 My wife and I recently visited from Cuba. Because Cuba has been in the news lately, caught up in the slipstream of the US takeover in Venezuela. So I thought I'd share a little bit of our experience. I've been surprised how little people know of the situation there. But we've got a fair amount of drama right here. So that's understandable. People usually ask how we got there. American Airline flies there from Miami. You need to have a special visa. Usually, people go with a group and you need a legit reason. In our case, it was "In support of the Cuban people." We went as part of a tour group called Rhythm and Views, with the focal point being jazz performances by the Emmet Cohen Trio. They played one concert on their own - with special guests - at the Museo des Belles Artes in Havana. And they also played a live studio gig at Abdala studios, accompanied by the Havana Chamber Orchestra. In addition, we saw dance performances, we visited a pre-school as well as the home/studios of Cuban Artists. We had one amazing extending meal a day - lunch until the last day - at a private restaurant. After passing through the airport - which is basically just like any regional airport in the Western Hemisphere - you're spit out into the parking lot. You can grab a beer and admire a vintage car or two. First stop, was the Plaza de Revolution. There's a towering monument dedicated to Jose Marti, and two government buildings featuring steel facade portraits of the Cuban revolutionaries Che Guevara and Camilo Cienfuegos.  Pictured here, one of the lovingly restored cars of Havana. In the background, the Ministry of Information with a portrait of Camila Cienfuegos and the words "Vas Bien, Fidel." Which means roughly, "You're doing fine, Fidel." Cienfuegos was one of Fidel's fellow revolutionary bros, and the famous quote was friendly encouragement during one of Fidel's first speeches as a nervous young idealist who just took over the country. The irony of course is as thick as black crude petroleum. After la Plaza de Revolution, it was lunch time. Our first lunch was at La Guarida, the first of a series of memorable meals at a Paladar, a privately owned restaurant in Cuba. Because of governmental control, these privately owned restaurants need to be in someone's home. The building, like 90% of the buildings, is falling apart. Anything that predates the revolution in Havana has not been kept up. This crumbling chaos is a combination of ornamental beauty, very shabby chic, and a wrenching, monumental sense of sadness. One images what it was like to live among the ruins of Rome after the fall. It's like that. People making do, amongst the ruins of a collapsed civilization. And there are two ruins going on. One physical, living amidst the ruins of brat-pack era excess, when Havana was everything Las Vegas and Atlantic City wanted to be, with better music and warmer, more beautiful people. And the specter of hope that haunts them, the optimism of the opening of relations and the promise of commerce in 2015. I heard stories of the what it felt like to have Obama address the Cuban nation as a whole in March of 2016. And we passed by the stadium where the Rolling Stones played to 500,000 people, five days later, on Good Friday of 2016. How a million Canadian tourists flooded the country, and more from France, Switzerland, Germany, England and South America.  The stairs at the entry way of La Guarida. Climbing two flights builds up an appetite for one of Havana's internationally renowned restaurants. After lunch, we went to the hotel and before checking in, we had a welcome drink, and an impromptu short nap while listening to a lecture on Cuban-American relations from a former diplomat. The MaxGPT summary. Basically, the reason Trump reinstated the embargo is a) Florida is a swing state, and they need to give the GOP base what they want. b) Marco Rubio is the de facto head of this Coalition of Ultra-Rich & conservative anti-Castro Cubano interests 3) I would never underestimate DJT's potential for spite and resentment, especially when it comes to any Obama initiative. We hit the gym and then went to the Cananonazo Ceremony, the 300 year old ceremony that marks the closing of the city gates. Basically, it was cosplay for some young cuban boys, who get to dress up like Spanish soldiers, march around, sing songs, swing flaming torches and eventually shoot a cannon. Really fun. The next day I got up wayyyy too early, walked to the Capitolio and then along the Havana waterfront as the sun came up. They call this road that runs along the water The Malecon - it's also known as the world's longest Sofa. It's where Havana meets to socialize, enjoy the night breeze, kindle romance. But at 5 a.m. on a Thursday during an oil embargo, there were a few fishermen - that's it. On one side, the ocean. On the other, the occasional sculpture, interspersed with ruins. It looks bombed out, but the only enemies are the tropical humidity, hurricanes and most of all, neglect. the second day was a very full schedule. We visited a pre-school run by some Catholic Nuns. The Lizt Alfonzo Dance Academy. The young dancers were so incredibly joyful, a counterpoint to the political brinksmanship. I couldn't stop crying and hoped no one noticed. After another extended lunch at Michifu, where we were serenaded by a a capella group, e went to another Music Academy later and that night Emmet Cohen and his trio played a gig with some local musicians at the Museo de Belles Artes. Each of these experiences and moments is worth a post, or chapter, or podcast on its own. Day 3 - Tracey and I ran five miles along the Malecon and back. Good news, Tracey did not break her ankle and we are still married. We went as far as the American embassy, and then turned back, ending our run at the Capitolio. You'll note that the Cuban capitol building has a strong resemblance to the American capitol, though it has a slightly more svelt silhouette. Also, the gold plating was a gift from Vladimir Putin. So far, he hasn't gold plated our Capitol. Yet. Signs of the inter-relatedness of the US and Cuba are everywhere. The vibe is like two family members that have an argument and won't talk to each other. Next to the embassy is a very striking sculpture with a single dove, it seems waiting for another dove to come and renew the friendship. When viewed from a specific angle, it looks as if the dove is sitting on the edge of the embassy. Apparently it was built when some cuban refugees made their escape to Miami - the mother died, and only a baby boy made it. There was a big controversy over whether the boy would be returned to his father in Cuba, or would stay with relatives in the U.S. He was returned to Cuba, and grew up to be a not great guy, apparently. There are no black and white issues with U.S. Cuban relations, only gray. If there's any reductive arithmetic about it all, it goes something like this: M (Men) + P(Power) = MP (Misery for the People). The rest of day three - we saw Flamenco Dancing, with the Cuban Ballet - the company just returned from a 20 city tour in China. The Flamenco Dancing was incredibly energetic. I had no idea that boxes and a flamenco dancer's shoes could be as rhythmic as a drum line. Lunch was at Candela, and I bought a little wooden car out front and had a conversation with a old lady who did not like Trump. I told her, in my limited Spanish that nuestro gente tiene un gran corazón para el cubano, and she smiled broadly. But opinion is split. Another street philosopher we met told us that there are two embargoes - the one imposed by the US, and the one imposed by the Cuban government - which is much, much worse. I don't doubt that. We had a musical double feature that night. A concert with the Havana Chamber Orchestra - candlelit, because the power went out. Then we had dinner and music at a newer club called Cha Cha Cha, on the road facing the harbor. The food was great, and the musicians were young and adventurous. Day 4 was Valentine's Day. It was a day full of art. We took a guided tour of the hotel Cohiba, which was filled with a selection of Art and then we visited three local artists at their home/studios. After the Hotel Cohiba - which had seriously elegant all-inclusive-resort vibes - the first stop was the home of Remberto Ramirez. He worked with triangles a lot - as you can see below – because he and his wife had triplets. We had a little connection about that. He has three boys, they are all award-winning ballet dancers, presently living and dancing with ballet companies in the states. One is with the Santa Monica Ballet; another is in Columbus, Ohio. And the third one is in Atlanta. You can see some of his work, and some of his family life and boys dancing on instagram, here. Below is a selection from the gallery at the Hotel Cohiba, which was an excellent survey of current Cuba art. Here a few from the homes we visited. The most famous artist, judging from his body of work and online presence, was Moises Finale. He struck me as sort of a Cuban Picasso, in terms of output and variations on a theme. Also, with the African influence, reminding me a little bit of the sculptor Chaim Gross. And again, extremely prolific. Some guys are like that - painting is like a jazz solo for them. They're just tapped into the mother-vein and jamming. Such a privilege, and so inspiring to be invited into these people's homes. They take away isn't just that these people know how to paint, or sculpt or make jewelry - they know how to live.
That night, we went to a rooftop bar and enjoyed some local music. The personalities were big and welcoming, and we were spoon fed Tango, Salsa, Rhumba and El Manisero. We took a cab at the end of the night. When we asked about the others in our group, the cab driver told us he was low on cabs because of the fuel shortage. No one was playing "Party liked it's 1999" - but that was the vibe. A creeping thought began to settle in - would we get out? After all, we are American nationals and it was our government that was causing the issues. But enough about that. There was music to be enjoyed. For our final day, we had a live from the studio event, with the Emmet Cohen Trio and the Havana Chamber Orchestra. In honor of the upcoming 100th birthday of both John Coltrane and Miles Davis, they played a version of My Favorite Things - the strings were spot on - and finished with an original composition from Emmet, which was, one part Gershwin and another part Bop. I can't say enough about Emmet Cohen and his trio. Drummer Joe Farnsworth and the bass player, Reuben Rogers. The these guys are a class act, and not afraid to share their time with the people who joined the tour. I'm not going to go deep on the bios - feel free to peruse their websites, which I've linked here - but Emmet is not only an extraordinary piano player, he's a generous and compelling ambassador for the art form. He invites legends with reverence, and inspires the youth with his easy presence. Reuben is at the elite level of bass playing where any choice he makes, is interesting. For example, when they trio played My Favorite Things with the Havana Chamber Orchestra, it's like - Ohhhh. That's how Reuben does it. And it joins the pantheon. And as for Joe Farnsworth, the guy has a motor. He's the classic Jazz drummer, never leaving that high hat alone for too long, and when he's done blowing your mind, he runs 7 miles back to the hotel. True story. We all waved to him from the bus. Extraordinary people. And every musical event was one part performance, and one part family reunion, with local musicians called in to add vocals, trumpet and share Emmet's keys. Our last dinner was at Le Atelier, a classy joint. The evening broke out in dancing and Joe jamming on the bongoes. One person on our tour said, that if I went to Cuba and didn't dance, I wouldn't feel right. And we danced, right up to the end of times. ********* We left the hotel for our departure flight at 8 a.m. Our flight was scheduled for just before 10. We eventually left just before two in the afternoon. So I had a little time to reflect in the airport. On the political front, I don’t think I have any new conclusions. People have been traveling to and from Cuba fairly regularly for the last ten years or so. Longer, if you're Canadian. So there's no big revelations there. It’s more like, things just went from 2D to 3D. I had an outline, and now it’s colored in. I understand that the regime is repressive and absolutely not admirable. What's admirable is the people, and how they deal with it. I also understand that there is a bunch of offshore money waiting for it to topple, tear down everything, and build golf courses, casinos and night clubs. If the US doesn't do it, the Mexican Cartels will. Or the Chinese. Or the Russians. It could be that what is going on is simply further destabilizing, and opening up the country to foreign interests. I do know that there are people that would welcome American influence and even a takeover with open arms. But I have sense that gang that Marco Rubio represents doesn't have the people's interest in mind. But then, how can it get any worse? It's just a damn shame that it's always the everyday people that suffer. Here's what I brought back with me. One, an appreciation of the Cuban people. Their joy. Their dark humor. Secondly, an appreciation of jazz. Third, even though we weren't gone that long, I have a renewed appreciation of our abundance. After partying in a city under siege, I gotta say I like the easy life. In Cuba, they don't have Zoom meetings, 7-11, plumbing that tolerates any kind of paper, ATMs, Arugula, Starbucks, McDonalds, Costco, CVS or weed dispensaries. As I sit here, snowed in by a blizzard, I think wow, I'm low on one of the three kinds of milk I keep in the fridge and I can't get to the store. That's the way we are in America. We can't go to the store for a day, and we stock up for a month. But what if there were no stores? That's the way they live in Cuba. The opening of trade started to change that, but now with the oil embargo, it's worse than ever. As we left, the county had five days of a fuel left. That was six days ago. I guess the people will hunker down. And the garbage will keep piling up. If you believe in such things, take a moment to say a prayer for the people of Cuba. A place of music, and creativity and indomitable spirit - no matter who thinks they're in charge. I heard it said that Cuban people are like a dolphin. Even though the water is right up to their neck, they're still smiling. No matter what the future holds, I can't wait to go back.
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Bean, a Creative Director in our Montclair office, doing some creative directoring.
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