The Journey of the Clave
**What follows is a great story! Now guys, you can save yourself a lot of heartache by coming to class and asking questions! Also, Tonia has informed me that The Clave Matrix has just been published. It’s chock full info and exercises for the more serious Latin dancer. -Eduardo
By Reed Colver
What follows is a particularly long account of my journey to find the elusive clave.
The short version is this: The world of Cuban dance and music is entirely foreign to me. I went for months thinking I understood ‘enough’ about the clave, when I didn’t get it at all. Then, I went for months being mortified I couldn’t hear the clave. I was far too embarrassed to ask. I should have. Without it, I was missing a critical framework for my dance.
So, if you have ever felt frustrated by clave, if you’ve ever felt you should know something and didn’t – but couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Or, if you didn’t know what to ask. Keep reading. Even if you don’t keep reading, at least remember: if you are lost, confused, and afraid to ask for fear of looking dumb/silly/etc. – ASK.
I promise you – you’re not the only one.
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Clave = Key.
Meanings: fundamental or essential;
a harpsichord;
musical clef – bass/treble;
password/access code/code;
solution – as in ‘the key to success’.
One of the many things new to me in the world/language/ideas of Cuban Salsa when I first started at Paso was The Clave.
I listened to the Cuban Salsa Fundamentals CD we all receive when we first start.
I heard a rhythm.
It seemed to make sense.
More or less.
I listened to discussions about dancing on The Clave in class.
I could hear the distinctive pattern played on the clave sticks in class.
I would help my lead find The Clave in the music.
I got The Clave.
More or less.
As time went on I dipped in and out of classes, eventually working my way up to ICD I, and occasionally crashing other classes. One night in CSF III – after an extended absence from the studio – I found myself in the middle of a new rhythm exercise. Not my strong point, but I at least had The Clave sorted.
Or not.
It dawned on me slowly, but with a distinct sense of dread, that perhaps it hadn’t been The Clave that I had been so carefully pointing out to my leads. Maybe I had glossed over – just a bit – comments about The Clave changing during a song, and other such details that didn’t quite make sense to me at the time. The dread turned into a distinct clarity of thought.
I had no idea where The Clave was.
In fact, I didn’t even know *what* The Clave was.
I clapped my way through my solo moment in the small circle of students and went home confused.
One week later. Same class, same exercises, and a desperate attempt to mimic the others as best I could while hoping I wouldn’t be called on first. I nodded at all the right moments when asked if we understood, and I hoped no one noticed my feet and hands were completely out of sync.
I did not dare admit that I had been faking it up to now. At this point the question ‘What is The Clave?’ felt completely un-askable. But, I was so lost I didn’t know what else to ask.
So began my Journey of The Clave.
I went home and Googled ‘Clave.’
I looked up the translation/definition of the word ‘Clave.’
I read about The Clave pattern.
I listened to examples of The Clave rhythm.
The next week I rocked up to CSF III feeling pretty good about The Clave. The count begins. Bam. Clueless, again. I couldn’t even articulate what wasn’t connecting. It just wasn’t connecting.
Back to Google.
I spent evening after evening searching for The Clave.
I downloaded and listened to Timba and Salsa music.
I listened again and again to recordings of clave rhythms.
I listened while looking at visual representations of The Clave.
I watched YouTube videos.
I read articles on rhythm/Cuban music/salsa/clave.
I used my kitchen table as a drum, pounding out rhythms.
I found some useful information.
I found some less than useful information.
I found explanations that were so overly simplified they were next to useless.
I found explanations that assumed a certain level of knowledge about music and rhythm that I just didn’t have.
I gathered each piece that made sense. I felt bit by bit as if I was getting closer, but some …key…piece of it was still missing.
It turns out there were two pieces that were missing. The first piece I stumbled on was this:
1. The Clave is a rhythmic pattern that creates the musical framework for the piece of music. It tells the musicians how and when to play. Much like the drummer before a concert counts out ‘1, 2, 1-2-3-4′ at the beginning of a song. It’s the framework the music is built upon.
Click.
This was shortly followed by a second critical piece of information:
2. The Clave is not always explicitly played in every piece of music. That lovely sound of the wooden sticks pounding out the rhythm of the clave is not always present. The clave is *implied* in many songs – especially Timba – and played by other instruments. Don’t try to listen for The Clave explicitly. Listen for the implied clave in the rhythms of the other instruments, the music – feel it.
Click.
That’s when I stopped trying to find The Clave, and I started listening for clave.
And I could begin to hear it. Bit by bit. In the brass, the strings, the piano. It moved. It was elusive. But it was there.
I practiced and listened and practiced and listened. Everywhere. I tapped the pulse with my foot and the clave with my fingers. I laughed – often – at my complete failure and tried it again. And again. And again.
Suddenly, even if I couldn’t always get it right in class, I understood what was wrong. I could ask questions. Clave suddenly made sense. It was an idea that I could grasp, and in grasping it, I could further understand its place in my dance, in the music, and in my steps.
I am still working on clave. I am still wrapping my head around ‘dancing on the clave’ and hearing the instrumentation differently. The more I learn, the more I realize the depth of the seemingly simple concept ‘clave’ and its existence in the world.
I am thrilled when I can hear clave – especially in unexpected places or familiar songs. I told a friend I was going to start texting him ‘I hear the clave!” Just so I would have someone to share those moments with.
It’s been a struggle. It continues to be an adventure in learning and understanding a concept that is decidedly new for me.
But now, at least, I know what questions to ask. I just should have started asking them earlier.
Related posts:
- should instructors teach steps before clave and music?
- one step forward
- salsa blogger’s guaguanco journey begins
- throwing the brick at dance
