El Profe

Yesterday I learned of the passing of my good friend, teacher and collaborator, Roberto Fuentes. I first met Roberto when I was helping some friends make a short film in Germantown, NY in 2004. The production was in a massive converted farmhouse by the train tracks next to the Hudson River, home of the Station House Studio where I had recently recorded Palestine Hotel and an early version of Bay to Maples. It was a silent film, Roberto played an old carney in a top hat and cane.

A couple years later when I was living in Brooklyn Roberto took me on as a pupil, helping me learn to breathe, sing, write and perform. We used to meet up after hours at the music school in Tribeca where I used to work, or at my apartment in Greenpoint, sometimes for three or four hours at a time. He would get carried away telling stories of his years touring Venezuela with his troupe and the success they had before he moved to New York. He was as humble and extravagant a man as I've known, and more talented than anyone I've had the pleasure to meet.

At the time he said he no longer performed with his students, but there was one song of mine he said he wanted to play live with me. The gig was at 11pm on a Monday at Rockwood Music Hall, as safe a time as any to try out a new arrangement. We had Yair Evnine on cello and Elijah Tucker on drums. Roberto fingerpicks his quatro (it's like a ukulele) in the beginning then blasts into a rapid fire strum in the second part of the song.

LISTEN TO THE RECORDING HERE

I think of Roberto and the things he taught me every time I get myself ready to sing.