My original project proposal: 

How can something continually influence a culture it directly contradicts? Last year, I was privileged to study Spanish in Cuba with Colorado College. I immediately became immersed in the lively culture – claves reverberating through streets, passionate salsa dancers in the clubs, and street artists displaying works of beauty and depth. One aspect of the culture that I truly did not expect to encounter, however, was that of American rock and roll. Cubans deeply resent the embargo the United States placed on their country in 1958, as it strangled Cuba’s access to resources. Virtually anything having to do with the United States can breed animosity or mockery among Cubans, but rock and roll stands apart. More importantly, the Beatles stand apart.

Just six blocks from my homestay, my roommate and I discovered a place like no other – “Submarino Amarillo,” (“Yellow Submarine”) – an underground, Beatles-themed bar. While the exterior of the bar was enough to make us, diehard Beatles fans, drool, the inside offered an even more incredible sight: middle-aged Cubans absolutely jamming to American rock and roll music, from Bon Jovi to Bruno Mars. Just next door to the bar lies John Lennon Park, complete with a bandstand modeled after that of Sergeant Pepper’s and a statue of Lennon seated on a bench. (The statue even has a pair of glasses that a designated park caretaker ensures is not stolen.) As we wandered the streets during our two months, paintings of Lennon also pervaded: some of Lennon alone, others juxtaposed with Cuban rebel Che Guevara.

I became fascinated by this Beatles culture. When the Beatles first emerged in Cuba in 1964, the Communist Party had been in power for just five years. Rock and roll had had a presence in Cuba since the early 1950s, from the strong media infrastructure – radio, film, newspaper, and television. About 90% of Cubans owned radios. To the youth, this media infrastructure represented liberation, non-conformity, and modernity, but to the elderly, it represented leanings toward US capitalism, decadence, and unlimited power. However, the elderly could not deny that media was attracting tourists, in addition to the casinos, hotels, and cabarets, all places that promoted American music. Frank Sinatra, Duke Ellington, and Nat King Cole were headlining in Cuban venues and American rock and roll dominated Cuban theatres. A Beatles cover band from 1965 to 1970, Los Pacíficos, also formed. Dressing like the Beatles and wearing similar hairstyles, the band adapted songs based on equipment available and performed in various locations in Havana: Teatro Musical, Teatro Universitario, and Teatro Martí (Valdes 128, in Los Beatles en Cuba). They eventually performed in the Anfiteatro de Marianao, a venue holding 5,000 listeners (Hernandez and Garofalo). In 1971, Cubans heard the Beatles over the airwaves for the first time (Volkert).

When the Revolution succeeded, Fidel Castro began consolidating private enterprise, taking control over the media. Soon, rock and roll became an enemy of the state, as the English lyrics and individualistic styles (long hair, bell-bottoms, miniskirts), contradicted Communist values (Volkert). Young boys particularly wanted to look like the Beatles, donning long hair, many rings, short petticoats, tight jeans and leather jackets (Soneira de Asprer 122-123, in Los Beatles en Cuba). Though these rock and roll supporters were now considered state enemies, however, many were also the young rebels themselves, who had fought to establish the new government. They argued that the long hair and jean jackets mirrored the style of Che and Fidel when they left the mountains to take control of Havana. Still, Castro feared their “American” spirit, and anxiety and suppression remained among Cuban rock and roll fans; in 1964, he banned all Beatles music, declaring it “mindless, vulgar consumerism” (Volkert, Morton). (Whether or not the Beatles, or rock and roll in general, were banned is still hotly debated.) In protest, Cubans would smuggle in tapes of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” (Morton). Beatles tapes were distributed underground and Cubans tuned into rock and roll channels in secret. 

Despite the government’s fear and repression of rock and roll, the Beatles presence remains in Cuba today, at least in Havana. Twenty years after “banning” Beatles music, for example, Fidel opened Parque John Lennon and changed his tune, saying: “What makes him [Lennon] great in my eyes is his thinking, his ideas,” he said. “I share his dreams completely. I too am a dreamer who has seen his dreams turn into reality” (Morton). In 1996, the Unión de Escritores y Artistas Cubanos held a colloquium for the Beatles specifically (Hernandez and Garofalo). And of course, as I saw myself, the image of the Beatles is not uncommon throughout the city. My project aims to examine this presence and how it has evolved. The Beatles in the 1960s represented rebellion, which corresponded to the Revolution, but also clashed with the regime it established. But what do they represent to Cubans today? To the youth, who did not participate in the Revolution, and to the elderly, who did? My goal is to talk to Cubans of all ages and learn what the Beatles means to them, why they think the Beatles are still relevant, and how they believe the meaning of the Beatles has changed throughout time.

As mentioned in my proposal, in 1996, the Cuban Writers and Artists’ Union in Havana held a Beatles colloquium. Though the event coordinator, Ernesto Juan Castellanos, was unable to get the most prominent figures to come (Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, George Martin, Yoko Ono), many writers and affiliates of the Beatles either sent or brought information to share. Presenters gave lectures and speeches, read essays, and discussed various ways the Beatles made themselves known on an island where rock and roll was practically illegal. Castellanos took all of these talks and essays and organized them into a book, written in Spanish, The Beatles in Cuba: A Magical Mystery Tour. This book was an enormous aid for me. From it, I gleaned many reasons why the Beatles were able to rise to great popularity in Havana – reasons I could then reject or corroborate through interviewing Cubans themselves.

The following is what I gained from the colloquium contributors, all within the book.

Much of the Beatles’ success in Cuba stemmed from the times. In America, pacifist ideology (“make love, not war”) and the hippie movement were emerging. With this, there came a confluence of philosophy, society, and politics in which youth were actively participating (Montiel 19). This, I believe, appealed to the young Cuban rebels, victorious and determined to continue shaping society according to their beliefs. Thus, it seemed natural for them to adopt the same image and ideals as the Beatles. This meant embracing a new style of music, a new way of dressing, and a new way of styling one’s hair (Salgado Chirino 23). After Batista’s repressive regime, one could surmise that the liberating notions of psychedelia, freer sexuality, and new food habits (vegetarianism, veganism, etc.) were refreshing to young Cuban society – even if they weren’t refreshing to Fidel (Salgado Chirino 25).

For Cubans, knowing the Beatles meant more than knowing their songs and story; it meant knowing the slander against them (Yoss 133). Their music was in English, which made them exotic and mysterious and rebellious, given the Cuban government’s restrictions (Yoss 134). Moreover, they started an exhilarating underground movement that promoted a culture of love – love for each other, love for knowledge, and love for knowing about the world beyond the little crocodile-shaped island (Sainz Blanco 138-141). This rebelliousness alone was enough to attract the attention of Cubans.

However, it wasn’t just about what the Beatles represented; it was their music, of course. It was a style of music that united people of different cultures, races, and countries (Lam 29). In fact, the Beatles embraced marginalized styles and instruments, allowing them to adapt to all musical influences (Lam 33-34). Therefore, their music could relate to Cubans, who themselves had a rich musical context stemming from Caribbean, indigenous, and European roots. Two aspects of the Beatles’ music I think particularly lent themselves to Cuban support: the advanced use of the drum kit and their strong use of emotion (Lam 35-36). As I learned when I studied Cuban music last winter, rhythm is critical; there are at least 27 distinct Cuban rhythms, all used regularly in traditional and improvisational ways. As for the emotion, I remember entering a design shop in Old Havana. On many of the prints, magnets, notebooks, and t-shirts, there was a small heart logo – a heart that appeared to be dripping, pouring out of its outline. The shopkeeper explained to me that in Cuba, there is so much love, emotion, and passion; therefore, it cannot be confined to the traditional sense of love. I think one could say the same of the Beatles. Last but not least, contributor Eduardo del Llano mentions how the Beatles had a distinct of humor in their songs, using nonsense words and sounds (44-45). Cubans also are very playful people and probably enjoyed this new silly style, unlikely heard in Cuba prior to the Beatles.

One contributor to the colloquium, Mario Masvidal Saavedra, points to the “economic thinking” of the Beatles as a factor influencing their popularity in Cuba. Songs like “A Hard Day’s Night,” “Can’t Buy Me Love,” and “Taxman,” all criticize the emphasis of money, instead encouraging hard work and devotion (39-41). In a Communist society, I can only imagine that Cubans would support this disparaging of monetary greed. Cubans pride themselves on being able to “resolver,” or resolve, the hardships they endure: food, housing, electricity shortages, for example. Life in Cuba is hard, but Cubans rely on each other to feel happy and secure, regardless. The Beatles’ music simply supplemented their community support. 

In this sense, the Beatles encouraged the strong social scene in Cuba. By the end of the 60s, recitals of popular songs became common in theaters and small venues, eventually expanding to stadiums and open plazas (Nicola 68). They brought Cubans together and were an inspiration to all sorts of artists (Rodriguez 92). The art culture, as I witnessed, is undeniable in Cuba. Between the music, dance, sculpture, and two-dimensional art, there is no limit to what has been and will be produced in Cuba. At the same time that the Beatles released With the Beatles and Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Cuba had the birth and development of nueva trova, a surge of Latin American folk groups, and the diversification of rock and roll (hard rock, jazz rock, etc) (Vilar 115). More recently, the Beatles actually inspired Cuban salseros to create a “Tropical Tribute” to the Beatles (Padron Nodarse 104). In this tribute, Cuban – and more broadly, Caribbean – rhythms are incorporated into about a dozen Beatles songs. The salsas emerges, the clave reverberates, and you can hear the cha-cha-cha stomping through “And I Love Her” and “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da.” “Hey Jude” now has a rumba; “A Hard Day’s Night,” a montuno (Padron Nodarse 107).

The Beatles are iconic for a reason; they have affected cultures, ideas, and norms worldwide. In Cuba, as in many places, they stood for freedom and individuality, adaptability, and inspiration. What’s incredible is that they were able to still have this effect, from one island to another, under such repressive conditions. But as my project will hopefully illuminate, perhaps even more impressive is that this effect remains.

I tried to make this project as flexible as possible, but with clear goals in mind. Therefore, I made a list of the places I wanted to see and to go and a list of questions to ask people. However, that’s about as far as I could get, organizationally. Accessing information about establishments – their hours, who works there, if the establishment is still open or even exists – can be impossible in Cuba. So I wasn’t going to force it. Similarly, Cubans are very gregarious people; you never know where a conversation may end up with them. Therefore, I came up with the following questions merely as a reference, a basis to start conversation, allowing my interviews more freedom.

• First: Do you know anything about the history of the Beatles in Cuba? Or rock and roll in Cuba, in general?

• Do you think there is a Beatles presence in Havana today? What type of presence is it?

• Do the Beatles have a special significance to you? What is it?

• Have the Beatles influenced the musical culture here? How?

• Has the influence, presence, or representation of the Beatles changed over the years? In what ways?

Most of the time, the interviews went off track from these questions, but you can still catch them here and there. I just had to start with something.

The first person I spoke to in this project was my host mom, Angelita. I simply asked her what she knew of the Beatles during the 60s. She explained that unfortunately, she knows little; at that time, her father had sent her and the family outside of the city to protect them. She assured me, however, that younger Cubans would certainly talk to me about it. While there was a lot of censorship and ultimately the prohibition of rock and roll, Cuba was and remains “un mundo de arte,” an art world. Middle-aged Cubans lived this world of art; listening to the Beatles was practically a part of their education, though self-taught. “La historia no se puede borrar,” – “The history [of the Beatles in Cuba] cannot be erased,” she explained. When Parque John Lennon was created, Cubans weren’t opposed. Angelita noted that you can’t deny how bueníssimo the Beatles’ music is, and she’s glad that Cubans of all ages now can freely enjoy it. She believes that the Beatles are still important in Cuba because they speak to the reality of life during the 60s – a reality that “no se puede ocultar,” or cannot be hidden. I particularly like how she used “ocultar,” a verb meaning “kept out of sight” or “disguised.”

Excited by this interview alone, I set out to Parque John Lennon. When I arrived, I quickly spotted the caretaker of the park, meandering with the statue glasses in hand and a badge around her neck. I approached and introduced myself, explaining the project. She seemed genuinely happy to talk, and even brought me over to a bench and demanded I sit down to take notes.

She’s worked at this park for 9 years. She and other park caretakers rotate throughout the city. At age 73, she’s seen how the place has grown and developed. Really, the park was established in honor of Fernando Suarez Nuñez, founder of the Association of Youth Hope of the Fraternity. When John Lennon was murdered, Cuban musician Silvio Rodríguez talked with Fidel Castro in order to create a commemoration to him in the park. Castro was persuaded by Rodriguez’s explanation that Lennon had similar ideals to Fidel – he was an advocate for peace, not war. Thus, the statue was placed in the park and eventually the Italian restaurant on the corner became “Submarino Amarillo.” The story behind the glasses is an interesting one. Initially, the glasses, like the statue, were made of bronze. One day, someone decided to steal them, and you can see little divots on Lennon’s nose where they were. Though the caretaker only makes about 10 dollars a month (less than half the average Cuban salary), she managed to obtain new glasses, with the correct round style, from New York. The artist, José Villa Soberón, had holes made in the temples of the statue and the caretaker has since adjusted the glasses to fit on Lennon’s face. She safeguards them all day long, only placing them on the statue if requested by tourists for pictures.

The caretaker explained that the turn of the century marked the rise in the activity of Beatles fans; the music lives on today because, as Angelita said, it’s simply very good music, and as I suspected, it has been inherited by the youth. Her favorite Beatles’ song is “Imagine,” and the lyrics in Spanish are engraved by the statue.

Out of questions, I thanked her profusely. In typical Cuban fashion, she decided to help further my pursuits by directing me to a shop across the street, also called “Imagine,” which I had never noticed before. There, I was greeted by the owner, who warmly agreed to speak with me as well. Like Angelita, she said that the people who know most about the subject are the youth of that era. It’s clear to her, however, that the Beatles resonate – and still do – with Cubans because of Lennon’s ideas in particular. He was a revolutionary, progressive, and envisioned a better world. Since then, she said, people have exaggerated that image of him. He and the Beatles now stand for that entire era: daily life, music, and ideas. People would connect cables that would span blocks just to hear the Beatles on the radio, she informed me. This secrecy was a beauty of the Beatles unto itself. You can still see the respect Cubans have for Lennon on the anniversary of his murder, December 8^th, when they come to the park dressed in Beatles-esque pullovers and place flowers on the statue.

Within her shop, she had the usual souvenirs you find around Havana, but many more Beatles paraphernalia. I mentioned how I’ve seen posters with Che Guevara and Lennon juxtaposed. I asked if the comparison was their revolutionary personas and ideas. Yes, she said, but more. Both of them “hablaba y hacía” – in other words, talked the talk and walked the walk. They were sincere, direct, and had a strong work ethic.

As for the presence of the Beatles today – it’s the youth and the parents listening to the music in their homes. She naturally likes the Beatles; she was amazed when her she heard her 20-year-old son listening to them, too. Time and time again, the Beatles bring people together.

Like the caretaker, her favorite Beatles’ song is “Imagine.”