A Little Celestial Help?

The number 23 has followed singer-songwriter Jorge Moreno like a mystical star since the day he was born, April 23, 1975. And there it was again on the door of his Los Angeles hotel suite, Room 1723, like an omen on his arrival for this year’s Latin Grammy ceremony.

The seven also holds meaning for the creative Cuban American, who was competing for the prestigious best new artist award. Was the remaining number a sign he would win? Was he “The One”?

Whether by superstition or celestial intervention, Moreno really needed a victory.

His self-titled debut album received critical acclaim when it was released last November on Maverick Musica, the Latin music division of Madonna’s Maverick Records label. But his fledgling career soon faltered, struggling against radio resistance and a spotty tour schedule.

Billboard magazine had called the doe-eyed artist “daring” and his album “breathtaking.”

He also got an early push by an appearance on national TV during last fall’s prime-time 50th anniversary tribute to “I Love Lucy,” performing his supercharged rendition of “Babalu” with the children of Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball.

His career seemed destined to take off. But that show was practically the last time anybody heard of Jorge Moreno, even in his hometown of Miami, where his father was a veteran Latin record executive.

His artful album was like a movie released too soon to be remembered come Oscar time. He seemed overshadowed by fellow new-artist nominees with newer albums, such as Colombia’s Cabas, and those who had played recent concerts, such as Puerto Rico’s Circo.

Moreno flew into town feeling a little neglected. But then he paused at the door of his hotel room, contemplating the lucky number.

For a moment, the aspiring star thought of his great-grandmother, Maria Villar, an exile who had lost her husband and her only son in Cuba’s political violence under Fulgencio Batista’s regime.

Moreno, a child of divorce, was close to the woman who had been his nanny, taught him Spanish and stuck up for him, right or wrong.

Before her death in 1994--on May 23--Moreno asked for a sign that she would still be watching over him from beyond. Do something. Make the lights flicker, suggested the teenage troublemaker who had been expelled from a dozen schools--public, parochial and military.

For years, he noticed nothing. Moreno had grown out of his delinquent graffiti period and his scary Gothic stage.

He had started writing his own songs, an original and arresting blend of romantic ballads, traditional salsa and contemporary, British-influenced pop.

Eventually, he joined a select roster on Maverick Musica. By chance, his separate deal as a songwriter with EMI Publishing was signed the same day. It was May 23, 2001--exactly seven years after his great-grandmother’s death. It was the sign Moreno had been waiting for.

Then came the announcement at last month’s awards show: The man in Room 1723 was the Latin Grammys’ best new artist. Introduced briefly by fellow Miamian Gloria Estefan during the telecast, Moreno stood and waved. Privately, he had already thanked his great-grandmother.

“Maybe I do conjure up the numerology in my head,” says Moreno, 27, during an interview in the lobby of his hotel after his victory. “But the difference between coincidence and divine influence is what somebody feels.”

Being named best new artist has had very real rewards for the young man who not long ago was sending out his demo recordings in pizza boxes to get the attention of busy record executives.

Five days after the Latin Grammys, Moreno was being interviewed for the first time on Super Estrella, L.A.’s powerful contemporary Latin music radio station, which had ignored his album the whole year.

It was Monday, Sept. 23.

This week, the station programmed Moreno’s second single, “Mi Sufrimiento.” The song’s irreverent video, produced by the former film student, earlier debuted on MTV Espanol. Moreno also finally got a national tour, which kicks off next month in California. Then there are the corporate sponsorships--new opportunities to plug cars, soft drinks and beer.

“Suddenly, everybody decided they wanted to get to know him, and we started to get these tremendous offers,” says Maverick Musica President Bruno del Granado. “It’s like night and day. Up until the Latin Grammy nominations, it was us knocking on doors, and a lot of it was falling on deaf ears.”

Moreno blames it partly on “Babalu.” He thinks the TV performance backfired.

“A lot of people were confused with me,” he says. “As a first impression, it was kind of weird, like, ‘Who’s this guy dressed like Ricky Ricardo singing “Babalu”?’ It maybe didn’t seem as hip and cool to the young generation as I felt it.”

Moreno’s style is distinguished by his ability to seamlessly blend bicultural influences. His musical sensibilities draw on everything from the Beatles to Benny More, the revered Cuban vocalist of the ‘40s and ‘50s.

Moreno’s distorted, electronic rendition of More’s “Como Fue” is hidden on the album, starting after a long silence at a significant point on the final track: 7:23.

From the start, industry insiders warned that his music was too different to be played on radio. They suggested he try to be more pop.

“People were trying to pitch me as the next Enrique Iglesias or the next Ricky Martin,” he recalls. “I have nothing against those cats. They’re cool for what they do. But it’s not my style, it’s not my look, it’s not my anything.... And I didn’t want to be that. I wanted to be me. I wanted to be the first Jorge Moreno.”

Actually, he’s the second. His older brother is also named Jorge, after the great-uncle who was murdered in Cuba as a result of his anti-Batista activities. But since the younger boy, the youngest of four siblings, was born on the feast day of San Jorge (St. George), his great-grandmother pleaded with his father, Tony, to name him Jorge too.

The senior Moreno, who had witnessed his uncle’s killing as a child, now laughs about his “two Georges.” Luckily, the elder one always went by his middle name, Antonio. The younger Jorge also stood out as the most devilish one in the family and as the most sentimental, always remembering birthdays and taking flowers to his great-grandmother’s grave.

The Latin Grammy winner learned a lot about the business from his father, whose label, Musical Productions, had two Latin Grammy contenders in tropical music. But the young artist is still amazed by how people suddenly took an interest after his award.

“I’m not complaining,” says the singer, who has survived two serious car crashes in three years, “because I’m lucky just to be here.”