They Said Her Music Was Too Exotic. Now She’s a Classical Star.

In a bustling public square in Mexico City on a summer day, as hummingbirds feasted on honeysuckle and candle sellers hawked remedies for broken hearts and anxious minds, the composer Gabriela Ortiz stood in the shadow of the San Juan Bautista church and closed her eyes.

Around her in Plaza Hidalgo in the Coyoacán neighborhood, there was cacophony. In one corner, a man in a beret cranked out a fun-house tune on a barrel organ. In another, two young men performed a song in son huasteco style, their falsetto voices rising above the lunchtime chatter. Near a park bench, a woman with long flaxen hair and a karaoke machine sang “Yesterday Once More” by the Carpenters: Every sha-la-la-la.

Ortiz, who grew up in Mexico City playing Haydn on the piano and Latin American folk music on the charango, a mandolinlike instrument, opened her eyes and smiled. Then, after offering a few pesos to the organist, she headed down a cobblestone street in search of a cappuccino.

“There is no quiet place in Mexico City,” she said. “Everyone has something to say. And music is how we say it.”

Ortiz, 59, who will be Carnegie Hall’s composer in residence this season, has spent her life channeling the sounds and sensibilities of Latin America into classical music. For most of the past 40 years, this has been a lonely pursuit. Teachers said her works were too exotic. Critics bristled at her sprawling sonorities. Top orchestras passed her over in doling out commissions.

But now, after a series of big breaks, Ortiz is thriving.