Working in Juan’s show for close to fifteen years as a singer and
dancer, being married to him for five of those years as well as
managing the band for five years, was not only an exceptional
experience it was also a very difficult and enjoyable show to perform
live. The charts were very hard to play and the music physically
taxing, and Juan was a very demanding leader. For example, he demanded
everyone’s unwavering attention be on him at all times, for show
directions and in some part, his ego. The musicians could sit and read
their music but the girls had to memorize the music, catch all of his
not so subtle cues, sing in harmony, play hand percussion instruments,
clap our hands in rhythm, look beautiful with a constant smile and
dance, all at the same time. Plus, each girl did a solo in her
particular style. It was the most fascinating show.
The cost of tuxedos and gowns for the show was prohibitive, so it was necessary to find exceptional
musicians and talented singers who could not only play and/or sing the music,
but who could also fit into the extensive wardrobe. I remember in the early
part of 1974, the owner of La Margarita restaurants in Chicago,
asked us to bring a smaller show to town for a six-month
contract. Arriving early, we held auditions for local musicians. We
normally traveled with Juan, six musicians , four singers, a lightman
a roadman and on some occasions even wives and girlfriends.
But this time we didn’t have the budget. We
decided to use just five musicians; Juan plus four sidemen and two
singers, Sharon Michaels and myself. Normally we kept musicians and
singers under contract for at least two years at a time, requiring a
six-month notice to leave the show. It usually took that long to find suitable replacements. We had to send out audition
notices all over the country. One year Juan found a new drummer who was
vacationing on Bora Bora. We were able to find some
very good musicians in Chicago: Frank Kegl on drums, Don Perez on bass,
Jimmy “Chino” Lara on bongos and Scott Rammer on organ, who was later
replaced with Brian Feye. We did two shows every night and it was not
unusual for movie stars and other famous musicians to stop by to say
hello. One night on a break between shows, we were stopped by a
customer. He said, “you may not remember me but I’m a piano player and
my name is Peter Nero.” I was amazed at the humbleness of this
world-famed musician. Juan had performed a show with Peter at the
Hollywood Bowl in California some years earlier and although
Peter was the headliner he refused to close the show. He said there
was no way he could follow Juan. He was using a small cambo and Juan
was performing with a big dynamic band and the Randy Van Horn singers.
It was an amazing experience. That was when the Bowl still had a mote
in front of the stage. Juan had a very dry sense of humor and he loved
making the audience laugh, but one night in the middle of the show
Sharon and I busted out laughing and couldn’t stop. Juan wore exquisite
tuxedos and always used bow ties. In fact, his whole demeanor was
elegant and flamboyant. On this particular evening there was a moth
flying around his head while he was playing the piano and at one point
the moth decided to stop and rest right in the middle of Juan’s tie.
Of course, we couldn’t tell him why we were laughing until the end
of the show and it was one of the few times that he actually laughed at
himself. Our drummer, Frank Kegl, was very good, but his appearance was
rather odd. He wore his hair about a foot long, styled in this huge
pompadour that took hours to prepare, dry and spray and he had a
scraggly goatee that reached down to his collarbone. All of which, on
occasion, made him late for the gig. This would always upset Juan, so
he asked me to do something about it. I took Frank aside and asked him
if he would mind if I gave him a “new look.” I was totally surprised
when he agreed. So Sharon, Scott Rammer and I went to Frank’s apartment
one night to create the makeover. We all marched into the bathroom and
I put Frank’s head into the sink. I really tried to wash out all that
hairspray, but it was in like glue. I realized at that moment that the
only way I was going to solve the problem was to cut it out, which I
did. Off came the hair, down to about three inches all over and in one
felled swoop, off came the goatee, cut up to his chin. I later received
a phone call from Frank’s mother thanking me for cleaning up her son’s
image and both Frank and Juan were delighted with the new look. One
evening the owner of La Margarita approached Juan with the idea of
recording a show to be used as a promotional tool for the restaurant.
Juan agreed and in December of 1974 we made this recording. It was
purposely recorded live in the studio without
overdubs. The only thing that was added in later was the applause. Sharon
Michaels sang the solos on this recording. She did “Good Morning
Heartache” in one take and the engineer was so impressed with her voice
that on the last note, he lowered the lights in the studio. It gives me
goose bumps just thinking of it. It was one of the most astounding
experiences I've ever had. What a great feeling to relive this music
from an era long gone. May the music of Esquivel live on. Happy
listening!
-Yvonne DeBourbon-Rodriquez
1974-75