History of Latin dance evenings during the summer in New York 2024

Ask anyone in New York, and they’ll tell you that city summers are special. They are so special that they have been immortalized in great works of literature, cinema and songs for decades now. Perhaps the most famous on the Latin side of things, “a nueva york verano” by El Gran Combo is an ode in the summer of New York and everything he brings with her: street festivals, block festivals, boat visits, beach days. And for many Latin people in the city, summer marks the return of a secular tradition: the nights of Latin dance.

As a child, my father had my sister and I on weekends, and he would take us to South Street Seaport for Salsa Night. It was before the recent renovation, at the time when the Fulton fish market was still operating out of the city center and filled the air with the strong perfume of Tilapia, salmon and bar. But as you get closer to the water, the perfume has dissipated and the rhythm of the key has been stronger. You would pass Pizzeria Uno and the bar-Disparct Sequoia, turns a corner and boom, a dance floor full of the best steppers in New York, the bass thick enough to swim.

These nights of Latin dance were part of my childhood. Not because I learned to dance there (I still don’t have it fully), but because of the experience of the community they provided, the Latin Enclave that wrapped you when you entered. It was like a big family, where the faces you had not seen for years would go and out of the crowd. I still have good relations with all my father’s friends (who are now in sixty) because of these Latin dance nights. I still remember the many times that my parents – separated for years at that time – would come up against by chance during an event or a party, and the most difficult aspects of their relationship would be forgotten when they made their way through a song or two.

But this summer, rather than reliving these good memories, I plan to do mine and go in as many Latin dance nights as possible. Toñitas’ 50th anniversary evening in June was a show to see. In the middle of the confrontation of charming restaurants and three -story brick buildings at South Williamsburg, Grand Street was filled with giration bodies to the rhythms of salsa and reggaeton. Sellers from the whole city, like Fonda, served Puerto Rican staples, while others have provided conventional Caribbean refreshments such as Coco Frio; DJs and live groups played in the background. It was a day that felt like it was in the old town of New York.

But while Toñitas was a legitimate return, two other organizations, Perreo 2 The People and the 704, worked hard to try to bring the future sounds of Puerto Rico to the Big Apple. Twice in as many months, the collectives have organized Perreo evenings at the Starr Bar in Bushwick, presenting the next generation of island talents. More than being a platform for emerging artists like Bendi La Bendición, Taiana, Keysokeys and Eyel C, the parts also serve as a bridge between the diaspora and the fatherland. At a time when Puerto Ricans disappear from the city that we helped build, these parties are an important element in maintaining culture, language and political power that we have seen decrease as rents have been skyrocketing. And for me, they represent a kind of return to the return.

I have been a colored professional for many years now, sailing in the upper and stockings of the business world. As I did, I found that new environments and opportunities have opened me, having my concrete beginnings move away. Working in technology meant nights filled with craft beer, ping-pong and karaoke. Advertising led me to the streets covered with Buffalo snow, where decades old ads and Ritzy gastronomy mix on main street. However, the more I became rooted in corporate culture, the more ready -to -employment I was looking for, the more I am far from the humble Latin Parties who supported me in my youth. We didn’t need a lot to have fun, no high -level alcohol or fantasy aperitifs. We just needed a beat and a dance floor.

Now that I am older and wiser, I can’t wait to return to my roots, come back and give back to my community, and recover a piece of myself that I had long. And maybe I will finally become the Salsa dancer that I always wanted to be.

Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latin identity and culture. He does everything, from exclusive interviews to Latin music artists to opinion plays on questions relevant to the community, personal tests linked to his Latinidad, and parts and characteristics of thought relating to the Puerto Rico and Porto Rican culture.