Drawn onto the dance floor

A mild-mannered Peruvian blessed with the gritty voice of an authentic salsero, Luis Barbaran came to Los Angeles looking for well-paying gigs -- the kind of nightclub bookings that could earn him a living while jump-starting his career in tropical music.

Once a week, however, Barbaran is happy to push his financial aspirations aside to be part of the most enticing ritual of Afro-Caribbean fever to be found in this town. Every Wednesday night, he drives to Mama Juana’s Latin Lounge in Studio City and sings with Henry Mora’s 23-piece salsa orchestra.

“Here I make only $40 a night,” says Barbaran, standing outside the nightclub during a break from singing. “But I can’t tell you how happy I am to be part of this.”

He’s not the only one. Because it harks back to the golden era of Latin music in the ‘50s, when opulent big bands created some truly funkalicious dance music, Mora’s orchestra routinely attracts some of L.A.’s most renowned Latin session players.

On a given night, you may find virtuosos such as Cuban conga player Michito Sanchez or pianist Joe Rotondi alternating with lesser-known musicians.

The result is bewitching. Even if you’re not familiar with classic salsa, the scope of Mora’s band is something to behold. A slightly cavernous space that would be definitely improved with a friendlier ambience, Mama Juana’s is literally taken over by the band. The 18 instrumentalists are crammed on the narrow stage, forcing Mora and his four vocalists to perform on the dance floor.

The evening’s set list is geared to salsa aficionados. Mora’s charges provide densely textured versions of Celia Cruz gems such as “Quimbara” and Tito Puente hits such as “Dejame Sonar.”

The music is a tad too loud for such a tiny place, but the raucous wall of sound created by the brass and percussion delivers an overwhelming experience. Other local salsa bands sound wimpy by comparison.

The Wednesday nights are also a bargain. For $10 you get admission to the show and a free dance lesson with Ken Baldwin. Baldwin is an anomaly in the salsa world: He enjoys teaching the basics, and he makes sure that even the most, uh, challenged participants leave his lessons with a working knowledge of that tricky, syncopated step.

THE dance floor is filled with couples after the band launches into the first set. Those familiar with the salsa mystique know that dancing a song is all about connecting. On a recent night, a middle-aged Latino couple glided next to each other with effortless coordination. Their movements were restrained, filled with emotion. They clearly enjoyed each other’s company.

Then there are the clowns. Some salseros have learned the ropes and are eager to impress everyone around them with their acrobatics -- a tendency that Baldwin frowns upon.

“The funny thing is that you look at their feet and they’re not even dancing to the beat,” Baldwin says, watching a grinning youngster spinning his partner in a scene that suggests an old Loony Tunes cartoon.

Mora carries on, regardless of the dancers’ intentions. He never fails to perform “El Cantante,” an epic salsa workout written by Ruben Blades and made famous by Hector Lavoe, a legendary Puerto Rican singer who died of AIDS at age 46.

“El Cantante” talks about the joys and tribulations of a barrio salsa singer. It also includes some truly heart-wrenching instrumental passages that distill the raw beauty of Afro-Caribbean music. The sheer pathos of its climax can bring tears to the eyes. And as the tune ends, there is Barbaran, who was singing it, bowing to the crowd’s enthusiastic applause.

He looks ecstatic, lost in the reverie of the salsa beat.

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Ernesto Lechner can be reached at weekend@latimes.com.

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Mama Juana’s Latin Lounge

Where: 3707 Cahuenga Blvd., Studio City

When: Wednesday nights; dance class starts at 7:30 p.m., first of the band’s two sets at 9:30 p.m.

Price: $10 includes admission and dance class.

Info: (818) 505-8636 or www.mamajuanas.com