Frankly, it's difficult not to lay some of the blame for the present global domination by Latin-American culture on Carmen Miranda and Desi Arnez. Miranda's dancing style was reminiscent of a flock of seagulls at feeding time (always in a hurry) and was complemented by what looked suspiciously like a bowl of fruit on her head. She was one of the first flowerings of crossover success for Latin Americans. Biographical location didn't seem to matter - as Miranda was born near Lisbon, Portugal - once you had the rhythm in your system, you were one of the chosen people. Another of the chosen ones, Desi Arnez, was born in Santiago, Cuba, and arrived in the US at 16, a refugee of the Batista revolution. In 1986, he died a very rich man, leaving behind him a comic legacy of I Love Lucy TV shows and the knowledge that he was one of the most successful of Latino immigrants.
It didn't end there, of course. In each decade since the 1950s Latino-tinged pop stars came, saw, tickled our consciousness for a little while and then promptly lost their flavour of the month status. The likes of Ritchie Valens (the first major Hispanic-American rock star), Santana, Flaco Jimenez, Ruben Blades, Los Lobos and Gloria Estefan laid down the Latino/Tex-Mex blueprint that was further enhanced by Ry Cooder and - bringing it reasonably up-to-date, albeit with a country music twist - The Mavericks. Even Madonna entered the fray in 1987 with La Isla Bonita. Now, however, the emergence of Latino pop and movie superstars has ensured that not only is Latino culture not going to go away - it's crossing into the mainstream.
In the US, they're calling it a Latino invasion. A patronising description for some, Latino is the aggregated term given to the multifarious cultural mix of Native American, Spanish and African. Film, television and pop music moguls are finally cottoning on to the charms of sultry looks, tanned skin and salsa (as well as musical styles such as merengue and tejeno). This is surely a case of better late than never. With a quarter of its population of Latino origin, New York City held the National Puerto Rican Day Parade, with veteran bandleader Tito Puente as one of its Grand Marshals. New York is not alone in hosting these parades. Similar events take place annually in South Florida, Chicago, California and Pennsylvania. They are increasing in size and social importance as each year goes by. In addition, the parades are starting to receive the respect they deserve from elected officials and representatives, who, say Hispanic commentators, have at last realised that the Latino population votes.
At the helm of the present Latino revolution are Jennifer Lopez and Ricky Martin. Actress, singer and winner of the Best Actress Award at the American Latino Media Arts ceremony in 1998, Lopez is currently the highest paid Latino film star, with an asking fee of $1 million per film. Although born in New York's Bronx (on July 24th 1970 - happy birthday, Jennifer), she has rarely veered too far from her family roots. Following a brief career in musicals and television, Lopez was introduced to Hollywood in 1995 through a starring role in Gregory Nava's Mi Familla, a worthy movie focusing on the lives of Mexican immigrants in Los Angeles from the 1930s to the present day.
Another Lopez movie with a distinct Latino slant, Selena (she played the part of murdered tejeno singer, Selena Quintanilla Perez) raised her Hollywood stock considerably, despite some negative comments from the Mexican-American community that Lopez was of Puerto Rican descent. Nevertheless, the similarities between Lopez and the Mexican singer, who was poised for mainstream stardom at the time of her death, were striking. Although she didn't sing in that movie, Lopez (who has subsequently appeared in films with Jack Nicholson, Sean Penn, and most recently George Clooney) knew she wanted similar success in the music business as well.
"I started my career as a dancer and singer," Lopez told Latina magazine in March of this year, as her debut album On The 6 was about to be released. "Music has always been a big part of my family and my life. Music is who I am and recording this album really represents a dream fulfilled."
Which is all very nice and cliched, but not half as interesting as the music strategy employed by both Lopez and Sony. Lopez was played a wide range of different styles and material, from Babyface to Diane Warren. After due consideration, she ultimately felt it important that her record be less pop-oriented and have more of an urban Latin appeal. Be that as it may, Lopez has angered commentators by what they see as a calculating dilution of cultural strengths and merits. This, and the fact that only two tracks on her debut album are sung in Spanish (one of which is a duet with the New York-born Latin superstar Marc Anthony, tipped to be the next Latino crossover act) is enough to have the purists chomping at the bit.
Ricky Martin is a different matter altogether. A classic 15-year overnight sensation, San Juan-born Martin has been prowling around the fringes of mainstream success since 1984, when he joined the Latin boy group, Menudo. Five years later, at the peak of that group's success he opted out (or was politely dumped, depending on who you ask) and moved, initially to New York and then to Mexico. Now dividing his talents between singing and acting, in between releasing Spanish-language records, Martin has appeared in TV soaps (Mexico's Alcanzar una Estrella and America's General Hospital), and on Broadway (Les Miserables).
The release in May of his first English-language album, Ricky Martin, followed his 1999 Grammy victory when his previous record, Vuelve, was named Best Latin Pop Album. The Grammy telecast (wherein Martin incorporated a samba drum corps to his performance, receiving a standing ovation from seen-it-all US industry figures) is seen to have presaged the immense media interest in all things Latino.
The interesting aspect of Ricky Martin, however, is that he seems to be handling his new-found US success with no small degree of aplomb and a dignified sense of proportion. He turned down a suggested teaming with Jennifer Lopez in a remake of West Side Story on the grounds that such a project would help perpetuate Puerto Rican stereotypes.
"I don't want to be the hit of the summer," he told USA Today recently. Neither does the US music industry. But therein lies the rub. Can the public still taste the flavour of the summer months in chilly December and January?