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RENAISSANCE MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN

I met Peter (now “Pedro”) Widdicombe in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico in the early part of 1967, shortly after my arrival on “la Isla del Encanto.” Peter had just come in from New York City, with the intention of never going back. He was a concert pianist who had been attempting to support his studies by working in a community youth center. He was unnerved by that experience, along with that of the general social upheaval of the time. My many years of Spanish-language study and time spent in Mexico considerably eased maneuvering in Puerto Rico for me. Peter, on the other hand, spoke not a word of the local language and, in his non-tourist status, was pretty much the proverbial “fish out of water.” Fortunately for him, his gift of the language of music was a great assist in overcoming his linguistic deficit. At the time, I was unaware of Peter’s talent in the art of painting, ceramics, sculpture and the fashioning of stringed instruments. His only concern at that time was finding a way to make a living. I was a part-time instructor with the Berlitz Schools of Language in Santurce. It is necessary to be a native of the language that one teaches at Berlitz, and they were always on the lookout for English instructor trainees. I thought this would be ideal for Peter. Ultimately, it turned out to be the key to his existence in the Caribbean.

Shortly thereafter, Berlitz sent me to Mexico City, where there was a great need for English instructors, in preparation for Mexico’s hosting of the Olympic Games the next year. (For a description of my Mexico City adventures, see my memoir “Duende,” at the above Internet address.) I was away from Puerto Rico Most of the year.

When I returned to Puerto Rico, I found Peter Widdicombe not only speaking Spanish, but reading and writing it as well. Smartly, he had isolated himself in a boarding house populated by Dominicans, where only Spanish was spoken. He had used his knowledge of Latin to crack the code of one of its derivative Romance languages. Although the Dominicans were a great assist in his learning to speak Spanish, he had far exceeded them in the knowledge of grammar, history and literature of their own language. Peter was still at Berlitz. As an adjunct to his language studying, and as a prodigious reader, he had interested himself in the history of Puerto Rico and the Spanish world. Apart from his classical music knowledge, he began learning and liking the music of Puerto Rico, Spain and Latin America. He became addicted to the “zarzuela,” a sort of Spanish operetta that never has grabbed me. Where we did jibe was with Spanish and Latin American popular music. We decided to merge our talents as composer and lyricist. Peter had two caveats: 1) Although I could read music, he insisted that the lyrics come first. 2) He would not work from English lyrics; all lyrics must be in Spanish. This was a new experience for me. Previously, I had been confined to translating song lyrics from one language to the other. Peter was now forcing me to create a lyric out of whole cloth—and in Spanish! The payoff was that, with every lyric, Peter would produce a musical notation sheet of almost print quality. The lyrics neatly would be inscribed under the proper note, in orthographic perfection. Our efforts eventually led to release contracts, for several songs, with Peer International Publishers of Puerto Rico, but little else.

I had gone back to the mainland for several years. When I returned to Puerto Rico, Peter was no longer there. I pieced together the story of his departure. Through his contacts at the boarding house, Peter had made several visits to the Dominican Republic. Those visits had acquainted him with that portion of the island of Hispaniola and given him ideas for further alienation from the social tumult that had followed him to Puerto Rico. During my absence, Peter had been able to add to his income from Berlitz by working in a music store and demonstrating pianos. He was thus able to acquire a piano of his own. Somehow, Peter had managed to purchase a piece of property in a small Dominican mountain town called Jarabacoa. He personally designed and build a little house on that piece of land that consisted only of tropical overgrowth. Then came the day that he would re-plant himself—piano and all---to that little town in the mountains—for what is now going on forty years!

We eventually re-connected, and over the years I have made several trips to the Dominican Republic and Jarabacoa. The only big change in Peter’s life in Jarabacoa is the son that he produced, and who left the Dominican Republic with the same urgency that took his father there. This is further proof of the individuality of our nature.

“Pedro” Widdicombe has become pretty much of a staple guru of Jarabacoa and the general Dominican artistic scene. Through his music, paintings and manual-creative endeavors, Peter has attracted the attention of visitors from different parts of the world. He refuses to install electricity on his property, and showers in the warm, daily Dominican rain. Despite the fact that our REALLY snail-mail communication requires about three weeks for a letter to arrive, we have been able to maintain contact over the years.

I have reprinted below the recent letter I received from Peter. His letters are handwritten and usually consist of one sheet, written on both sides. This one is a two-sheeter, written on both sides. It will provide more of an insight into Peter’s delightfully unconventional character, personality and artistic temperament. I have made parenthetical explanations where they may be needed.

”24 August 2008
Jarabacoa
Dear Curtis,

I’ve been enjoying the CD, ‘Blues, Booze and Attitude.’ I wish you and Tommy Dodson success with your one-man show. The ‘Toodle-oo’ is impressive, and I thank you for your explanation of how Tommy slowed it down. I may add that some of Beethoven’s metronome markings sound wrong to modern ears, and are changed freely.

It’s good to hear that boogie-woogie piano is still played. I sometimes play it myself.

In June, I visited the U.S. for the first time since 2003. My mother is 90. My father died during Easter week. My mother is losing her sight. I wore a temporary tattoo, and she didn’t even notice. My aunt Marie is 97 and going strong.

In New Jersey, I stayed with my son William and my two grandchildren. Am I really old enough to have grandchildren? I don’t feel it. Of course, I have smashed all my mirrors.

On May 31, I played the pipe organ in the Cateral de Santiago de los Caballeros. In Santiago, I also saw Danny Rivera (a famous Puerto Rican singer who is a close friend), who later sang the day I left for the U.S.

In New York, a five-meter tall painting of mine was exhibited at a gallery on Riverside Drive, and at Fort Washington, in Washington Heights.

In January, I took the ferry from Santo Domingo to Mayagüez (Puerto Rico). Some paintings of mine were exhibited in San Germán, and I stayed at the Inter-American University there. Before that, I stayed a few days with Vincent (Dr. Vincent Jubilee, a mutual friend, retired from the University of Puerto Rico) in Miramar, and met his English friend Josephine. I also stayed with my friend Alejandro in Campanilla, Toa Baja.

Now, I am participating in three different art exhibits; one in Santo Domingo and two in Jarabacoa. When I least expect it, I sell a painting. In New York, I sold many of my bone carvings.

I wish you weren’t so far away. California is another world for me.
I was glad to hear that your eye operation was successful. Sometimes, I hear about Richard’s (my brother Dr. Richard A. Long) doings from Vincent.

I’ll see what I can do about finding a singer for ‘Sólo Tú’ (A Spanish lyric for ‘Toodle-oo’).

Toodle-oo,

Pedro

P.S. How is Ken in Mexico? (Kenneth Nash, residing in Playas de Tijuana)”