PREVIEW: The Cuban-born musician runs the
     gamut across and beyond the jazz spectrum.

     May 8, 1998

     By STEVE EDDY
     The Orange County Register

     Arturo Sandoval,

     Dori Caymmi, Joyce

          When: 8 p.m. Saturday
          Where: Cerritos Center for the Performing Arts
          How much: $25-$40
          Call: (800) 300-4345, (562) 916-8500

     Trumpeter Arturo Sandoval has a stern warning to those
     attending his shows: Be prepared.

     "We play a few different things," the Cuban-born
     musician said of his touring aggregation. "It's even
     difficult for me to describe."

     The Grammy-winning Sandoval, who appears Saturday
     night with other Latin artists at the Cerritos Center for the
     Performing Arts, is equally comfortable with swing, hard
     be-bop and Latin and Afro-Cuban rhythms, not to
     mention classical numbers.

     "If people like only one type of music, they're not going to
     have a good time," Sandoval said by phone from his
     New York home. "But if they like music, they'll be happy.

     "I don't agree with fanatics, people who'll only listen to
     reggae or salsa. Why ignore the music of Bach or Ravel
     or Charlie Parker? You have to hear everything. I've been
     wide open all my life — open to learn. I never
     discriminate."

     Sandoval has the credentials to back up his philosophy.
     His critically acclaimed albums, since he defected to the
     United States in 1990, have ranged from the ballad-laden
     "I Remember Clifford" and the hard-charging "Swingin' "
     to the Grammy-winning "Danzon," a flat-out, highly
     energetic celebration of Cuban music.

     He also has performed with symphonies in Britain and
     Russia as well as with the L.A. Philharmonic and the
     Toledo, Oklahoma and Atlanta symphonies.

     He has shown up in everything from a Super Bowl
     halftime show to the soundtracks of films such as
     "Mambo Kings."

     He played his own classical work, the Sandoval Trumpet
     Concerto, before the Joint Chiefs of Staff and 30,000
     other people in front of the Washington Monument in
     1994.

     As if all that weren't enough, he's a fully tenured professor
     at Florida International University. Among his other
     duties, he puts on about 50 clinics every year.

     He called teaching "a kind of obligation."

     "We sometimes must pass on what we know," he said.
     "Like my trumpet teacher in Cuba did to me. You
     shouldn't keep it a secret."

     NO FAMILY SUPPORT

     The big-toned horn man, one of jazz's most ebullient
     personalities, was born in 1949 in a small town near
     Havana ("the middle of nowhere," as he puts it).

     "My family was poor," he said. "I had to quit school in the
     fifth grade. I had to work to help feed us.

     "I believe the trumpet was a blessing from God. I think it
     was God talking to me, saying, 'Hey, do you want to do
     something to help your family? Get involved in the music.'

     "When I told my family, they laughed in my face. They
     said, 'Are you crazy? Just feed the chicken and be quiet.'
     "

     But he persisted — "I told them it was going to be music
     or nothing, and finally they agreed to help me explore the
     possibilities."

     He began to study classical horn at age 12. He later
     founded the popular fusion group Irakere in Cuba and
     went on to be named the nation's top instrumentalist in
     1982-90.

     "Who could have imagined it?" Sandoval said of his
     success. "I never dreamed I'd ever play outside my
     hometown."

     He credits the great Dizzy Gillespie with much of his
     success in the jazz field — Sandoval performed with
     Gillespie's acclaimed U.N. Orchestra. (It was Gillespie, of
     course, who, in the '40s, brought Cuban rhythms to jazz in
     the first place.)

     "Dizzy means a lot to me; he's my hero," Sandoval said.
     "It was a privilege and an honor to be on five different
     records with him. He always gave of himself."

     STATELESS IN THE STATES

     Meanwhile, Sandoval officially remains without a home.
     Denied citizenship because of Communist affiliations in
     his homeland (a requirement because of his profession),
     Sandoval doesn't exactly understand the problem.

     He has appealed but hasn't heard anything in six months.

     "I don't know what's happening," he said. "All I know is
     that when I was in Cuba, I was called 'pro-Yankee.' I
     escaped from the Communists."

     Sandoval's remedy for the frustration? "All I can do is stay
     busy," he said. "I'm very involved in what I have to do
     today. All this work is what I prayed to God for."

     Asked why he thinks a president who loves jazz and
     blows a fairly mean sax hasn't intervened, Sandoval
     laughed.

     "He's doing a lot more important things."