Music: !Viva La Musica Cubana!

Jesus is running late. The State Department seemed hesitant to let him into the country--his visa application was approved and then unapproved. A few days later, without explanation, it was approved again. So now Jesus is in--but he's running late. At 11 p.m. the man checking names at the door of the Village Vanguard, the New York City jazz club where Miles played, where Monk played, says Jesus hasn't arrived but his plane "is touching down even as we speak." As a result, Jesus' set has been pushed back from 11:30 to 'round midnight. The club is half empty. Only the true believers, only the people whose jazz souls need saving, are going to stick it out that late on a weeknight.

Past midnight now, and Jesus arrives. Jesus ("Chucho") Valdes is the greatest jazz pianist in Cuba, perhaps one of the greatest pianists in the world. He's a tall man, 5 in. north of 6 ft., and wide-bodied. He is casually dressed tonight, clad in an untucked purple shirt, jeans and Fila sneakers. He has played in the U.S. before, but this month he is embarking on his first sizable Stateside tour, one of the most extensive by any Cuban performer since the embargo began in 1962. Valdes has a new solo CD to promote, Bele Bele en la Habana (Blue Note), an album of virtuosity and intellect and sorcery that could just turn out to be the attention-grabbing Kind of Blue of Cuban jazz.

He sits at the piano. He is a faucet, a river, a flood of music. His left hand pounds out sharp, staccato chords, and his right hand flies, hummingbird fast, up and down the keyboard. There is history here: the imaginative, intricate runs of Art Tatum, the restless romanticism of Bill Evans, and of course, the hot, insistent rhythms of Cuba. Valdes' set is frustratingly brief--he is exhausted from his travels--and he plays only one more tune. Afterward he is asked the name of his first number. He smiles and says, "Improvisacion!"

Cuba is an island no more, musically speaking. Its music was once a force in this country, but in the '60s, the embargo hit, and Cuban musicians were barred, for the most part, from playing in the U.S. The music, in America, slipped from a place of prominence. But in 1988 Congress passed an amendment to the embargo that allowed Cuban musicians to perform Stateside if they came as part of a cultural exchange, a requirement typically fulfilled by the artist's giving an educational workshop in addition to his or her regular gig.

Cuban artists are taking advantage of the crack in the embargo door. Over the next few weeks, Valdes plans stops in Philadelphia, Washington, Los Angeles and St. Paul, Minn. Earlier this year, La Charanga Habanera, a hard salsa act that is considered one of Havana's hottest bands, played its first-ever show in the U.S., at a festival outside Boston. Three years ago, pianist Ruben Gonzales, 79, considered himself retired and didn't even own a piano. This summer he has a solo album out (the smoothly accomplished Introducing...Ruben Gonzales on Nonesuch), and in October and November he will be touring the States. Other Cuban acts, including the dance band Los Van Van and the bright-voiced a cappella act Vocal Sampling, are also on the road in the U.S.