En Ritmo Practice Documentation
From virtual workshops…
While the roots of this work go back well before 2020, for the sake of clarity in this practice, process, and portfolio, let’s begin in January 2020—at the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Like many others, I believed things would improve much sooner than they did. Instead, I found myself observing bomba circles at protests, masked and distanced, and hosting En Ritmo workshops over Zoom.
I was striving for to create a sense of normalcy, a sense of community, and doing my best to share the rhythms of the Afro-Latin diaspora—even through the limitations of early virtual platforms.
Together but Apart
While in-person workshops were beginning to resume abroad, we were still advised to stay in place. From my cozy lofted studio in NYC, I led sessions for groups in Barcelona—connecting across distance and time zones through the screen.
During this period, I began to piece together the work I had been developing between 2017 and 2019. Even virtually, I could see bodies moving and collaborating, guided by rhythm and intention. It was a form of progress in a world that had lost its sense of normalcy.
Despite the uncertainty, I felt grounded in the belief that this practice had both purpose and place.
Field study in Puerto Rico commences
As COVID-19 case numbers finally began to decline, I connected with the Belelé Youth Bomba Dance Company in Loíza, Puerto Rico. With the support of the company and the Ricky Martin Foundation, I set out on my first field study in the archipelago.
This journey brought me back to my ancestral homeland—not just to return, but to listen, document, and share the story of our music, our rhythms, and our dance. I collected interviews, observations, video footage, photographs, and audio recordings—each one a thread in the larger tapestry of our cultural legacy, and each step bringing me closer to grasping the tangible essence of bomba.
Alongside observations, came conversations, ancestral passings from artists, elders and storytellers alike…
Those who live and create in Loíza, even if not direct practitioners of bomba, hold a sacred role in guarding our cultural emblems, our legacies. Samuel Lind was no different. His studio, a coven for our lineage, held collections of his work and the stories that came with them… each piece breathing, echoing—filling the space and stretching on without end.
Capturing bodies during En Ritmo workshop at the University of Plymouth in June 2023.
Alongside further workshops in Choma, Zambia; at the University of Plymouth in the United Kingdom; and in person in San Diego and New York City, what began as a practice uncertain if it would ever move beyond the screen was becoming an interlocker—flowing through diverse spaces, communities, and generations. It traveled through rhythm, collectivity, resilience, and hope.
Bomba serves a purpose in protest because it is protest.
It embodies resistance, channels collective energy, reclaims cultural space, and connects the past with the present through rhythm, movement, and voice.
Upon returning from Puerto Rico, I conducted several more interviews with Merian Soto and Milteri Tucker Concepción, supported by Pepatian South Bronx. These conversations deepened my understanding and helped expand the narrative I was weaving around bomba—its roots, its resilience, and its evolving presence in communities both on the island and in the diaspora.
I later returned back to San Juan and Loiza, Puerto Rico to continue observations in other various spaces including the barrio known as La Perla in San Juan Puerto Rico. A location known for exclusivity and a weariness to outsiders, I was welcomed with open arms, invited to sit, observe, sing and partake.
En Ritmo grew from the seed once planted as a choreographic workshop into a living framework where decoloniality meant far more than academic theory—it became action. Not the entire answer, but a vital, moving piece of the puzzle. Like the tambor (drum), crafted from materials unavailable in Africa, shaped by those who came before us making do with the resources of their new world—anything to keep their cultures and languages alive.