For her 10th studio album, Kany García decided to revisit her past and return to her mother’s home in the countryside of Morovis, Puerto Rico, delving into memory and establishing a beautiful, sincere dialogue with her inner child.
“When I finished García, it felt a big challenge because after naming an album after your last name, it’s like, ‘Where do we go next?’” the singer/songwriter tells Billboard Español about her ultra-personal 2024 set, which earned a Latin Grammy for best traditional pop vocal album. “I felt the need to explore things connected to my roots in terms of instrumentation. I didn’t necessarily want to make a folkloric album, but I did want to lean into something that had those kinds of connotations. So, we started thinking about conceptualizing the album before writing the songs.”
“I did everything backward,” she continues, “because throughout my career, I’ve always written the songs first and then figured out how they all fit together. This process has been so beautiful for me, full of learning, and I think it gave me more clarity and direction about where I wanted the songs to go. When I conceptualized it with the team, it was like, ‘What if you had a conversation with your inner child?’”
Thus was born Puerta Abierta, released Thursday night (April 9) under 502 Records with 11 tracks, including the previously released singles “Tierra Mía” and “La Mala Era Yo,” a norteño-inspired tune featuring Yuridia. Full of reflections on identity, resilience, tenderness and self-discovery — and infused with rhythms and native instruments from Puerto Rico, the Caribbean and beyond — the album also features collaborations with the legendary Juan Luis Guerra on “Amor Bonito,” Venezuelan band Rawayana on “La Culpa,” and Argentine singer Nathy Peluso on “Gatita.”
Just like in the album cover and the previews she shared on social media, her “inner child” will appear in some way in the music videos.
“It’s not just an ode to my childhood,” García notes. “I think the inner child was the starting point for having conversations with her, telling her what I love today, what I’ve healed from what she experienced, and also embracing the things about her that I adored and had forgotten I adored… It quite autobiographical.”
Next week, the artist will embark on an extensive world tour that will keep her on the road for most of the year. Kicking off on April 17 at the Palacio de los Deportes in Mexico City, it currently includes stops in nearly 40 cities across Latin America and Europe, with more dates to be announced.
Below, Kany García breaks down five essential songs from Puerta Abierta. To listen to the full album, click here.
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“Puerta Abierta”
One doesn’t open the door to just anyone; we usually keep it locked. For me, it was a way of saying: “Come in, because everything here is about to be shared.” I think that’s where the idea of giving this title [to the album] comes from. It represents a greater vulnerability, transparency and honesty.
Musically, it’s a type of seis. In Puerto Rico, there are many types of seis: seis chorreado, seis mapellé, seis andino, seis fajardeño — they’re different tempos within the genre of traditional countryside music. In this case, it’s a seis that also has a mix of Cuban son. It also has that sound that people often associate with Buena Vista Social Club and that kind of sonority.
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“Amor Bonito” feat. Juan Luis Guerra
This is the first time I’ve collaborated with Juan Luis, and honestly, it was such a beautiful dream because I didn’t just want to collaborate with him — I’m also a huge fan of his musicians. I had already worked with some of them before, like [Luis] Payán; I had used his guitar on other merengue songs I had done. But being able to enjoy watching Chocolate, his percussionist, as he recorded? That was really something special. It was also beautiful to see his pianist, Janina [Rosado], recording. It felt like a true exchange. I don’t always get that with the artists I collaborate with. But when it comes to learning and letting go of your ego a little, I told myself: “Look, if we’re going to play a merengue pambiche, let’s go to the Dominican Republic and do it with the musicians who live and breathe this every day — who have merengue for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” And that’s what we did.
Juan Luis and I weren’t both together in the Dominican Republic at the same time. That was crazy because when he recorded, I was in Madrid. Later on, we did get closer through the musicians. But we laughed a lot because it was the first time that, even from a distance, I had so many exchanges about how he felt in the studio. He would tell me things like, “I perceive the song in this way; what are you trying to say with this?” It was really special for me that he was so open in sharing his perspective on the song and how to narrate it.
I had written the song thinking, “He’ll come in on this verse and sing this chorus.” And when he sent me [his recording] back, I said, “How strange, the part you decided to come in on.” And he told me: “Look, Kany, as I listened to you sing, I thought, ‘This is a song about a love you can’t dedicate when you’re 20 years old.’ It’s a love where you’ve seen the darkest parts of the other person. It’s a love that’s also full of responsibility. You’re there, knowingly, aware of both the light and shadow of the other person.” And then he said: “And that love is sometimes like a conversation between two people where one says, ‘Oh, do you remember when we went to that place?’ And the other replies, ‘No, that was a couple of years ago.’ And you go, ‘Oh, that’s right.’ So I felt like I needed to sing one line, and you the next, because it’s two people, a little more grown, sharing the intimacy of a journey together.”
And I just thought, well, that’s why he’s Juan Luis Guerra and I’m Kany García, and I’m here to learn from him.
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“Tierra Mía”
I adore this song because my first love has been my country. And beyond that, love also brings suffering, and I also suffer from many of the things that happen here. [However, “Tierra Mía”] has a sound that I intentionally wanted to distance from Puerto Rico, a sound more connected to the Southern Cone of Latin America musically. I did it with the full intention of creating a song for all of Latin America, about their land, about what happens there, and about how they wish to live.
It is definitely a song that draws more from Argentine folklore, from a chacarera, from thinking about the bombo legüero, from thinking about that type of music, that Andean folklore we have.
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“Lamento”
I chose “Lamento” because there’s very little of a nostalgic Kany on the album. Many years ago — going back to my inner child — I used to played the cello. When I wanted to come back and was thinking about the tour, I wanted to reconnect with that little girl and those conversations, and I found my instrument again, covered in dust. For this song, I had to make it a task to play the instrument again and record it, and it was a really beautiful process for me. So, beyond what the song is about, I think it’s about returning to habits that we shouldn’t abandon, which, with the passing years and the rush of time, we often end up leaving aside.
Musically, it’s a song with a more traditional pop sound, more elegant, leaning towards the style of a ballad, but it also incorporates elements of country music. In fact, we recorded live drums and asked both the drummer and the guitarists to use more elements inspired by Nashville, rather than sticking solely to traditional pop.
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“A La Niña Que Fui”
For me, the cherry on top was finishing the album with a song I wrote for my inner child. I think many women are going to sing it to their inner girls because the song speaks to the countless disguises we put on to appear strong — because it’s necessary to go out into the world and work, to move to another country as immigrants and start a new life, to fight for your partner’s illness and go to the hospital every day, staying strong and looking okay. Or for your mother who’s aging. Or simply for yourself at work, where people don’t know what you’re going through at home, and you have to wear that mask.
Musically, it’s like a flamenco-inspired pop, we could say, and very acoustic because it has almost no elements.
For the choruses, which are important, I didn’t want to use professional backup singers but rather ordinary women. I started recording women who’ve had to build armor in their lives for one reason or another — that was the common thread, nothing else. I recorded the wives of my musicians. Then I even sat my 82-year-old mother down, taught her the song with the guitar, and recorded her. I sat down friends who have children with functional diversities and have been single mothers pushing forward for those kids. I sat down friends who are going through major illnesses. I sat down friends who are separating. In the end, there were about 20 of us.
When you put all the voices together, everyone [in the studio] would say, “How amazing this sounds.” It sounds mostly genuine and powerful.