At 4 in the afternoon, their Lincoln Road offices reflect all the calm of the New York Stock Exchange, though with a distinct Miami flavor. The phones never stop. The background buzz of conversation, both in Spanish and English, is in the foreground, and roughly 10 decibels louder than in most corporate offices. A woman in white scurries around offering Cuban coffee. Andy Garcia has stopped by to say hello. Young employees, accustomed to the presence of the truly famous, take note. (Andy!)

There is more ambient warmth here and less pretension than you’d experience during Sunday brunch at The News Cafe, but it’s just another day at Estefan Enterprises.

Still, the Estefans neither have nor do they tolerate pretension ("I see myself as no different from anyone," says Gloria). Emilio, regarding his wife like a schoolboy with a crush, mentions, "She has never said no to an autograph. The people who buy our records, who send us letters, deserve our thanks, and if that means an autograph, we are happy to oblige." Giving back to fans and community is something the Estefans do without thinking, as if to say, how could anyone do otherwise?

Maybe this comes from knowing firsthand what it’s like to do without. An émigré, Gloria came to Miami with her mother and sister at a time when there was no caché in being a Cuban refugee. Her family had no money, and her father had to stay behind.

But contrary to the customs in the confessional Age of Oprah, wherein everyone has been victimized and abused, it’s plain that this woman is no victim.

She simply says, "Instead of crying, I sang."

"I just always knew singing and music would be a part of my life. Eventually I was happy with what I had and never wanted to be anyone else, but as far as performing, I was a wreck – my knees used to shake on stage."

She has obviously gotten over her initial stage-fright, but touring today poses other challenges. "I have to be very disciplined when I am on tour. I can’t raise my voice [which, she interjects, make her children very happy]. I can’t go out to dinner, I don’t do interviews, I have to work out and eat very carefully to keep up my stamina."

Discipline she knows about, discipline and tenacity. In 1990 she had to search within herself for endless reservoirs of both, for she had been told she would never walk again because of crippling injuries received in an accident aboard her tour bus. (Emilio, who is still astonished at his wife’s resilience, says, "I have so much respect for her, not only as my wife but as a human being.")

From that experience, she said she learned volumes about the power of love and prayer "but not in the religious or dogmatic sense. I learned how to channel positive energy, and I came to believe that people are in control of their own destiny. And they can do anything if they really want it."

If she hadn’t known before the accident, there’s no doubt whatsoever now about her understanding of the growth that can come from pain. The attitudes she consequently embraced have become for her a source of personal power. "I had to work on it," she admits. "I used to have a hard time expressing myself."

That’s somewhat difficult to believe light of her crossover success. She attributes this in part to never attempting to translate directly from Spanish to English and vice versa. Instead, she strives to convey the feeling of a song and pay less attention to the actual lyrics ("It’s more of a challenge to express feelings of love in English.").

Though this month she releases her first English-language album in five years, she professes no preference for singing in one language more than the other. "Each language has its own appeal. Musically, this album has more Caribbean influences than I’ve used before. I think the lyrics are a bit more introspective, and love tends to be a running theme."

Multilingualism has led her to become a voracious reader of literature, but Gloria steers clear of anything written about her. "I am human. I like to remember the interview and how I felt when I was talking to the person rather than their interpretation."

Emilio, however, reads everything but never takes it personally. "It’s really just a opinion, and everyone is entitled to their own," he says, though the recognizes that the press has been relatively kind to the Estefans. "I believe it’s because we are real and we don’t try to hide anything. One journalist spent three days with me, looking for something. I took her with me everywhere, to get my hair cut, to the store, and I told people she was my cousin. At the end she said, ‘Gee you really are just a nice guy’."

Emilio sports an air of boyish playfulness, incongruous with the stereotype of the shark-eat-shark music executive. Btu even though this demeanor is not a veneer, it does hide the soul of a self-confessed perfectionist. "I have to have everything done well," he says. "I like my car to be spotless, and, yes I make to-do lists." This remark triggers a muffled laugh from an employee, and one has to wonder whether the veneer masks a perfectionist’s temper. He says not. "If I am mad or angry, you know right away, and then I let go of it. But I have great people working around me; there is no reason to get so upset."

But nice, playful guys aren’t renowned for building music empires. Somewhere there must be a hunger for perfection. "I call it anal," Gloria says, laughing, yet giving the devil his due. "Emilio is very driven, where I am more complacent, but we are a unique balance." Were this entirely true, Gloria herself would be genuinely unique: the only Hispanic woman in history to have won a Grammy, along with the Hispanic Heritage Award and a Best Latin Female Artist Award, not to mention 50 albums that went platinum worldwide, and built a successful marriage in her spare time.

The Estefans’ warm and fuzzy public image has motivated more than one journalist to toss out some bait in hopes of catching a real character flaw. How would they live without all the trappings of success?

"I would be the same," Emilio says. "I would just give away smaller amounts." Apparently the trait runs in the family – his dad is in the habit of giving away Estefan CD and tapes to everyone he sees ("I have given him five cars, but he gives them all away."). Perhaps reciprocal good fortune runs in the family. After giving away 28 of 29 Lotto tickets he had purchased, Emilio’s father won a quarter-million dollars with the one he retained for himself.

The more they give, the more they get.

© All rights reserved by South Florida

Ein spezielles Dankeschön an Amanda Warnock. Du bist immer so lieb zu mir! 
A special Thank You to Amanda Warnock. You are always so lovely to me! :-)

zurück