It’s a Friday night in 1957. Young Elena Durán sits beside her grandmother at the Star Theatre in West Oakland, California, watching a Mexican film. It’s a ritual the two ladies share regularly, but tonight is different. Before the feature, a newsreel shows Pedro Infante’s funeral in Mexico City, held after the beloved singer and movie star died in a plane crash. According to Elena’s memory of the evening, the entire cinema is in tears.
Her grandmother, Soledad, left Aguascalientes for the United States, but her love for Mexico never faded. So she took her granddaughter, born in East Oakland to Mexican-American parents, to the movies. It was here that Mexican Golden Age film stars and music — from ranchera to corridos — would shape Elena’s life path.
For the next 60 years, the talented musician would explore prestigious concert halls, famous palaces and high-security prisons, finally stopping for good in the country her grandmother yearned for. Here is the story of Elena Durán, one of the world’s most respected flautists.
The classical years
When Elena was just seven years old, a school music teacher, Frank Ono, passed her in the corridor and said, “You’ve got great lips for the flute!” That was all it took, and she immediately asked her parents for one. At eight, her wish came true — she received a flute for Christmas.
Shortly after, her father took her to meet George Koregelos, who eventually opened House of Woodwinds in Oakland. Elena spent countless hours in the shop, meeting famous woodwind players who all made it a point to see George when they were in the Bay Area.
At eighteen, Elena took her first private lesson. She then enrolled at Mills College, but after just one year, she was offered a lecturer position at Stanford University. Once she had two teaching years under her belt, Elena took the leap and moved to Europe to study with some of the greatest flute players of all time: Jean‑Pierre Rampal, Aurèle Nicolet and James Galway.
She remembers in a rare moment of doubt, Rampal reassured her: “Your path is going to be very different, but you will be able to do it.” As Elena would state during our interview, “You can’t get through life without people who believe in you.”
Rampal’s belief in her led to great things.
Elena would go on to perform multiple times for the British Royal Family, including Queen Elizabeth II. She performed with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Albert Hall in London. In 1984, Paul McCartney saw her on British television and called personally to collaborate. The result was “We All Stand Together,” a song which reached No. 3 on the U.K. Singles Chart. She recorded Bach with jazz violinist Stéphane Grappelli, Mozart with the Royal Philharmonic, and was the first to record Claude Bolling’s “California Suite” at Abbey Road Studios.
Through it all, Elena’s philosophy remained — and continues to remain — simple: “It should be fun. Be really enthusiastic about what you do. Don’t overteach, and don’t overthink. Approach it with trust, knowing something positive will come.” This motto taught her to “change with the changes” and never take no for an answer.
By any measure, Elena Durán had “made it.” So why, in the 1990s, did she leave it all behind for Mexico?
The return
Elena and Michael, her husband and manager, moved to Mexico for what was supposed to be one year. They stayed for several. The 1995 peso crisis forced them to leave, albeit temporarily. The pair returned in the early 2000s, and this time Elena was ready to fully embrace her grandmother’s legacy.
In 2000, she released “Nostalgia for Mexico,” her first Mexican recording — a selection of salon music featuring composers like Manuel M. Ponce. Instead of replacing those magical Mexican voices from her childhood, Elena chose to honor them with her flute. Michael explains: “When another singer sings Esperón or Jiménez songs, it’s never as good as the original. But on the flute, it reawakens the memory without challenging the original.”
Those Friday nights at the Star Cinema were no longer just memories.
“I’m kind of living the part of the Mexican dream that my grandmother had,” Elena says. “She went to America but never forgot Mexico, never became Americanized. I’m lucky that I can live in both worlds.”
Validation
One evening at a reception for Manuel Esperón — composer of “Amorcito corazón” and “¡Ay, Jalisco, no te rajes!” — Elena played several of his songs. The next Saturday morning, her doorbell rang. It was Esperón himself, 97 years old, asking if she would play more of his music.
Between 2006 and 2008, Duran performed at several men’s prisons in Mexico and in the U.S. with her initiative, Flautas Sin Fronteras. This is a recording of her performing at a men’s prison in Mexico City.
For the next two years until his passing, they worked together. He wrote “Blues Maldad” specifically for her, a concert piece showcasing the jazz and blues influence he loved but rarely explored. Then Rubén Fuentes — the arranger behind José Alfredo Jiménez’s most famous rancheras, including “Amanecí en tus brazos” — asked if she would do the same for his music.
The validation from Mexico’s greatest composers led to a commission from Naxos International: “The Mexican Songbook,” six recordings preserving the work of Esperón, Jiménez, Fuentes, Armando Manzanero, Manuel M. Ponce and Agustín Lara. She’d played for royalty, but this — the blessing of the composers whose songs her grandmother loved — was all the validation she needed.
From concert halls to prisons
Elena wasn’t content playing only for those who could afford concert tickets. For the last 25 years, she has devoted her energy to Flauta Sin Fronteras, taking music to prisons, border communities and homeless populations in Mexico and the U.S. She has received two humanitarian awards: from Catholic Charities of San Diego for her work with homeless women, and from Casa Familiar in San Ysidro for her work along the border.
“You have to take people as you find them,” says Elena about working in prisons. “You can’t go in there and judge. The goal is to have some sort of emotional contact with them and not to judge the experience they’re living through.”
After every concert, she doesn’t join the warden for coffee; she goes straight into the audience to greet every single attendee.
Coming full circle to Mexico
At a concert in Laredo for “Pedro Mi Amor,” a tribute to Pedro Infante, she arrived to see a man waiting for her with chocolates and flowers. Elena recognized him immediately: Emilio Girón Fernández, the child actor who played El Torito — Pedro Infante’s beloved son — in the films “Nosotros los Pobres” (We, the Poor) and “Ustedes los Ricos” (You, the Rich), the same actor she’d watched as a child with her grandmother. She introduced him to the eager audience, bringing Pedro Infante’s films to life.
As Mexico City’s official tourism and cultural ambassador, Elena plays in the Zócalo on Christmas Eve for those who have nowhere else to go.
“There are a lot of people who have nothing,” she says. “Maybe I can give them something.”
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Elena maintains deep ties to her grandmother’s family in Aguascalientes.
“I have a very big Mexican family there. My grandmother was a key pillar in my young world.”
She still loves the Pedro Infante films they watched together — “the epic quality, the black-and-white, the music.”
Michael observes the contrast: “It’s great if she’s playing in Berlin or the Royal Albert Hall in London, but to play in the Zócalo or a park — I see that as the beginning.”
Soledad gave her granddaughter a creative foundation through movies and music at the Star Cinema. Today, Elena brings them home to Mexico.
Watch Elena Durán perform live with Edgar Ibarra on piano at the Residence of the British Ambassador on Feb. 17, 2026, at 6:30 p.m. The performance is hosted by Amistad Británico‑Mexicana, a charitable foundation supporting education and health projects like Elena’s Flauta Sin Fronteras.
Email Susana Duncan at susana.duncan@amistadbritanicomexicana.org to reserve your seat. A 1,000-peso donation is suggested.
Bethany Platanella is a travel planner and lifestyle writer based in Mexico City. She lives for the dopamine hit that comes directly after booking a plane ticket, exploring local markets, practicing yoga and munching on fresh tortillas. Sign up to receive her Sunday Love Letters to your inbox, peruse her blog or follow her on Instagram.
