To retire at one’s sixties, besides a legal milestone, can be a cherished goal. To thrive during one’s eighties must be, when not a physical miracle, a thrilling adventure. But to reach the age of ninety, remain lucid and laugh with (sometimes at) the world, is a gift only a happy few can claim. Such is the case of Maestro Aurelio de la Vega, who is about to initiate his ninth decade of life and work.


What is Aurelio’s secret? What is his formula for such a long, fruitful life? Some might say, proverbially, that he signed a pact with You-Know-Who. And yet, no score of Aurelio’s can be heard in any Harry Potter flic, or, alas!, on primetime TV. Neither Washington nor Havana have ever offered him pay for play, or send him limousines, or bodyguards. Might his secret lay in the only title he wears with pride: the title of Maestro?


Maestros, masters, are conductors. But they conduct much more than orchestras, or music guilds. They are, to be sure, teachers. Yet in order to be known as a Maestro you have to do, and be more, than that. First, you have to be human—all too human. Maestros are anything but gods—they wear imperfection on their sleeves. Their imperfect humanity—imperfect through judgment, temperament or liability—gives us access to them and fosters our respect. A teacher gives lessons; a Master imparts wisdom. He does so imperfectly. A Master embodies the paradox of a cherished imperfect model. And for good reason. With a boss, we obey; with the Master, we debate. The Master’s model is a process of stumbling, survival and triumph, instead of sheer luck, shady influence and dubious coronation. Above all, Masters speak—they speak to us—-“face-time” was a Master’s invention. We wander at their, sometimes incredible, anecdotes; we share their jokes, and we admire their graceful aging. Maestros we hear; we can also touch them. They also touch us.


Is that Aurelio’s secret? He’s never told me. I doubt he’s ever told anyone. (Maestros are masters at secrets!) Yet today, witnessing how well he bears his ninth decade, the imperfect humanity he displays, the respect he so commands, I can’t think of anyone who deserves that title better: the Maestro we all love.



Claremont, California, September 9th, 2016