About this Piece

In Mexico and much of the southwestern United States, “¡aguas!” is a slang term for “watch out!” or “be careful!” My piece, ¡AGUAS!, is a sometimes beautiful, sometimes dissonant, fast-paced, mambo-inspired work that implores us to keep our wits about us as we navigate a world full of hazards, both big and small.

“¡Aguas!” is thought to have originated with city dwellers warning passersby that they were about to dump chamber pots out their windows. While that is thankfully no longer a hazard, the urgency of the word has remained. Shouting “¡AGUAS!” loudly or in rapid succession (“¡aguas-aguas-aguas!”) can alert someone about to slip in a puddle, get struck by a ball, or burn themselves on a hot stove. When spoken softly (“...aguas...”) it can warn someone to tread carefully when sharing chisme [gossip] or speaking out of turn. It is also commonly used to warn crowds of impending trouble, such as when la migra [immigration] is nearby.

While visiting and studying Judy Baca’s iconic mural The Great Wall of Los Angeles, I was struck by the imposing image of a police officer in 1943 standing over the kneeling, nearly naked body of a Mexican American man, his zoot suit torn from his body and held above him. During the Zoot Suit Riots, US servicemen attacked young Latinos in a major American city with the approval of the press, the police, and the government. Latinos, and especially Mexican Americans, were vilified as gangsters deserving of their subjugation, and their clothing was cited as evidence of what the City Council called a “Mexican American crime wave.” The Los Angeles Times even proudly declared that the “Zoot Suiters Learn Lesson in Fights with Servicemen.” Eighty years after the Zoot Suit riots, the city of Los Angeles formally condemned the violence and apologized for its role in persecuting its own residents

¡AGUAS! features dance rhythms inspired by mambo—a music favored by zoot suit-wearing pachucos in the 1940s through the ’60s—interrupted by sudden and explosive bursts of sound and lopsided phrases that turn on a dime. Nothing is allowed to settle into equilibrium for long. Yet there is profound joy in the expressive nature of dance music and the way it demands our attention, lifting us to our feet and inviting us to move together with shared purpose.

I am incredibly grateful to Judy Baca and the staff at SPARC, who generously allowed me to visit the mural and spend time in their studio learning about the mural-making process. Thank you to my fellow composers Nina Shekhar, Juhi Bansal, Estevan Olmos, Viet Cuong, and Xavier Muzik, who have inspired me deeply with their own work. Thank you to creative producer Mark McNeill and composer Gabriela Ortiz for curating this performance and inviting me to join this ambitious project. Thank you to writer Josh Kun for helping to document the process, and my warmest thanks to Alejandro G. Iñárritu, maker of so many of my favorite films, for lending us your talents and creative vision. My deepest gratitude goes to the musicians of the Los Angeles Philharmonic and to the visionary Music & Artistic Director Gustavo Dudamel for premiering this work and being such an integral part of the artistic community in Los Angeles. It is an honor to join you this season with the LA Phil and be part of this story.

—Nicolás Lell Benavides