What Is Chimbanguele?

Chimbanguele is an Afro-Venezuelan tradition from my home state of Zulia, in western Venezuela. It’s practiced during the annual celebrations for San Benito de Palermo, a Black saint who holds deep spiritual and cultural significance in the region. The celebration brings together music, dance, procession, and prayer, and features about seven distinct Chimbanguele rhythms, known as “sones”, originating from Bantu traditions. The first rhythm that opens the festivities is called “Cantica” - and that’s the one this composition is based on.

The music is performed using a set of seven drums, each with its own name and role: Mayor, Medio Golpe, Tambor Segundo, Respondón, First Requinta, Second Requinta, and Media Requinta. Traditionally, the drums enter one by one in a specific ceremonial order, gradually building the rhythm. If the groove isn’t locking in, the Captain who leads the ensemble (or the “Vasallo”) can stop everything and call for a reset. That level of precision and respect for the rhythm is what gives Chimbanguele its power.

You’ll also hear maracas, voice, chanting, and a metal flute (which actually comes from the Indigenous side of the tradition). There’s a strong sense of call and response between the Captain and the people. It’s a celebration, yes, but also a form of devotion and memory. For me, it’s part of my musical DNA.

FIRST SINGLE RELEASE

The story behind it…
- Juan Diego Villalobos

This song came to me in a dream.

I dreamt of a friend of mine—a drummer I know from New York—playing Chimbanguele, a traditional Afro-Venezuelan rhythm, over a melody I’d never heard before. The strange thing is, the tune didn’t exist yet in real life, but in the dream, it was already fully formed. She was just in it, playing these ancestral Venezuelan rhythms over this haunting melody that was floating on top. I woke up immediately and thought, What was that? And then it hit me: she was playing Chimbanguele.

That melody stuck with me. I knew I had to get it down before it disappeared. That’s where the title “Antes Que Se Vaya” comes from, meaning Before It Goes Away. I grabbed my instrument, transcribed the line exactly as I remembered it, and got it on paper. What’s amazing to me is that the melody I heard in my sleep fits perfectly over any one of the seven core Chimbanguele rhythms.

This composition ended up being a fusion of two worlds: my childhood in Venezuela, where I attended San Benito processions with my parent - especially with my dad, who is a “Cultor” or Griot of Chimbanguele - and my present-day life as a contemporary composer living in New York. It felt like both of those timelines were collapsing into one musical moment, and I just had to listen and write it down

This piece brings together a lot of parts of my life - dreams, memory, rhythm, and tradition. It’s one of the most personal compositions I’ve written, and I hope when you listen, you can feel where it comes from. 

Thanks for listening - Antes que se vaya.