Estaremos Bien: 24 hours with Yasser Tejeda
Updated: 1 day ago
Ever since he was a teenager I have seen Yasser Tejeda open doors.
I mean this literally. We grew up only blocks apart in Santo Domingo. I have memories of running into him with a flimsy guitar case hanging from his back as he hailed down a carro público — dilapidated vehicles from decades past which serve as one of the city’s main forms of public transportation.
Even back then, his name circulated the local music scene. He was one of the guys often referred to as un berdugo — Dominican slang for really freaking good. Years later I started running into him in Boston when I was on tour. I’d be roaming the music stores on Boylston Street, and I’d bump into him as he headed to class at Berklee where he’d won a scholarship.
“¡Dimelo mi hermano!” He would call out to me then, as he still does now. The guitar case on his back newer, but the same big smile.
Recently it was me he opened a door for.
I had been promising all year to travel to New York and watch him perform the role of Eliade’s Ochoa on Broadway’s rendition of Buena Vista Social Club. A flight delay had me landing in New York past one am. “I gotta go to bed right after a gig I have tonight,” he told me via a What’s App voice note. “The door is open, just lock it behind you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The next day after breakfast, we sat in his home studio to watch the video for his newest single “Estaremos Bien” — a playful and tender anthem simmered in modern bachata feeling; one of the many Dominican genres which he has come to dominate.
The video stars his wife and toddler and is shot in the woods of New York and on the streets of his Bushwick neighborhood. It’s a tear-jerker in the best way, tastefully reminding the viewer of the power of simplicity and of how what comes straight from the heart rarely needs embellishment. “I used to stress out about filming music videos. Not any more. I just go with what’s flowing,” he told me.
Somehow the lyrics to the song mirrored the very conversation we’d just had in the living room; keeping a positive outlook throughout the many challenges and periods of self-doubt that come with not just life itself, but with choosing to go all-in on one’s dreams.
Se entorpece el equilibrio
Cuando dudo de mi mismo
(My balance becomes clumsy, when I doubt myself)
De que siempre habrá un mañana
Que nos dá
Nuestro sol
Nos recuerda que al final
Estaremos bien.
(There will always be a tomorrow that our Sun gifts us, reminding us that in the end we will be ok)
We got ready and took the trains to the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, so I could catch the first of his two performances that day. As I saw him being buzzed in through the artist's door, I thought about all he’d accomplished in years since releasing his La Madrugá album. Achievements like performing on NPR’s Tiny Desk, and even appearing on Netflix’s Office Romance, a romantic comedy set in the Dominican Republic and starring a fellow Caribbean-New Yorker; none other than Jennifer Lopez.
“After I learned to play the Cuban tres for this role is when I really understood that everything is possible,” he told me, as techs tested the spotlights for the show. Seeing him standing there on the stage of the theater after immigrating to the US from our neighborhood, and knowing how he is carving out a blossoming career through pure devotion to his craft, I couldn’t help but believe him.
Yasser gave me a tour backstage then I was off to my seat. After a brief chat with the man seated next to me, I humble-bragged that I was there to see a friend who had a role in the show. “How wonderful!” He said, and I told him I’d point my buddy out to him.
To my surprise, Yasser was one of the first people front and center on the stage, opening the show by virtuously strumming on the Cuban guitar. What followed was nothing short of mastery. Midway through the show, by the time he improvises an extended, minutes-long solo where he walks the stage from side to side working each section of the crowd into an absolute frenzy, it was clear how much he had downplayed his participation to me.
“Holy cow!” The man who I now knew was Joseph from Connecticut exclaimed. “He is terrific, that guy is your friend?!” He asked in disbelief. “Yeah…” I replied. On par with what I know of Yasser; berdugo-ness aside, his biggest talent might be his humility.
We hugged it out after the performance and I took the train to La Guardia. Early the next morning after another flight delay, I sent him a voice note from home. “Hey loco, I can’t get the song out of my head and your performance was brilliant! It feels like you're living in complete alignment. Congrats.”
With fresh new music, tour dates lined up for this year and the next, I can’t say I will be surprised by the next big-news text I receive from him. Not because doors magically unlock for him, but because he’s not afraid to do the work of opening them himself.
