Veranazo Fest Debut a Hit at Dodger Stadium

The goal of the inaugural Veranazo 2002 festival Saturday at Dodger Stadium was to deliver an over-the-top, multiple-course musical feast that would outdo all other Latin-music events. And indeed, its Pantagruelian excesses resulted in the kind of sonic satiation that Latin music fans tend to savor.

The six-hour show, organized by the radio station conglomerate Hispanic Broadcasting Corp., focused mostly on live music, keeping lip-synced performances to a minimum and allowing chart-toppers Juan Gabriel, Los Temerarios, Joan Sebastian and Banda El Recodo at least 45 minutes each to work their magic on the crowd.

There were two lessons to be learned from the event, both of which apply to Latin music at large: Less is always more, and sticking to your cultural roots is likely to result in a tastier musical experience.

The former was best exemplified by Enrique Iglesias, who appeared on stage accompanied only by two guitarists, confessing to the audience that he had arrived at the stadium completely unprepared.

Whether this was true or just a ploy to create the illusion of spontaneity is irrelevant. Demonstrating again that he’s the most genuine presence in Latin pop, Iglesias charmed his way through lilting but rough acoustic versions of a few of his hits. The unadorned arrangements left plenty of space for the expressiveness of his voice and his connection with the fans.

The importance of remaining true to your roots became apparent in the contrasting styles of flashy, lip-synced segments by Mexico’s rebellious roquera Alejandra Guzman and pop star Thalia, and that of stunning banda sinaloense acts Jose Manuel Figueroa and Banda El Recodo.

Guzman’s trite brand of arena hard rock was unintentionally funny at times, as when she sang with utter conviction her hit, “Hacer El Amor Con Otro,” some of whose lyrics translate as “Making love with another man/Is not the same thing/You don’t get to see pink-colored stars.”

Thalia’s bubbly routine was infectious, with a quartet of dancers sensuously prancing around the stage, and her own share of experimentation fusing banda with digital-friendly pop.

But the divas’ efforts paled in comparison to the sheer drive of Figueroa and Recodo. The latter provided the festival’s most exuberant moments. This is seriously funky music, marked by an astonishing combination of brass instruments that includes sweeping saxophone and clarinet, virtuoso syncopation on the snare drum and elephantine bursts of tuba adding an otherworldly tone--both humorous and melancholy--to the music.

The intensity of Recodo’s performance was sustained in the evening’s efforts, including the big-band sound of Sebastian (who was joined by 31 singers and musicians), the ultra-romantic barrio-pop of Los Temerarios, and the glowing melodies of Gabriel, Mexico’s most transcendent living pop composer.

The show’s only serious faux pas was the condescending treatment of the predominantly working-class crowd, browbeaten by some of the radio personalities and performers into expressing enthusiasm for Veranazo, and bombarded with slogans such as “We’re all passionate Latinos.”

At times, you wished someone from the audience would climb onstage, grab the mike and tell the organizers: “We might be Latinos, but we’re not stupid.”