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Martina Camargo (San Martín de Loba, Bolívar, 63 years old) is crossed by the Magdalena River. On the banks of this imposing flow she heard hundreds of frogs and birds chirping as a child, saw many—too many—bodies rolling during the Colombian armed conflict and understood the richness of her territory, millionaire in resources but mistreated by the war and ignored by the State. His music is coastal. And his songs, he says, speak in his name. “Without the river, the drum would not exist,” he tells América Futura in a video call, before singing some verses in his honor: I want to tell you my sorrows / because you are very discreet / in your very deep waters so many secrets are kept.
The Colombian teacher is part of a long dynasty dedicated to this rhythm to which she has dedicated four decades of her life. His father was a singer-songwriter and composer, his maternal uncle played the instrument and his grandmother’s and great-grandmother’s sisters danced this dance that was born to be sung. The drum is played and sung. “It is a mix between the Spanish, the indigenous and the black, it is triethnic. Like us, we are also that mix,” he explains. With his fifth album, Song and riverCamargo managed to bring the drum and, with it, the folklore of the black people of the Colombian Caribbean, to the Latin Grammys for the first time, for which she has just been nominated. “We are one step away from reaching the top,” he says a month before meeting the winners. “I will be in the fight until I go to the other plane. But there is a lot of music left and a lot to build.”
Ask. Congratulations on the Latin Grammy nomination. How did you find out the news?
Answer. In the early morning one of the producers wrote to me to tell me that in the morning we would know the verdict. And I slept and got up like another day, that day I didn’t go to the gym, I did things around the house and when I started to split my papaya, I found out. (Laughs). I looked at the sky and, since I am a believer in God, I thanked him. Then I called everyone. We were all jumping on one leg. It’s like a dream because getting to the point has not been easy. We still have to go, we are one step away from reaching the top. And having achieved that is great, because the drum was barely known.
Q. What is the first memory you have of this rhythm?
R. My dad comes to mind. I would like him to be alive because he always said very accurate, almost prophetic words. He told me: ‘You’re going to be great, but I’m not going to see it.’ And here are his words.
Q. His father’s influence is also on his album, specifically in one of the songs…
R. Yes, I have nine compositions and The Crutch It’s his. I learned a lot from my dad. He was a very wise man, a peasant. He was a common peasant but with an enormous depth of thought: he was a futurist. And he pigeonholed himself into giving us education. I knew that this was going to give us a better future. We grew up with him under many values.
Q. Did you do it through your music?
R. Clear. He asked us to be honest and respectful with music and our tradition. And that’s what I’ve done. Above all, he told us a lot about the impact on the environment. He is one of the first in the region to sing to nature. In the 80s he was concerned about what was being done in the region with mining exploitation. He left me that legacy as a responsibility that falls on me as a singer. I don’t sing simply to sing. But I have a job and a responsibility which is to bring messages to the world. Above all, to preserve our tradition.
Q. The ingredients are few: a currulao drum, a tambora and voice. Is less more?
R. Yes. And a choir that is mixed. But I, particularly, wanted to make a women’s choir. I have to highlight the women. And it also sounds more beautiful. It is very political to do so. Although I am not involved in the offices, I do politics with the drum. Because I am carrying a message of nonconformity through my songs. It is a voice that tells you: ‘please wake up, Colombia.’
Q. What does the country have to wake up from?
R. Of the blindness we have. Of all the violence in this country. There are people who continue to deny paramilitarism and guerrillas. And my people suffered all the consequences of the violence. That’s why I scream about nonconformity through my songs. That is politics.
Q. You suffered paramilitarism firsthand. His brother was displaced because of it. How do you put words and music to something like that?
R. They are ways of telling what is happening. Singing to that is quite strong. Knowing that they want to kill one of your brothers, being innocent… It’s strong. He left the farm to suffer the people, because we come from a peasant heritage, from the countryside. They taught us to live off of it and they got it out of there. I had to sing to that.
Q. Colombia is the country of music. However, not all rhythms are equally popular. Why hasn’t the drum caught on like salsa or reggaeton?
R. Because traditional music has been undervalued. It is not usually attractive because it is not commercial. To market it, it would be necessary to change too much. And this music is not fashionable, it is eternal. We singers are eternal. They will continue to sound forever and ever.
Q. Are gender roles changing on the beat?
R. There are male and female singers. On the drum in ancient times it was always the men who played it. It is a sexist position even if we don’t want to see it. They thought we didn’t have the ability to play a drum. But with the passing of time, it has changed. Now the women play. The world has already taken a big turn and it is women who are in charge. (Laughs).
Q. We still have a little bit left…
R. Yes, yes. But we are going through that transition…
Q. Several of his most popular songs such as Guataqui They have been mixed by DJs. Can Colombian folklore dialogue with other genres without losing its essence?
R. Yes, they can. I have never been closed to these new proposals, if they are done with respect. This made my music reach another audience. Although there are other very purist musicians who don’t look at it that way, I believe that nothing is pure. Nothing is pure. Because each executor leaves his mark.
Q. Do you like to hear yourself in that record?
R. Well, it always changes a lot, but I like it.
Q. Is there a generational change for the drum?
R. Yes, there is. Because in San Martín de Loba there are seedbeds and schools. And now, with this nomination, many little ones They don’t know me, they want to know me. Right now I am like a mirror for them.
Q. The drum sings about life, everyday life and pain. Is there anything that is not made to sing to you in this rhythm?
R. To violence. We have to build a country and sow love. We are in the task of non-violence between ourselves and nature. This music was not born to sing about violence, but to build a country.
Q. In Divine Landscape he sings to the Magdalena River, his fifth album is called Song and riverand he always says that the drum is from the coast. How does the river shape your music?
R. I believe that the river is a source of inspiration, because it is life. Without the river, the drum would not exist. Even though the river has suffered violence, because that body of water full of magic has also been violated. That’s why the song says (Sings): I want to tell you my sorrows / because you are very discreet / in your very deep waters so many secrets are kept. The river also cries because one has seen many dead people pass through those rivers.
Q. What link does the drum have with the care of the earth?
R. The drum comes from the earth, that’s why I sing to it. The farmers, the fishermen sing it… it comes from there. When I pass by the Magdalena River, I feel that it claims me: what are they doing for me? Why do they throw dirt at me? That is why in my compositions I say that I feel very sorry for the river, because I feel that it reproaches me. We have water and it is paradoxical that we suffer for not having drinking water in my region. My songs speak in the name of the river.
