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    Vicente Fernández Knew His Way Around Your Broken Heart

    First breakups. Final goodbyes. For generations, Mr. Fernández, who died on Sunday, provided a soundtrack for moments of anguish and heartache, and a pathway to healing.After four years of dating, this is what it came to for Art Castillo: sitting alone in his blue truck in Waco, Texas, listening to his girlfriend on speaker. Long distance wasn’t working, she told him. She had found another man. The relationship was over.“I hanged up and put Vicente Fernández on,” said Mr. Castillo, 30. He played “La Cruz de Tu Olvido,” in which Mr. Fernández bellows, “As I looked at the evil in your eyes, I understood that you have never loved me.” He played it louder, again and again, until he was done crying.“With his songs,” Mr. Castillo said, “you just feel it inside you.”For generations, Mr. Fernández’s often sorrowful songs have served as a balm for the heartbroken. Over a career that spanned six decades, Mr. Fernández, the Mexican ranchera superstar who died on Sunday at 81, recorded hundreds of songs and dozens of albums, singing of unrequited love, scornful partners and tarnished romance.In that time, Mr. Fernández, known to millions as Chente, became a beacon for the brokenhearted, a man to listen to when love has gone awry and all you want — besides, perhaps, some tequila — are plucky guitars, harmonized horns and someone to give voice to your most intimate feelings.“For a lot of people with Mexican descent, his voice is home,” said Rachel Yvonne Cruz, a professor of Mexican American studies and a music specialist at the University of Texas at San Antonio.That explains why so many people, mostly Latinos, turn to him when they are down, she said.“When Vicente Fernández sang, he expressed all of those emotions that we keep held inside: that silent cry, that silent scream that’s happening when you’re heartbroken, when you just cannot anymore,” Dr. Cruz said. “And when you listened to him, you were able to have that release that you needed.”Who broke Mr. Fernández’s heart? That remains a playful mystery among his fans. He married María del Refugio Abarca Villaseñor when he was in his early 20s, and the two stayed together until his death.But however and whenever his heartbreak occurred, his fans say, his anguish came through in his lyrics.Tu boca, tu ojos y tu peloLos llevo en mi mente, noche y día“Your mouth, your eyes and your hair, I carry them in my mind, night and day,” Mr. Fernández sings in “Las Llaves de Mi Alma.”Por tu maldito amorNo puedo terminar con tantas penas“Because of your damn love, I can’t bring an end to so much shame,” he roars in “Por Tu Maldito Amor.”En un marco, pondré tu retratoY en mi mano, otra copa de vino“In a frame, I will put your portrait, and in my hand, another glass of wine,” he croons in “Tu Camino y el Mío.”That was the song that helped Fernanda Aguilera.“I had been with someone since, I guess, high school, and then you think, ‘Well, this is going to be my person,’” said Ms. Aguilera, 27, of San Antonio. But when college came and they went their separate ways, she realized that the relationship “was just an illusion in my head.”She played “Tu Camino y el Mío” (“Your Road and Mine”), and recalled thinking: “This is exactly how I feel, but I could just never find the words. And it’s like he put the words together for me.”On a cool March night in Oxnard, Calif., a brokenhearted Jaime Tapia grabbed some beers, invited a friend to his house and put on a Vicente Fernández playlist. Mr. Tapia was 19. He and his girlfriend of four years had decided to cut off their relationship earlier that night.Mirroring the way Mr. Fernández had dealt with heartache in the movies (mostly with alcohol, a somber stare into the middle distance and buddies who reassure him he will be OK), Mr. Tapia and his friend kept the beers coming as they sat on the hoods of their cars.“Just dozing off, looking at the stars,” he said. He was lonely and drunk for the first time in his life.“A lot of the songs that Chente talks about are about breakups, being in a cantina, stuff like that,” Mr. Tapia said. “So even though you feel sad at the time, you felt good that you were bonding with a buddy and that you weren’t by yourself.”Ranchera music “can be thought of as a sung exposition of one’s most honest emotions,” said Mónica Fogelquist, a professor of practice in mariachi and ethnomusicology at the University of Texas at Austin.“In Mexican culture, men are supposed to be strong, valiant, proud and void of any sentiment,” she said. “They don’t cry, and they don’t express vulnerability, including heartache. However, through music, all the unexpressed or prohibited emotions are free to come out.”People have used Chente’s romantic tunes to try to win back an estranged partner through serenatas, a musical message of love delivered by a mariachi band in front of a lover’s window — a tradition that Mr. Fernández popularized in films.“It’s pretty popular; we’ve been hired a couple times to help win that person back,” said Giovanni Garcia, who manages the band Mariachi Estrellas de Chicago. He added, “There’s been a couple of times where they’ll tell us, ‘Oh, I’m in the doghouse right now and hoping this will help me.’”Sometimes it works, he said. Often, it doesn’t — even if the band plays one of Mr. Fernández’s songs.Someone tried it on Laura Figueroa once. It did not end well.A mariachi band knocked on her door in Chicago. Her little brother let them inside, and the musicians marched through the kitchen and into her bedroom. She was 22 at the time.“I’m sitting there looking down at the floor like, ‘Oh my God, there’s literally a mariachi in my house,’” said Ms. Figueroa, now 39. She does not believe the band played Chente, and in any event she did not take her former lover back.Jesus Gutierrez, 37, of Chicago said his father used to sing “Hermoso Cariño” (“Beautiful Darling”) by Mr. Fernández to his mother, Juana, when they were dating in Guanajuato, Mexico. She used to be embarrassed when telling the story, Mr. Gutierrez said, because his father, Nicolas, was “not a good singer.”But perhaps it worked, he said, because they married, had children and listened to ranchera music together for decades. She saved nearly all of her Chente vinyl records and screamed every word of his heartbreaking songs at his concerts, her son recalled.In 2019, Juana Gutierrez died, and Chente’s songs came to represent a new type of heartbreak for Mr. Gutierrez. He said he couldn’t play some of his mother’s favorites anymore because “it’s too much.”But on Sunday, when he heard Mr. Fernández had died, he knew right away how he would spend his evening: the same way he and so many others had gotten through their first breakups and final goodbyes.He scrolled through his playlist until he found “Hermoso Cariño.”Precioso regaloDel cielo ha llegadoY que me ha colmado de dicha y amor“Precious gift, from heaven it has come,” Mr. Fernández sang. “And that has filled me with happiness and love.” More

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    Modern Love Season 2: An Interview with Mary Elizabeth Williams

    When Mary Elizabeth Williams got back together with her husband, she didn’t expect a cancer diagnosis — or for her story to inspire a television episode.In her 2014 Modern Love essay, “A Second Embrace, With Hearts and Eyes Open,” the writer Mary Elizabeth Williams tells the story of rekindling her marriage only to find out, shortly thereafter, that she had malignant melanoma. Suddenly, their future looked very different from their past.Miya Lee and I recently caught up with four writers whose essays inspired episodes in the second season of the “Modern Love” television series on Amazon Prime Video. Below is my conversation with Ms. Williams, whose episode stars Sophie Okonedo and Tobias Menzies. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.You can also read my interview with writer, actor and director Andrew Rannells (“During a Night of Casual Sex, Urgent Messages Go Unanswered”) and Miya Lee’s interviews with Katie Heaney (“Am I Gay or Straight? Maybe This Fun Quiz Will Tell Me”) and Amanda Gefter (“The Night Girl Finds a Day Boy”).Daniel Jones: Your essay was published seven years ago, and it was about events that took place years before that. Can you catch us up on where you are now with your marriage, your health and your family?Mary Elizabeth Williams: My husband and I are still together. One of our daughters is in high school and the other is in college. Like everyone else, we’re just coming out of a long period of enforced closeness in a small New York City apartment where one person is working in one space, one person is working a few feet away, someone else is doing band practice and someone else is doing college work. It was all chaotic.Over the past few years, we’ve had a lot of challenges and sorrows and difficult experiences involving our health and work and the health of loved ones. And it’s funny, because in the midst of feeling trapped over the past year, I still wake up in the morning and choose to be here with this person. Those moments of looking at someone and thinking, “Yeah, I’m here voluntarily” — maybe that’s not the sexiest thing to think about someone, but I also feel like it’s probably the most important.How does it feel to write about something so personal, even as a writer?The day I got my cancer diagnosis, I told very few people, and I even said to my husband, “I don’t think I’m going to share this because I don’t want it to change how people see me. That’s a bell I won’t be able to unring.”The next day I went to Sloan Kettering, and that night I wrote an essay called “My Cancer Diagnosis” that was published in the morning. So less than 48 hours after I got diagnosed, I published my first essay about having cancer. Clearly, I don’t know how to not talk about my life.What kind of cancer did you have?Metastatic melanoma. Melanoma is a cancer of the skin, which is very common. Metastatic melanoma is not. That’s when the cancer has moved into your organs. And the thing about melanin is you have it everywhere, so the cancer can go everywhere. When you get it, it can be rapidly fatal. Typically, at the point I got it, you had about seven months to live. My cancer had moved into my lungs and soft tissue. You could see it on my body.How was it treated?First I had surgery. That was before it had spread. I had a big circle taken off the top of my head. Then, a year later, I had a recurrence, and by then the cancer was spreading everywhere and moving really fast. That was the point when my oncologist said, “We’re recruiting for a clinical trial. You should talk to the people on the clinical trial floor.”They had just approved the first immunotherapy treatment for melanoma in over 30 years. To get accepted, I had to pass a bunch of tests; it’s really hard getting into clinical trials. It shouldn’t be. But I was fit and had a flexible schedule and met all of the requirements — you have to be sick but otherwise fit and not have done any other treatments. So I got into the trial, and I felt it working after the first treatment. I was cancer free the first time I got scans, 12 weeks later. And I’ve been cancer free for nine years.In talking about your successful experience with the clinical trial, do you worry about giving people false hope?I’m glad you brought that up. I am extremely aware that I am unusual. And I never want to give people false hope. I want them to have hope and to know there are options. But also, hope can be for different things, whether it’s in your relationship or your health, and sometimes you’re hoping for just a little more time. It’s like I always say: The mortality rate for being a human being is 100 percent. If you’re lucky, you can postpone that so you get more good stuff. And I hope you get to get more good stuff with the people you love and give them good memories and leave something better than you started it.What was the impact of publishing your essay in Modern Love?I got messages from so many people I hadn’t heard from in years, who didn’t know about the breakup, didn’t know I had been sick, didn’t know any of it, and were like, wow, you’ve really been through it. And then there was the response from readers who saw different parts of themselves — in the relationship, but particularly in the sickness, in that story of cancer. People seeing a love story of sickness that wasn’t gooey and sentimental.You and your husband never divorced; you separated. Did that make stepping back into the marriage easier?I guess if you look at it as stepping back, but I don’t. I look at it as stepping forward. That relationship ended. And what came next was different and new. For me, it was important to feel like I wasn’t going backward. This was about moving forward, about being in a different place in life and having different expectations and understanding and respect.I wanted to tell a story that was about the kind of tender and unique love you see when things are awful. Unsexy situations like when he has to go out and buy you stool softeners. That’s a unique kind of romance. I hope that for men who read it, they were able to see themselves — and see that being caring and nurturing and capable is the most loving gesture in the world.Daniel Jones is the editor of Modern Love. Mary Elizabeth Williams is the author of “A Series of Catastrophes and Miracles: A True Story of Love, Science, and Cancer” and a doctoral student of medical humanities at Drew University.Modern Love can be reached at modernlove@nytimes.com.To find previous Modern Love essays, Tiny Love Stories and podcast episodes, visit our archive.Want more from Modern Love? Watch the TV series; sign up for the newsletter; or listen to the podcast on iTunes, Spotify or Google Play. We also have swag at the NYT Store and two books, “Modern Love: True Stories of Love, Loss, and Redemption” and “Tiny Love Stories: True Tales of Love in 100 Words or Less.” More

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    Modern Love Season 2: An Interview with Andrew Rannells

    Four years ago, Andrew Rannells published his side of a hookup gone wrong in Modern Love. Now, as a director, he explores the same story from both characters’ perspectives.In his 2017 Modern Love essay, “During a Night of Casual Sex, Urgent Messages Go Unanswered,” the writer, actor and director Andrew Rannells recounts a second date that took a tragic turn when he learned that his father had collapsed and was in a coma. He died a few days later.Miya Lee and I recently caught up with four writers whose essays inspired episodes in the second season of “Modern Love” on Prime Video. Below is my conversation with Mr. Rannells, who directed the episode based on his story. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.You can also read my interview with Mary Elizabeth Williams (“A Second Embrace, With Hearts and Eyes Open”) and Miya Lee’s interviews with Katie Heaney (“Am I Gay or Straight? Maybe This Fun Quiz Will Tell Me”) and Amanda Gefter (“The Night Girl Finds a Day Boy”).Daniel Jones: You directed your own story, from a Modern Love essay you wrote about your father dying when you were 22. What were you trying to capture in that story?Andrew Rannells: Well, it was an unexpected, traumatic event that happened at an unexpected time with a super unexpected person, and that’s just the way life works sometimes.I was on a first date with this guy I didn’t know very well. I wasn’t sure how much I liked him, but I was 22 and trying to date. I ended up having sex with him, and as soon as we finished, I looked at my phone and there were all these messages from my family that my father was in a coma and had had a heart attack. He was going to die. I had to take in that information with this stranger. And it put a lot into perspective about what I wanted and who I wanted to spend my time with, and to trust my gut. If you’re saying to yourself, “I don’t really want to have sex with this guy,” then you probably shouldn’t.And yes, I felt panicked and upset that night, but I didn’t treat my date very well. This episode was an opportunity for me to imagine what his version of that night was.This was your first time directing. Did you ever think, “What am I doing?”Yeah, there were definitely times. We had prepped everything to shoot in March 2020, and obviously that didn’t happen because everything was shut down. So I had an obscene amount of prep time, and by the time by the time September rolled around, I was so ready. Also I got to cast some of my friends, so I knew that even if things started to go bad, I could just look at them and say: “Do something to fix it!”People may not realize that the whole season was shot during the pandemic, which meant all kinds of restrictions and concerns — masks, protocols, tests.Shields, eyeglasses.I’m sure all of that made directing and acting harder, but did it also create unexpected opportunities?I think the biggest one is rather than shooting in Manhattan, we shot in Schenectady, N.Y., because it was easier to control. And the directors of other episodes went up there early. Because everyone had to be in Schenectady quarantining in our hotels, we were there for much longer than we would have been had this been an episode that was shot in New York. We were all together for about 10 days, plus the quarantine time.A lot of the cast were theater actors, so there was a summer stock feel to it, eating every meal together, and it brought us all very close, very quickly.What was your hardest moment during the week?This is going to sound really annoying, but it was just a joy the entire time. We were all so happy to be working. There was obviously some anxiety the day before we started. The first episode that filmed had shut down for two days over a false positive test, and I thought, “God, this is going to be such a disaster.”The delays kept pushing the start date of my episode, and I was in this hotel in Schenectady thinking, “What are we doing? What’s happening?”Were there benefits to shooting in Schenectady?Yeah, I thought the town was great and everyone was so excited to have us there. After doing “Girls” for six years, which we shot in New York, I got used to people getting impatient with us on the street. We’d be filming and they’d be saying, “I’m just trying to get home.” And we’d say, “Please, we just have one more line to do.”What do you hope people will take away from your episode?That you have to forgive your younger self for mistakes you might have made. For a long time, it was really painful for me to think about that night — about my dad dying and how I behaved. I didn’t know how to handle it. And looking back on it now, at 42, I think: Well, of course you didn’t know how to handle it. There’s a lot that went wrong that evening, but it took me a long time to be able to forgive myself.Daniel Jones is the editor of Modern Love. Andrew Rannells is an actor, director and author of the memoir “Too Much Is Not Enough.” His essay appears in “Modern Love: True Stories of Love, Loss and Redemption.”Modern Love can be reached at modernlove@nytimes.com.To find previous Modern Love essays, Tiny Love Stories and podcast episodes, visit our archive.Want more from Modern Love? Watch the TV series; sign up for the newsletter; or listen to the podcast on iTunes, Spotify or Google Play. We also have swag at the NYT Store and two books, “Modern Love: True Stories of Love, Loss, and Redemption” and “Tiny Love Stories: True Tales of Love in 100 Words or Less.” More