‘Philadelphia is now one of my roots’: Mexican singer-songwriter Lila Downs to perform at Longwood Gardens
A Q&A with the Grammy Award-winner who says Philly helped shape her as an artist.
Lila Downs, the Grammy-winning singer-songwriter from Mexico, is coming back to the Philadelphia area. Downs is performing at Longwood Gardens on Wednesday, beginning at 7:30 p.m. At the time of writing, tickets are still available at longwoodgardens.org.
Downs was born in Oaxaca, Mexico, to an indigenous Mexican mother and Scottish American father. Before achieving international acclaim, she lived and performed in Philadelphia, where she began to shape the kind of artist she wanted to be.
“Whenever I was able to, I would sit in a place called Ortlieb’s, a legendary jazz place.”
As her career took off, particularly with her 1999 album, La Sandunga, Downs was recognized for her unique blend of traditional Mexican and Indigenous music. She frequently uses her music to advocate for social justice — Latinos, Indigenous peoples, and women in particular.
“Lila Downs is a vivid example of Mexico’s rich culture and millenary traditions. She is proud of her [Indigenous] Mixtec roots,” said Carlos Obrador-Garrido Cuesta, the consul of Mexico in Philadelphia. “There is an important presence of people of Indigenous descent here in Philadelphia and the surrounding areas. Many of them still speak their native language, including Mixtec and Zapotec, and hearing it in a forum like Longwood Gardens is a motive of great pride.”
As Downs begins the American leg of her “Dos Corazones” tour, she spoke with The Inquirer about returning to Philly, what she learned while living here, and how she chooses whether to subvert or embrace Mexican tradition.
This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.
When you lived in Philadelphia, you were still figuring out who you were as an artist. What was it like for you back then, and what does it mean to return?
Philadelphia is now one of my roots, it’s exciting to say that. I remember when I first moved to Philly about 20 years ago, I really felt like I was on the margins and I didn’t know what was going on. Survival is one of the main themes in the music that I was starting to compose at that time. And then slowly I began to learn about the different communities and the musical scene.
Whenever I was able , I would sit in a place called Ortlieb’s, a legendary jazz place. There was also Natalie’s Lounge and the Hollywood Palace in West Philly.
So coming back to Philly is definitely like coming back to my story. It was so exciting musically, this opening into this other world that I had only heard and read about.
At that time, you were also working for Temple doing community research. What did you take from that experience?
I was doing interviews in the barrio, the Puerto Rican barrio mainly. We were doing interviews with several communities about women who had certain diseases. It let me go into the city and really different communities, communities that are having a hard time. That was part of the painful process of accepting what this country is about, in some ways.
People would ask, where are you from? And I would say I’m from Mexico. And they’d be like, what? That was the world that Philly was at the time. Things have changed quite a bit.
I think that’s when I discovered a lot of things about myself that I hadn’t been aware of. It was about having empathy and understanding that I was alone, in a way. Which is curious because being alone made me feel more like I was part of a larger community that I shared this loneliness with.
Philly is an interesting place for that reason. I think it makes you strong. It makes you strong no matter what. And there’s something about the pride of people in that place that has a lot of force.
You just released a new album last month, “La Sánchez,” which is strongly influenced by the musical styles of northern Mexico. Women don’t often sing and perform these styles, but you take pride in it. How did you think about leaning into tradition while also making something new?
It just kind of comes natural, I think, to all of us in Mexico to be part of that music. It’s me going back to my roots again. We use these instruments that are from the old days, like a 12-string guitar called a bajo sexto. It has this beautiful acoustic sound that people really crave listening to once again.
But curiously, now that the album is out, so many people mentioned to me, this is a scene that is really predominantly male oriented. I guess I’m kind of funny that way. I’m oblivious to some of these things sometimes, and it’s helpful.
As a woman, it’s very comfortable for me to sing a lot of these lyrics that are very macho oriented. If a woman sings it, it changes the perspective. So you have me saying things like, “I’m the master of my life. I make this in my hand and I’m going to do something with it.” That message is not new, but there are few women that venture to go there.
Some of the titles in the songs are about being alone, always living with the possibility of death. My partner and husband, Paul Cohen, passed away nine months ago, and this is something that Mexicans are kind of used to.
We have a very special relationship with honoring our ancestors and the dead, we believe that our dead ones are with us and they accompany us.
“Lila Downs is a vivid example of Mexico’s rich culture and millenary traditions.”
I have his portrait with a light by it, which in our tradition, we have on for a whole year. That light communicates with me, you know. It changes, like with the light surge. It’s really unexplainable, I know there’s some kind of communication going on. I think that helps you overcome the loss.
It’s a beautiful feeling to feel accompanied by someone who is in a different plane. And it makes you stronger because it legitimates your belief.