Get Ready to Shake Your Hips with Tambores Beat.

While Tambores might have flown under the radar for a while, its popularity is now gaining momentum due to Venezuela's massive diaspora.

Venezuela's upset victory over the United States in the world baseball classic, which took place in March, sparked widespread excitement online. The image of Eduard Bazardo enthusiastically pounding a drum in the dugout during the fifth inning became an instant sensation on social media. Journalists were left scrambling to put into words the infectious energy emanating from the Venezuelan team's dugout celebration.

Daniel Alvarez-Montes, director of El ExtraBase, recalled being questioned by Japanese reporters who asked what was happening. They were referring to tambores, a dance form that originated on Venezuelan cacao and coffee plantations in the 1600s among enslaved individuals. During tambores, participants move within a circular formation, executing energetic hip movements and spinning to the beat of the drums.

Venezuelan culture is gaining momentum globally as millions of its citizens relocate to Europe, other South American nations and the US. This diaspora is sparking a renewed interest in traditional Latin dances like Tambores, which was previously overshadowed by more popular styles such as merengue, salsa and bachata.

At Lincoln Center in New York, a vibrant spectacle awaits on June 20th as part of the Summer for the City initiative, marking its fourth consecutive year of thrilling tambores performances. The event kicks off with an energetic drum procession that eventually gives way to lively call-and-response songs and dynamic dancing on Hearst Plaza.

Tambores Bombayá's creator, Jeickov Vital, is set to embark on a journey from Savannah, Ga., to New York for an upcoming event. The recent surge in attention surrounding the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua and Nicolás Maduro's past presidency had a profound impact on Venezuelans' desire to showcase their cultural heritage in a more positive light. As a result of this shift, Vital observed that many Venezuelans are eager to dispel misconceptions about their community. They want to convey that the negative narratives surrounding them do not represent the entire nation.

Mariana Martin Capriles, a Venezuelan DJ known as MPeach, residing in New York City, observed a significant resurgence of tambores during her recent visit back home. The vibrant rhythm is no longer confined to clubs but also echoes through city streets, reflecting a renewed sense of national pride. According to Capriles, the phenomenon's magnitude abroad pales in comparison to Venezuela, where it has become an integral part of cultural expression, allowing people to reconnect with their heritage.

Venezuelan Americans dominated last year's Lincoln Center gathering, brandishing white flags and donning straw hats adorned with sashes. The heartbeat of tambores lies in their drums, crafted from wood and wrapped in animal hide, each one unique in size. Men among the percussionists vigorously shook maracas while women waved crimson bandannas as they sang "Que Lindo Se Ve San Juan", a vibrant tribute to San Juan's beauty.

Festival San Juan Bautista festivities were in full swing, honoring the patron saint most closely tied to tambores. This celebration coincided with the summer solstice, a rare day off for enslaved workers who likely cherished it. The festival's highlight involved a wooden statue of Saint John being carried to morning mass and then proudly paraded through the streets.

Following the procession at Lincoln Center, dancers gathered in a circle, where they energetically jumped in and out of the formation. As they moved, their hips swayed and arms extended, creating a mesmerizing spectacle that captivated all who watched. After roughly one minute, those in the center were gently tapped on the shoulder to clear the way for newcomers. Typically, dancers paired up as opposite-sex couples, yet maintained a subtle distance from each other, exuding an unmistakable air of sensuality.

Venezuela's cultural landscape has undergone significant transformations over time, with San Juan gradually gaining national recognition. Historically, Afro-Venezuelans were largely confined to the coastal regions, their presence often relegated to menial service roles in urban areas. According to Mesi Bakari-Walton, assistant professor of Spanish and African diaspora studies at Howard University, this marginalization stemmed from a perceived lack of cultural significance among Afro-Venezuelan communities.

Venezuela's music scene underwent a significant transformation in the 1980s. Pioneering groups like Un Solo Pueblo and Tambor Urbano successfully introduced folkloric songs to a wider audience. Choroní, a coastal town, experienced rapid growth as tourists flocked to experience the vibrant tambores culture. By day, visitors could soak up the sun on the beach; by night, they'd dance under the stars to the infectious beat of drums.

Growing up with Venezuelan roots has given me an appreciation for traditional tambores dance. Watching my cousins perform it sparked something within me, and before long, I was jumping into the circle alongside them. The high-energy rhythm is infectious, sending heart rates soaring - mine certainly did! To master this dynamic dance, one must drag a leg while moving the other in a circular motion, engaging the core throughout. Those who've tried tambores know it's all about breaking free with your hips.

Growing up in the 1980s, I witnessed a remarkably low rate of migration from Venezuela. The economic downturn that followed had a profound impact, setting off a massive wave of emigration. Over eight million Venezuelans have departed their homeland since 2014. Currently, approximately 800,000 reside within the United States' borders.

Tambores experienced a revival thanks to these newcomers. In 2015, Willie Quintana settled in New York, where he eventually teamed up with Daniel Prim to form Tambor y Caña two years later. As more Venezuelans arrived in the city in 2022, some of them discovered Quintana through social media platforms. According to Quintana, many new arrivals would contact him on Instagram, expressing their desire to jam together despite being housed in a Brooklyn shelter with their drums.

Venezuelan Americans find a sense of community through performances that bring them together. According to Andreina Torres Angarita, an urban studies expert at Barnard College, Venezuelans in New York lack designated neighborhoods like those found in Washington Heights for Dominicans or Jackson Heights for Colombians. As a result, they are scattered throughout the city. Dance and music serve as vital links that facilitate connections among people from diverse backgrounds.

In 2022, Quintana collaborated with a group from New York's Venezuelan community to recreate a vibrant procession across the Williamsburg Bridge. This endeavor caught the attention of Carlos Chirinos, an assistant professor of music at New York University and curator of Latin music at Lincoln Center, who extended an invitation for Quintana to headline a San Juan event at the prestigious venue in the following year. Chirinos' enthusiasm was driven by his understanding that Venezuelans, particularly Black Venezuelans, find a strong sense of belonging in San Juan, aligning with Lincoln Center's mission to celebrate the diverse culture of all New Yorkers.

The announcement of a San Juan event at a renowned cultural institution sparked excitement among the diaspora community. Four sons accompanied Vital as he traveled to New York for the procession. A talented tambores dancer from Miami, Grace Salamanca, was also on hand to deliver master classes along the East Coast. Meanwhile, Ronaldo Cardenas, a Tennessee-based sheet metal worker, embarked on an 18-hour road trip with two fellow Venezuelans to participate in the event. He has since established his own tambores group in Nashville, where he invested heavily in drums, costumes and merchandise.

Tambores' impact extends beyond its traditional boundaries, seeping into broader musical and dance landscapes. MPeach, niece of Un Solo Pueblo's founders, has been experimenting with tambor electrónico for years, blending the genre in innovative ways. Dennis Gutierrez, aka DNS, discovered the infectious tambores beat in New York clubs and seamlessly integrated it into his sets at Café Citron in Washington, D.C. To get crowds moving, DJs often rely on well-known tambores anthems like "Ley o ley o ley," a catchy refrain that never fails to energize the dance floor.

Orestes Gómez brings his unique tambores-infused sound to Lincoln Center's David Rubenstein Atrium on June 26. His album "No Me Fui Porque Quise" is a genre-bending fusion of jazz, hip-hop, and Afro-Caribbean rhythms, reflecting the experiences of Venezuelans living abroad. Venezuelan musician Orestes Gómez will showcase his creative use of tambores at Lincoln Center's outdoor venue.

Tambores purists may scoff at this rendition, but Chirinos counters with the fact that traditional tambores music has long relied on oral transmission, inevitably changing over time as it's been played for centuries now.

For Tambores Beat to endure, mere dissemination isn't enough; its evolution is crucial. The tradition needs to adapt and connect with new audiences who may not be familiar with its rhythms. When the next viral tambores clip surfaces, viewers won't need a tutorial – they'll have witnessed it or even mastered its moves.