Chavela Vargas was an iconoclast. Living and creating in constant irreverence and defiance of the prescribed heteronormative roles assigned to performance, dress, life, and love in her time and place, Vargas created ageless music of immense emotional depth and universality
Born and raised in Costa Rica, Chavela Vargas came to prominence after emigrating to Mexico and grinding it out in the Mexican bar circuit of the 1950s and 60s, eventually playing regular engagements in the tourist-heavy bars of Acapulco. She would come to share drinks (and beds) and rub shoulders with some of the great artists of the time, Frida Kahlo famously among them, and forge a close friendship (the legitimacy of which is now contested by some) with the all-time great ranchera singer/songwriter José Alfredo Jiménez, eventually gaining notoriety as one of the definitive interpreters of his gut-wrenching songs of love and loss. From a young age onward Vargas had never identified with socially determined “feminine” behaviors—wearing pants instead of skirts or dresses, forgoing makeup, drinking heavily, carrying a gun, having “open secret” relationships with women—and in her interpretations of the songs of Jiménez and others this rejection of gender roles pervaded to great artistic success. She would never alter the perspective of a song’s narrator, maintaining the gender role of the song’s male protagonist—often pining after a woman—and she would emote in a pained, gravelly growl that was more reminiscent of the vocal stylings of men in the genre than that of the women singers. Her voice unhampered by the restrictions of presenting as “female” was free to convey the emotional depths of these songs in a then unheard way, which still resonates to this day as instantly arresting and moving, and transcends any possible language barriers on the strength of pure emotion and vibe. Vargas’ voice was most often accompanied by only one or two acoustic guitars, creating a delicate and intimate sea for her cresting and crashing waves of story to ride atop. All of this is captured immaculately in the 1973 album Lamento Borincano, a reissue of her 1966 album, Esta Noche, in haunting, sparse, reverb-graced concision.
Vargas’ life was both charmed and difficult—playing her natural, so-called “male” role onstage to great success and galavanting recklessly from party to party, but leaving behind scorned lovers and empty bottles in her closeted, addiction-ruled life offstage. Her complex life and story is captured beautifully in the 2017 documentary, Chavela, by directors Catherine Gund and Daresha Kyi.
Lamento Borincano and other albums by Chavela Vargas are available on Freegal and hoopla.
The 2017 documentary, Chavela, is available on hoopla and Kanopy.
