The following is an excerpt from the forthcoming book Muévelo: The Enduring Legacy of Latin Music Across Borders by Verónica Bayetti Flores and Miriam Zoila Pérez, out August 18 from Running Press Adult.
Podcast hosts of Radio Menea, Miriam Zoila Pérez and Verónica Bayetti Flores, explore how Latin music has been shaped by movements of people, culture, and sound across decades of Latin artists and songs. Through collections of essays, playlists, timelines, album deep dives, and more, the authors share their examination of the role and influence that movements, migration, and colonialism, had and have on all types of Latin music genres, from bachata to boleros, to salsa and norteños.
Within these vibrant pages you’ll find song-by-song analysis of significant albums like Selena’s iconic Amor Proihbido, explorations of the places and migrations that have shaped Latin music, timelines explaining the context in which this music lives, and so much more. With profiles of movements and artists as lively and passionate as the music itself, Muévelo is an essential exploration of the music that moves us, both on the dance floor and in life.
How about we take this to the next level?
Subscribe to our newsletter for a refreshing cocktail (or mocktail) of LGBTQ+ entertainment and pop culture, served up with a side of eye-candy.
Subscribe to our Newsletter today
“You don’t ask about what you can see.”
-Juan Gabriel
In 2002, when a middle-aged and long-famous Juan Gabriel went on Primer Impacto—an afternoon tabloid news program that included everything from politics to Walter Mercado’s astrology readings to the latest Virgen María sighting on a tortilla—curious young reporter Fernando de Rincón asked him, “¿Juan Gabriel es gay?” He coyly tried to avoid the question. “Are you very interested?” Juan Gabriel joked. But the two men’s smiles soon turned into an awkward silence. “Dicen que lo que se ve nose pregunta, mijo.” (“They say that you don’t ask about what you can see, my son.”)
And it was true. Back then, only six years after the Defense of Marriage Act was signed into law in the United States, and long before most people saw legalizing gay marriage as a political possibility, this was a normal way to be for queer artists around the world. Surely, many artists were completely closeted, provoking little suspicion among mass audiences. But for those for whom there was no hiding, the artists whose closets were always made of glass, audiences could let it slide with “lo que se ve no se pregunta.” If the artist was a genius, it seemed, what they did in the bedroom was simply none of our business, as long as they didn’t make much noise about it.
Chavela Vargas, the Costa Rican singer who was adopted by Mexico for her powerful renditions of Mexican folk songs and raised eyebrows when she sang to female love interests, was understood by many to be queer long before she came out at age eighty-one. Leaving a trail of rumored romances with women, including one with Frida Kahlo, she wasn’t exactly subtle. “Ponme la mano aquí” (“Put your hand on me here”), she instructed a love interest while praising the shape of her breasts, her mouth, and her waist in her famous 1961 song “Macorina.” Her sexuality was somewhat of an open secret, aided by her choice of more masculine dress. Her coming out was a surprise to no one who had been paying any attention.
Ana Gabriel, too, long the target of rumors for her pained love songs about longing and loving in secret, opened up about her “marida” (wife) in 2024. Songs like “Simplemente Amigos” and “Quién Como Tú” fit the vibe, and rumors always swirled. So, without any confirmation, Latinx queers took her songs as gay anthems and thought of her as family. And when she finally openly talked about her wife, we were pleased to see the honesty but were once again unsurprised.
Things have changed in the decades since that infamous Juan Gabriel interview. In 2010, Puerto Rican pop star Ricky Martin came out after years of refusing to answer questions about his private life. Despite having come out to his mother at eighteen, Ricky was thirty-eight by the time he finally shared his truth with the world. And despite discouragement from his management at the time,18 Ricky’s career has survived and even thrived post his coming out—just one indication that we’re in a landscape that has changed significantly for queer artists.
Javiera Mena and Alex Anwandter, artists from Chile’s 2000s and 2010s independent scene, have long been out, even at times when it felt somewhat dangerous—for their safety, for their sales—to do so. But more mainstream artists are also speaking about queer experiences, as has Cardi B, or are just making songs openly about same-sex love interests and sex, like Young Miko or the always raunchy Tokischa.
But this newfound freedom to express queerness does not extend equally to everyone in the broader LGBTQ+ community. We’ve yet to see an openly queer Latino man have significant success in some of the more male-dominated genres, like reggaeton or bachata, and trans folks in mainstream Latin music are few and far between. Villano Antillano, the spitfire trans woman who can probably outrap 99 percent of the men she has shared stages and song credits with, is a singular talent and an exception to this reality.
And Arca, whose electronic music and production work isn’t exactly well known by mainstream audiences, transitioned after she had already found success in the electronic music scenes where she was revered. Trans electronic artist Aérea Negrot worked mostly in underground electronic music scenes in Berlin until her passing at forty-three in 2003.
As queers of a certain age, we’ve seen so many social and political shifts around queerness and gender diversity (and quite a bit of backlash as well). We are curious to see how these dynamics continue to evolve, and how the artists yet to come will relate to them.
We truly hope that in our lifetimes we will have seen the world move from “lo que se ve no se pregunta” to an industry where artists across the LGBTQ+ spectrum can be out and commercially successful, to a future where perhaps labels around sexuality and gender will evolve in ways that are unknown to us now. What a time to be alive.
Excerpt from the forthcoming book Muévelo: The Enduring Legacy of Latin Music Across Borders by Verónica Bayetti Flores and Miriam Zoila Pérez, out August 18 from Running Press Adult.
Sign up for the Queerty newsletter to stay on top of the hottest stories in LGBTQ+ entertainment, politics, and culture.
