Vivir Quintana on New Album of Corridos About Female Inmates

On her new album, Cosas Que Sorprenden A La Audiencia (Things That Surprise the Audience), Vivir Quintana uses the strength of her voice and the power of her words to tell real-life stories of women who were imprisoned after killing their abusers in self-defense. She does so through the corrido, a traditional Mexican genre often associated with glorifying violence and misogyny — but transforming it into a narrative of denunciation, dignity, and justice.

Told in the first person, Quintana’s sophomore LP is the result of a decade of research and collaboration with women who shared “their hearts, their homes, and their cells” to recount their stories and the reasons that led them to defend themselves against their abusers, ultimately losing their physical freedom after being accused of “excessive self-defense.”

“Fifteen years ago, a friend of mine was a victim of femicide, and it made me incredibly sad — I didn’t know who to blame or how to cope,” the Mexican singer-songwriter shares in an interview with Billboard Español. “For a long time, I kept thinking about what would have happened if my friend had killed her abuser instead of him killing her.”

Her friend’s femicide inspired her popular 2020 release “Canción Sin Miedo” (Song Without Fear), the powerful feminist anthem that accompanies marches and protests against gender violence in Mexico, as well as the fight of mothers searching for their missing children.

But in her album Cosas Que Sorprenden A La Audiencia, released last Thursday (April 24) on digital platforms, the artist, originally from the northern state of Coahuila, goes further by reflecting deeply on the causes of machista violence — the same that results in the killing of 10 women every day in Mexico for gender-based reasons, according to reports from UN Women.

Released under Universal Music, the album features 10 corridos, a genre that emerged during the Mexican Revolution (191–1917) as an alternative account to official history, according to experts consulted by Billboard Español.

With resonant guitar sounds and a powerful accordion, Quintana uses this musical style — characteristic of the region where she was born and raised — to tell stories like that of Yakiri Rubio, the protagonist of the song “La Nochebuena Más Triste” (The Saddest Christmas Eve). In 2013, Rubio was kidnapped by two men who took her to a hotel to sexually assault her, and she ended up killing one of her attackers in self-defense.

Another example is the corrido that opens the album, “Era Él o Era Yo” (It Was Him or Me), which narrates the story of Roxana Ruiz, who was sentenced to six years in prison for killing her attacker in 2021. “Files and more files/ With my name and the names of other women/ Who fiercely dodged death/ Justice destroyed our luck,” goes part of the lyrics.

The album also includes titles like “Mis Cuarenta” (My Forty), “Mi Casita” (My Little House), “Más Libre que en Casa” (Freer Than at Home), “Mi Cobija” (My Blanket), “Claro Que No” (Of Course Not), “Kilómetro seis” (Kilometer Six), “Al Tiro” (At the Ready), and “Cosas Que Sorprenden a la Audiencia,” the album’s title track, inspired by Marisol Villafaña, who was sentenced to 20 years in prison for defending herself against her abusive husband.

“That’s why the album is named this way,” Quintana explains, “because we’re so surprised when a woman defends herself, but we’re not surprised when a man receives an exemplary sentence for committing femicide.”

Recognized in 2024 as one of the Leading Ladies of Entertainment at the Latin Grammys, the 40-year-old artist is one of the new faces of corrido music in Mexico, although she has revolutionized the genre since her debut over a decade ago, by using music as a tool for activism and denunciation. In addition to “Canción Sin Miedo,” she is the author of “El Corrido de Milo Vela” (The Milo Vela Corrido), a tribute to journalist Miguel Ángel López, who was murdered in 2011 along with his wife and son in Veracruz. In 2024, she also wrote “Compañera Presidenta” (Madam President), a letter dedicated to the then-possible first female president of Mexico, a position now held by leftist Claudia Sheinbaum.

“With this album, I hope people open their hearts — but beyond that, I hope they open their minds to understand that gender violence needs to be addressed by all of us,” Quintana says. “And may we never forget that the voices of women deprived of their physical freedom also matter.”

Regarding the controversy surrounding corridos that glorify drug trafficking — subject to bans and restrictions in public spaces across ten Mexican states, though not officially prohibited by the federal government — Quintana believes that prohibition “is not the solution.”

“The children born into a world of organized crime, where their social context is that, where their family members are part of that life, and one day they realize they want to sing or play the guitar — what are they going to talk about?” Quintana questions. “Music is nothing more than a reflection of the reality or social context you live in, so narcocorridos should be regulated, but through education. That way, we can distinguish between reality and fiction, between good and bad.”