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.

Returning to Cuba was like reuniting with an old friend. The humid air, long lines, and 50s automobiles puffing out smoke, while a nuisance by the end of my time there last winter, were a comfort. I easily made it to my homestay – the house of my “Cuban grandparents,” Angelita and Silvino – and settled in.

The first night, I was too exhausted to interview, but still went to Submarino Amarillo for their cover band (it was Saturday, and Saturdays are the best at Submarino). It was definitely different returning there alone, but it allowed me to take in many observations, both old and new.

It was 8:50 p.m. when the doors opened and we all flooded in, desperate to get a seat and out of a downpour outside. I looked around at my peers. The club doesn’t allow anyone under 18, but other than that, the audience spanned the full range of ages, from 18 to 88, I would say. One of the teenage girls I saw reminded me of the young Cubans of the Beatles’ time: short, purple-dyed hair, leather jacket, and band t-shirt (Red Hot Chili Peppers). I thought I perhaps recognized her – I recognized several people as regulars at Submarino last year. Clearly, the charm of the place doesn’t wear off easily. In fact, people even reserve tables up front or the cushy couches parallel to the stage. In no time, all the Cubans in the bar were taking group selfies and ordering full bottles of rum and cans of TuKola (essentially Coca-Cola), to make their own Cuba Libres.

By 8:58, the neon “Submarino Amarillo” sign illuminated the stage. It’s difficult to admire the great decorations in Submarino because it’s just like a submarine: dark, cold, and underground. However, I made out the familiar cut-outs of Blue Meanies and strawberries on the wall, as well as the lyrics from various songs. For the first hour, the music blared from a large screen that plays music videos, beginning with a video for the Beatles’ “You’re Going to Lose that Girl.” As I watched the following videos for songs by the Beatles, Bon Jovi, and Santana, I was reminded of another reason why the Beatles are popular in Cuba today: Cuban sentimentality and stubbornness. When you go to Cuba, it’s practically walking into the 1950s, just with cell phones. And the cell phones barely work on the practically non-existent WiFi. However, despite growing demand for modernization along with the rise of tourism, Cuba refuses to embrace any capitalistic tendencies. It will remain in the 50s for as long as it possibly can. So, popular songs and new trends are slow to arrive in Cuba and slow to depart. Top 40s songs that we Americans overplayed a year or two ago may be popular now and won’t leave for a while. Even in Submarino, the music videos played aren’t current; they’re from 2008 or earlier. I think that in a similar vein, though the Beatles’ music is older, it remains because it reminds Cubans of a different time, one they wish to cling to.

About an hour in, the room went darker and “Yellow Submarine” played, the cartoon movie on screen. The cover band for the evening, Aire Libre, was familiar to me; seven young musicians – a male and female singer, two male guitarists, a male bassist, a male drummer, and a female pianist. And they rocked. They played a full repertoire, with songs by Of Monsters and Men, the Beatles, Jesse McCartney, Amy Winehouse, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and several more. Their reggae rendition of R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion” was particularly good. Meanwhile, the Beatles songs they played – “Roll Over Beethoven” and “Come Together” – reminded me of my earlier musing on the emotion of the Beatles. Their songs are fun to sing, to play, and to listen to because you can really get passionate in the moment; it doesn’t matter your age. These young musicians certainly poured their heart and soul into the songs.

Something else, however obvious it may be, also showed me why the Beatles are popular in Cuba still: they bring families together. The middle-aged Cubans and the twenty-something Cubans in the bar aren’t ever unrelated; they’re parents and their kids. Parents who grew up listening to the Beatles, kids who grew up listening to their parents’ Beatles tapes. In Cuba, family is far more important than it seems to be in the U.S.;with a huge lack of housing, you’ll often find three generations of a family living under one roof. This necessity can only breed loyalty and respect for pastimes, including listening to the Beatles. My little epiphany would be further corroborated countless time in the following days.