Many of you will recognize the striking young man seated on the left in this photo. It is none other than Mr. Babalú himself, Miguelito Valdez. The photo was taken in 1943 at a popular Miami nightspot called Club Bali, which was located on Biscayne Boulevard and 8th street. You can read more about the photo and Miguelito here.
Looking at this photograph I began to imagine what it was like to live in Cuba during those times dancing and listening to all those legendary artists that entertained the island and the entire world. From Miguelito himself to Pérez Prado, Machito, Cachao, Arsenio Rodríguez, Beny More, La Sonora Matancera and Celia Cruz, and countless other legends. They were on the cutting edge of their art and they gave the world a glimpse of what Cuba was all about.
The infamous revolution, however, had different plans for Cuba’s rich musical legacy. They replaced these greats with insipid automatons like Silvio Rodriguez and Pablito Milanes. The illegitimate offspring of a bloodthirsty movement and music, they called themselves La Nueva Trova, the New Song. These replacements sang songs extolling the virtues of a murderous dictatorship and in return they were rewarded with perks and living arrangements normally reserved for the elite members of the regime. They were artists in name only for they betrayed their art when they sold themselves to the regime for a few luxuries.
I have no doubt that the Cuban musical spirit still exists—as strong as ever—hidden in the crumbling houses and tenements throughout Cuba. Some of them, like Porno para Ricardo, have even dared to express their art freely, paying a heavy price for their transgression against the regime. But we will never know how much talent and culture exists in Cuba today until the island is free once again, as it was during the days of the greats.
Without freedom, you cannot have music. And without music, life becomes a dreary exercise that drains away a man’s innate desire to create. But that is what the revolution wanted all along.
Boy, Miguelito’s date is a BABE!
Yes she is. I believe her name was/is Vera. But I wouldn’t have expected Miguelito to be dining with anything less!
That was my reaction! Judging by the hottie to his left, looks like Miguelito was doing pretty well for himself.
Plenty of Cuba’s stars “stayed home,” as you put it. And their art suffered and was compromised after the revolution for they no longer lived in a society where they could play and sing whatever they wanted. Whatever show they put on, had to be approved by the state. That is not freedom.
And it’s funny you compare Milanes and Rodriguez with Dylan, Coltrane, REM, etc. All of those artists you mentioned would have been jailed in Cuba for their subversive music. Milanes and Rodriguez, on the other hand, were and are good little revolutionaries that do and sing as their told.
Oh yeah, now that I think about it, I remember how castro hosted all those raucous rock acts in Cuba during the sixties. I remember how the Beatles played in the Plaza de la Revolucion. Oh, and how Jim Morrison dedicated “Light my Fire” to Vilma Espin at the Doors concert in Havana.
I remember seeing them play concerts in Cuba and wondering why their music was banned by the revolution and why owning one of their records was a crime.
Your comparisons so far have been quite pathetic.
I have listened to Rodriguez and Milanes, and I never questioned their talent or musical ability. What I question is their integrity. And to me an artist without integrity is not an artist–he/she is just a tool.
Why is it relevant globally? Well, why is Paris Hilton relevant globally? Because she is incredibly talented? Don’t confuse spectacle with art.
Chispa:
You are wrong.
In fact, everything you have said has been wrong.
If you enjoy music written and performed by tools of a dictatorship, go ahead and listen to it. Because it lacks integrity doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad music.
But please, stop with the moronic comparisons.
So you are saying that someone like John Lennon (“Imagine”) would not have found an artistic place in Cuba?
Are you saying that Cuni’s art suffered after 1959?
Are you saying that Ibrahim Ferrer was a better vocalist before 1959?
Are you saying that the Munequitas de Matanzas ceased being relevant after being given more public exposure vis-a-vis funding for more diverse artistic genres?
Is that what you are saying?
Art without artistic freedom is not art; it is propaganda. Propaganda can be attractive, can sound spectacular, it can even be moving. But, it is still propaganda.
None of the Cuban artists you mention had or have the artistic freedom to create whatever they want. The state decides what they can and cannot sing. Therefore, regardless of how great a song may be, or how great a voice may sound, it is ultimately an expression of the state, not the artist.
Now you can try to draw parallels between this complete and total control over an artist’s expression and the commercial music business in the US all you want, but no one knows better than you that such a comparison is totally idiotic. Especially since no one in the US has ever been arrested for performing a song that is critical of the government.
Like I said to you before, if you like to listen to these slaves of the Cuban regime and have no qualms with the fact that the music you are listening to had to be first approved by the state’s censors, go ahead. Se te puede salir la babita to your heart’s content.
Hey, why arrest someone when you can ruin their careers through other, more subtle means.
*waving at Dixie Chicks*
Incarcerating an artist for speaking out the government only creates cause celebres.
By the way, name three artists of merit that have been jailed in Cuba for going against the censorship grain.
The last sentence of your comment, Chispa, lo dice todo! Not that I had any doubt where your loyalties laid. Next you’re going to tell me there are no political prisoners in Cuba.
This discussion is over because I cannot have a debate with a dishonest person, such as yourself. It does, however, explain your affinity for dishonest musicians.
Have a wonderful and fruitful life in the belly of the imperialist beast.