Profiles: Juan Luis Guerra
In 1992, Juan Luis Guerra released his sixth album, Areíto. In one song, “El costo de la vida” (The cost of life), he says this to his fellow Dominicans who were struggling with a prolonged economic recession: “A nadie le importa qué piensa usted; ¿será porque aquí no hablamos inglés?”. (Nobody cares what you think—could it be because we don’t speak English here?).
And then something interesting happened. People all around the world heard what Juan Luis Guerra was thinking and saying as the album became an international bestseller. Why? Because the music behind his social and political commentary gave his hard words the perfect vehicle to reach the people.
“He’s an activist. He’s very socially conscious in a very good and tasteful manner,” says Rudy Mangual, editor of Latin Beat Magazine, a publication that covers Latin American music and musicians.
Areíto wasn’t Guerra’s first attempt to combine compelling music with a particular worldview. That came in 1989 with the release of Ojalá que llueva café (I wish that it would rain coffee). That album went largely unnoticed by the rest of the world, however. It wasn’t until 1990’s Bachata rosa that Guerra’s music topped the charts in dozens of countries and made him an international star. By the time Areíto came out two years later, people everywhere were listening to what Guerra had to say. Like famed salsa singer/composer Rubén Blades, Guerra took traditional dance music genres and remade them with a lyrical edge, taking them into territories never before explored. Just listen to “Visa para un sueño”, which is a merengue with more than one meaning.
“Many people think merengue is simplistic in nature,” says Mangual. “But a lot of it has a double meaning. Guerra opened the eyes of many to the other side of merengue.”
And this other side wasn’t limited to just lyrics. In addition to tackling politics and social concerns, Guerra also offered fresh ideas for traditional Dominican genres. In fact, he nearly single-handedly made the bachata (a typical rural dance rhythm) into a slow dance favorite from New York to Paris.
And when it comes to expressing his way of seeing the world, Guerra’s not done yet. His newest album, due out this month and entitled Para ti, delves into his Christian beliefs, rediscovered after fame, fortune and international success left him empty and dissatisfied.
And will people listen once again? Mangual believes so. “I’ve known other musicians whose music suffered once they started singing about God,” he says. “But I don’t think that will happen with Juan Luis Guerra.”
Regardless of the success of his forthcoming album, Guerra, unlike many other singers, clearly revels in challenging not only himself, but his audience as well, a clear departure from those who follow the safe, non-controversial path. And this, even more than his various messages, is what truly makes him not just another singer or composer, but an artist.


