Alex TorresBy Clay Livingston
Photography by Hubert Schriebl
Once a summer the stately Lincoln mansion throbs with the beat of Latin rhythms..
Hildene, the 1905 historic home of Robert Todd Lincoln in Manchester, rises out of the July heat like a Georgian retreat. The columns give it a noble look, while the sandstone facade connotes a detached, cool stillness. With no warning the obtrusive humidity erupts with a thumping, vibrant, Latin throb. It is Alex Torres and His Latin Orchestra hunkered down the hill at the event tent arrogantly interrupting the main house’s reverie.
I have come to this event to soothe my inner Latin child who strains to disrobe the ancestral confines of a Scottish heritage. Bagpipes have their place, often at Hildene, but tonight is about Latin passion. Devote followers have traveled from afar to this gracious site, but it is the abundance of local Vermonters that intrigues me. Alex Torres has gotten us off our porches for a celebration of culture.
Despite the irresistible vibe, revelers saunter through the main house’s formal gardens to inspect the Battenkill River view and jealously peer under my feet, envious of the body in repose. My two-year-old has retreated beneath a garden bench to sprawl on the cool marble slab, her little red face flat on the stone. She quickly absorbs the rock’s restorative chill and trots after her sister in a game of peony hide-and-seek. They gleefully roll down the sharply inclined terrace to the picnic area. From the lawn, random arms and legs can be seen feverishly undulating under the tent. The crowd looks like one colorful, contorted beast. At its fringe the more New England-y types sit in lawn chairs, cataloging dance steps perhaps, and enjoying the spectacle of impassioned movement.
People eat authentic Latin food, chat, and generally recline on the verdant green grounds while the beat explodes from under the tent. My husband sits on a blanket reading the paper as if he were commuting. Not a Latin cell in his body, but enjoying himself nonetheless. Alex Torres and his Latin Orchestra inspire all types during their annual pilgrimage to Southern Vermont. I am dragged to the tent, each of my children wielding an arm, and every step takes me farther from rural Vermont and closer to Torres—Amsterdam, New York-style salsa. I crane my neck to see Torres. The thirteen-member band takes up the entire stage without trying. Band members stand shoulder to shoulder, looking hot but enthused, brandishing a plethora of African, European and Caribbean instruments that seem like portable pieces of art.....
