“I spent the last four years of my father’s life playing with him at his house for pure fun.”

That day, he became the first Cuban to attend a music festival abroad since Fidel Castro came to power in 1959. Looking back, it’s not hard to conclude that this was destined for him. Because when he was only three years old, he was already sitting on the lap of his father, the great Bebo Valdes, playing the lowest notes on the piano with his left hand and the tumbao with his right. After a while, they swapped positions and continued practicing together. After a few hours, he would always challenge me, “Come on, I’m on my own!”

It was like a game. One day…and another day…and again. He says that before he was five years old, he could already interpret melodies he heard on the radio by ear, in any key, using both hands. Bebo then taught him Cuban and Afro-Cuban rhythms, and when he turned 14, gave him the most valuable advice of his life: “Come on, look for chucho, look for chucho…don’t imitate!” And he continues to burn it to this day, as he continues to write and record non-stop, at age 84, and seeks to explore paths never taken before. I also travel all over the world. On Saturday and Sunday, he performs at Teatro Pavon in Madrid as part of the Villanos del Jazz Cycle, part of the program of the JazzMadrid Festival.

-Seven years ago, he told me that one day in 1960, his father was going on a trip to Mexico and he told him to take care of the family until he returned, but he never returned. She fled to Sweden, remarried and had children. Did that make you even sadder or more angry?

――More than anything, I was saddened by the fact that I was 19 years old and all alone. My father needed to leave the house, so I supported him. Because my father explained to me why. Also, it was kind of an honor for me to ask him to take care of my family while he was away, since I was still a minor. At that time, the majority of people in Cuba were over the age of 21, and I was left with my entire family, so I had to fight quite a bit. It was a difficult and painful mission, but at the same time I felt proud that he had so much faith in me.

–What was the reason?

– Problems with the new government of Fidel Castro, which came to power one year ago. I couldn’t stay in Cuba…

—How did his departure affect your growth as a pianist?

— Already loved music from an early age, but because of this I had to accelerate my learning to take care of my family. It was what I always wanted to be. I had to learn faster and fight harder to make myself known. And despite considerable obstacles, I achieved it. Because I was the son of someone who left Cuba and wasn’t really appreciated. I had to push myself 1,000x and started getting good jobs.

—Just 10 years later, he was named one of the world’s five best jazz pianists at the Jamboree Festival…

-When I heard the news, I couldn’t believe it, but I have to thank one of my mentors, Dave Brubeck, who I will never forget. He was the one who dedicated himself to talking about me and playing my music to legends who didn’t know me. After hearing me perform in Poland in 1970, he got hold of one of the demos I had recorded to promote myself.

—Did you get to know Bill Evans or any of his most creative moments?

—I was lucky enough to not only meet them, but also play with them. For example, I performed several duet concerts with Herbie. You can still watch the performance Chick Corea and I did at Lincoln Center in New York on YouTube. beautiful! He stood up to improvise without ever rehearsing. It worked so well that it seemed as if all the music had been written in advance. Yes, I also met Bill Evans. What can I tell you about Bill? He was a great idol for all of us young people who dreamed of becoming jazz pianists. Imagine what it meant to me that they accepted me as one of their own and invited me to play with them. That was the real prize.

–What did they say about your music at that time?

-When Bruce saw me live for the first time, he said, “What you’re doing is amazing, it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before.” And before saying goodbye, he insisted, “Chucho, never stop making this music!” (He says it in English). Bill came to congratulate me after the first concert I performed at Carnegie Hall with Irakere. This concert was the first by a Cuban jazz group still living in Cuba. Similar anecdotes happened with other greats like McCoy Tyner.

—He reunited with his father in 1978 at Carnegie Hall after one of his concerts with his band, which he then called “Irakere.” How do you remember?

-I knew he was in the audience because his sister, Melina, who lives in New York, told me about it. I was very nervous because all the American pianists I respected were there, and most importantly, my father was there. It was just McCoy Tyner and Bill Evans that day, with guitarists Larry Coryell and Phil Catelin playing for us. When the performance ended, my hands were shaking and I kept repeating to myself, “Bebo is here, Bebo is here.” I couldn’t contain my feelings and jumped out to hug him. I can’t tell you how much that hug hurt.

–Did it seem like he had changed a lot?

–Almost 20 years have passed, but of course I wasn’t the same. The last time we met was when I was 19 and I was 37 at the time. My father was 59 years old. Just imagine. You could see the passage of time on his face, but there was so much emotion in that reunion that it went unnoticed. As soon as he saw me, the first thing he said was that Irakere was the best band on the planet and the musicians I brought in were amazing. From there we went to my Aunt Melina’s house and from midnight until eight in the morning we talked about all the years we hadn’t seen each other. It is one of the most beautiful memories of my life.

—I remember your father’s concert at the 2004 Garapa Jazz Festival (Galapagal, Madrid). He was the same age as you are now. Walking very slowly, they had to help him get to the piano, but when he sat down, it transformed. He played very fast. I saw you with the same energy at your last performance in Madrid.

—I think we both inherited the energy from music and the desire to perform. I know there comes a time when I don’t have the same strength and stamina as when I was younger, but when my father sat at the piano, it was like being reborn. I feel like something similar is happening to me. Looking at the piano and then looking at the audience changed me. Dave[Brubeck]said something similar at a concert on the day he turned 80. I remember it perfectly. He came in very slowly and looked like he was 20 years old when he started playing the piano. That’s the magic of music, even for older people.

—Dave Holland once told me that even at age 70, he still rehearses six or seven hours a day. Do you need that discipline too?

–Of course, playing the piano every day is sacred to me. I rehearse every day, and the days I don’t rehearse I feel like I’m missing something very important. I usually practice and compose for 6-8 hours a day. Actually, I’ve already played for 2 hours today (12pm in Miami). It will take a few more hours after lunch and another 2-3 hours in the evening (excluding time during the tour).

— His father passed away in 2013 at the age of 94. For the last four years he retired to Benalmádena (Málaga). And you decided to buy a small house next to him to be closer and take care of him. How was the last stage?

-We spent the last four years of his life together at his home. I still have that house and Lorena (his wife, who can be heard in the background of the video call correcting some of the pianist’s information), and we now live between Miami and Benalmádena. My father and I spent the whole day playing and eating lentils, rice, beans, and everything he loved: fried plantains, picadillo… It was as if we were both reincarnated.

–Were you just playing for fun, with no commercial intentions?

–Yes, just like we always did in Cuba before he left. We sat down every afternoon and released all our energy into the piano and made new music together (they didn’t record). I already published “Together Forever” (Sony) in 2008, which won two Grammy Awards, but at that time I only published it to remember the old things he taught me when I was a child. We spent hours each day not noticing the passage of time. Thus the last four years of his life.

–Do you plan to continue playing like your father?

–If God allows it.