A NIGHT WITH ENRIQUE IGLESIAS

Viva Enrique!

SEVILLE, SPAIN, 7 P.M. The 300 or so girls standing outside the five-star Hotel Tryp Colón hover around a bronzed, beautifully sculpted young man in second-skin pants and a sequined top as he makes his way from a Mercedez Benz to the hotel’s revolving door. Once he steps inside, the girls quickly reclaim their positions and reload their cameras. Their encounter with Francisco Rivera Ordoñez, one of Spain’s most cherished (and hot!) bullfighters, was just a bonus for their patience. The real object of their obsession is running three hours late.

When Enrique Iglesias, 24, finally steps out of the hotel onto the sidewalk, it’s clear the crowd bears no grudge. With genuine enthusiasm and charm, the six-foot-two Spanish pop star takes a full 20 minutes to kiss girls, smile for snapshots, chat one-on-one with fans and tell young women how beautiful they are. His manager must physically pull him into the car, where a driver waits to shuttle Enrique to Hispanidad ‘99, a yearly TV special televised to more than 50 million people around the globe. “I love my fans,” says the son of Julio Iglesias, the world’s former premier Spanish-language singer, en route to the live broadcast. “I love meeting people. Good people. Nice people.” Later, when he walks through the audience while performing his international hit, “Bailamos,” those good, nice people attack him like vultures. They all want a piece of him, but Enrique thinks it’s a hoot that he-- who popularized the male mole-- is considered a sex symbol. “It’s stupid,” the singer says nonchalantly. “For me, it’s all about the music.”

Enrique Iglesias was born on May 8, 1975, in Madrid, to the Spanish crooner your mom adored, and Spain’s famed socialite Isabel Preysler. When he was eight, Enrique’s parents split and his mother relocated him, his brother, Julio, Jr., and his sister, Chabeli to Miami. “I don’t remember them fighting,” Enrique says of his parents’ relationship, “but, then, my father was always away [on tour]. Anyway, I’d rather have my parents divorced and happy than together and miserable.” Shy Enrique retreated to his room during his teen years and secretly poured himself into writing songs. “I didn’t really share what I was writing with anyone at the time,” he recalls. “I would write about whatever was going on in my life-- love, sadness, stress-- and I would put these little phrases to melodies. But I never told my parents because, you know how you tell them you want to be something, like an astronaut, and they’re like, ‘Yes, son, now eat your green beans.’” Not that they weren’t supportive when the truth came out. “When I was 19, I left college and moved to Los Angeles to focus on music. It was difficult at the time, but both my mom and dad-- as well as my brother and sister-- were excited for me.”

Because Spanish was spoken in his home and in his Miami neighborhood, Enrique gravitated toward his native tongue. He landed a record deal with the Spanish-language label Fonovisa in 1995; released his first album, Enrique Iglesias; and, in what he says felt like overnight, sold seven million records worldwide. He reentered the studio to record Vivir, which went on to sell five million copies in 1997, then 1998’s Cosas del Amor, which has sold more than two million copies. On top of those accomplishments, Enrique took home the 1996 Grammy for Best Latin Pop Performance (the same award that made Ricky Martin a household name). By early 1999, Enrique had sold more than 13 million albums and was the brightest star in the Latin-music constellation. Still, among Anglo-Americans he was a virtual unknown.

Then came last summer’s “Bailamos,” the infectious English dance mix with the Spanish title that claimed the number-one spot in 16 countries, and, in November, his first English-language album, Enrique. “Singing in English was a natural transition for me, and it offered me a new challenge,” Enrique says backstage at Hispanidad ‘99, where his two songs bookend performances by Mariah Carey, Christina Aguilera, Columbian pop star Shakira and Puerto Rican heartthrob Chayanne. (“The producers were afraid that viewers would switch channels after I sang to watch the soccer game instead,” he explains of his split performance, “so they had me break up my set into two halves.”) About the English-speaking fans who recently discovered him, Enrique says, “I already had my fan base. I didn’t care about making the Anglo-Americans fall in love with me.” Intentionally or not, he captured their hearts and is even stealing the wind from the sales of Latin dish du jour, Ricky Martin.

As Enrique courses through the main vein of American culture, for now, anyway, he goes it alone. “I’ve been in love one and a half times, and I’ve had my heart broken many, many times. But I don’t like to talk about thay stuff,” he says. “When I do settle down, though, I want to be with a girl who has a great smile, a great sense of humor and a strong, independent streak.”

By 5:30 A.M., Enrique has long since left the show, eaten tapas with friends and watched as local grandpas serenaded him with ancient folk tunes. Though he’s barely fatigued, Enrique is ready to call it a night. “The biggest misconception about this job is that people think it’s easy,” he says, a hint of drowsiness creeping into voice. “But it’s a lot of hard work.”