Voces: Letters to Eloisa

It is hard to understand why Hollywood’s radical chic was so enamored with the brutal dictator Fidel Castro. Not only did he regularly censor his own artists, he brutally oppressed Cuba’s gay and lesbian community for decades. The wrong sexuality could lead to arrest and internment in “re-education” camps (actually, the commentators in this PBS/ITVS production refer to them as “concentration camps”). That put a writer like Jose Lezama Lima doubly at risk. He was gay, Catholic, asthmatic, and aesthetically non-conformist. Lezama’s revolutionary work and tragic life are chronicled in Adriana Bosch’s Letters to Eloisa, which premieres this Friday on PBS, under the Voces imprimatur.

Although young Lezama was not political by nature, he still initially supported Castro’s revolution. In return, he was rewarded with publication support for his work. However, as the regime became more controlling, Lezama unambiguously aligned himself with dissident elements in the writers’ union that openly criticized censorship. As a result, he was already on thin ice when he published his masterpiece, the novel Paradiso.

Lezama’s friends and admirers liken its impact to the detonation of a “bomb.” Before its release, Castro thought it was too boring to require censorship, but he obviously did not get as far as the notorious chapter eight. Apparently, readers were requesting it in libraries, by chapter number, for its explicit homoerotic passages. Soon thereafter, Paradiso was officially censored by the regime and Lezama became a pariah. He largely survived thanks to the packages sent by his sister Eloisa living abroad.

Alfred Molina’s warm, sensitive readings of his letters to her help shape the structure of Bosch’s film and also supply its title. What unfolds is a tragedy, not just because of the hardship Lezama endured. When Paradiso released internationally, Lezama was considered an equal to the likes of Julio Cortazar and Gabriel Garcia Marquez, but he would be far less prolific, due to the stress of the state surveillance and the difficulties of his mean living conditions.

Prisoner of Conscience: Oscar’s Cuba

It is not hard to see why the Castro brothers fear Dr. Oscar Elías Biscet. A medical doctor with commanding leading man looks, Dr. Biscet has been a selfless and tireless champion of human rights in Cuba. In short, he is everything they are not, which would make him a formidable political rival if Cuba were a free democracy. Of course, this is not the case. Imprisoned for years, usually in solitary confinement, Dr. Biscet has become a unifying symbol of hope and non-violent resistance throughout the island gulag as director Jordan Allott documents in Oscar’s Cuba (trailer here), a selection of the 2011 John Paul II Film Festival, which has a special screening this coming Wednesday in Las Vegas at the Clark County Library Theatre.

When allowed her brief bi-monthly visit, Dr. Biscet’s wife Elsa Morejon always brings him toilet paper, because his Communist captors refuse to supply such everyday staples necessary for basic human dignity. This ritual encapsulates the essence of the Cuban regime. However, it has not broken Dr. Biscet’s spirit according to those who have met him in prison. No stranger to Castro’s dungeons, thirty-six days after serving a three year prison sentence, Biscet was swept up again in the notorious 2003 Black Spring round-up of seventy-five Cuban dissidents. To this day, he remains in a dark, confined, unsanitary cell.

Born shortly after the unsuccessful Bay of Pigs invasion, Biscet has lived his entire life under the Castro police state. Yet, the dissident doctor has always maintained a profound Christian faith. In fact, much of the pro-life Biscet’s activism began in protest of the Communist government’s policies of forced abortions and even infanticide of premature newborns to bolster their internationally vaunted infant mortality statistics. He would become Cuba’s leading advocate of democratic reform and a proponent of non-violence, often referencing the works of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Henry David Thoreau.

Though not able to talk to the man himself (for obvious reasons), Allott interviews many of Biscet’s former prison-mates and fellow human rights activists without the sanction or supervision of the Cuban regime. We also hear from former Cuban political prisoner and U.S. Ambassador (to the UN Commission on Human Rights) Armando Valladares, a figure well worthy of his own documentary.

While clearly produced to spur grassroots activism, Allott still earns props for his on-the-spot undercover reporting, capturing first-hand the unsavory realities of Cuban life, like Castro’s thuggish flash-mobs sent to intimidate dissidents and their families. Jazz and Afro-Cuban music lovers will also appreciate the original score composed by bandleader-defector Arturo Sandoval, Dizzy Gillespie’s close collaborator and heir as the king of the trumpet’s uppermost registers.

Far too much of Oscar’s Cuba will come as a revelation to general audiences who rely on the absentee media for international news. Highly informative, but also an inspiring portrait of one man’s faith, courage, and dignity in the face of oppression, Oscar’s Cuba was a truly fitting selection for the JP2FF. Recommended along with a prayer for Dr. Biscet and his colleagues, Oscar’s Cuba screens this coming Wednesday (3/2) in Vegas (details here).

The Music of Freedom in South Florida

Recently, Arturo Sandoval celebrated the one year anniversary of his South Florida jazz club, which has brought many of the real-deal top names in jazz to the area. Sandoval, whose defection from Cuba was dramatized in the HBO bio-pic For Love or Country, has risked much for the sake of artistic expression. Now he’s involved in free enterprise as well. Sandoval explains his motives for this venture in the September issue of Downbeat, telling Eliseo Cardona:

“It was simple: I wanted to become the first Cubanito to show how rich jazz is in the land of its birth . . . Growing up in Cuba, we couldn’t listen to jazz because this music was banned by the government. Castro thought it was counter-revolutionary. My mission was this: In the land of freedom, you have to play the music of freedom.”

Sandoval’s club has brought in a diverse roster of artists, including Ivan Lins, Jason Moran, Greg Osby, the Bad Plus, and John Scofield, as well as the trumpeter himself. Of course, opening a jazz club is a speculative venture, particularly so in Miami where jazz venues like MoJazz and Upstairs at the Van Dyke have closed in recent years. Downbeat’s piece is otherwise informative, but one would think they would include the club’s website for those interested in checking it out when in Miami.

Sandoval and his fellow defector and musical associate Paquito D’Rivera are well regarded in the Cuban-American and jazz communities. They harbor no illusions about the dictator of their homeland. D’Rivera has been particularly outspoken on the crimes perpetrated by the Castro regime. That’s why I have suggested voting for both artists in the Downbeat readers poll. There is still time for GOTV efforts (voting ends 8/31). You can vote here for Rivera in the clarinet and alto categories and Sandoval in the trumpet categories (clarinet via drop down menu, the alto and trumpet categories as write-in’s). Again, both artists are universally respected as musicians, so nobody would begrudge them their victories. They also understand only too well why jazz is the music of freedom, having been denied it by a bearded tyrant.

Annual D’Rivera Campaign

The critics have had their say in the Downbeat critics poll out now in the August issue. The rest of us civilians can still vote in the readers poll, which we can now do online—no more business reply ballots (but wait a minute, no paper trail?).

Like last year, I would recommend voting for Paquito D’Rivera in the clarinet category (you can write him in for alto too, if you’re so inclined), and Arturo Sandoval for trumpet. These would not be votes against another artist, but votes for acknowledged jazz giants. They also understand what freedom really means, having defected from Castro’s island gulag.

NEA Jazz Master D’Rivera has been particularly outspoken, taking clueless celebrities like Carlos Santana to task for their Che fetish. He also plays with an infectious sense of joy, clearly illustrating the close relationship between jazz and freedom. His autobiography, My Sax Life, is in many ways a love letter to the many musicians he has worked with, but also recounts the frightening reality of living under a dictatorial regime.

Sandoval’s defection is a story familiar to many thanks to the HBO film For Love or Country starring Andy Garcia. A trumpeter comfortable in the stratosphere, he was one of the last real protégés of Dizzy Gillespie, who helped facilitate his defection. Sandoval is also an entrepreneur, having opened a club in the Miami area. No jazz fan would begrudge him votes in the trumpet category.

It is a mistake to let mere political differences affect one’s aesthetic judgments. However, some readers here might take added motivation in the fact that the perennial clarinet winner, Don Byron, a legitimately talented musician, often infuses political commentary into his tunes like “Shelby Steele Would Be Mowing Your Lawn” and “The Importance of Being SHARPTON.” He has also been emphasizing tenor more over clarinet in recent years.

D’Rivera and Sandoval defected for freedom and artistic expression. As jazz listeners, we have benefited from their decision to make their home in America. To show some appreciation, do what Cubans can’t do: exercise your right to vote (click on “Vote!” icon on upper left of their homepage). Downbeat supplies drop-down menus for their anticipated top vote getters, which I have mixed feelings about. As readers, we do not have the “Rising Star” categories available in the critics poll. Don’t let that stop you from writing in less famous musicians. Feel free to scan the archives here for suggestions in various categories, and vote your conscience.

Idlewild

Idlewild
Directed By Bryan Barber
Universal Home Video

Wynton Marsalis’ new CD is featured in prominent stories in both Jazz Times and Downbeat this month, but is later panned in the review sections of both magazines. An attempt by Marsalis to rap on a track receives particular derision. It seems hip-hop and jazz fusions are reserved by critics for the downtown scene, rather than the more swing-oriented artists like Marsalis. Indeed, OutKast’s film debut, Idlewild, received a similar critical reception for its blending of hip-hop with elements of 1930’s swing.

OutKast released their CD of hip-hop tunes from and inspired by the film. However, a soundtrack album of John Debney’s orchestral score was announced from Varese Sarabande, but never released. That was a shame, since it featured trumpet solos from jazz musician and Cuban defector Arturo Sandoval, an entertaining musician in any context. It is hard dislike a film that gives credit trumpet solos in its opening title sequence, as Idlewild does.

For jazz listeners, Idlewild has some nice moments. Sandoval and Debney’s work is best heard over the opening montage of the young Percival and Rooster, growing up into their family businesses, undertaking and bootlegging, respectively. Also entertaining are the high energy dance numbers choreographed by Tony winner Hinton Battle, featuring Rooster, played by Antwan Andre “Big Boi” Patton. His rap delivered over big band swing inspired arrangements is clearly anachronistic, but kind of fun. Frankly, even the deleted song “The Clock” is a more worthy tune than this year’s bland Oscar winning song.

Idlewild is not perfect, but Barber’s flashy and colorful visuals keep things moving effectively. OutKast’s Patton and Andre “Andre 3000” Benjamin have decent screen presence, acquitting themselves well in their acting debuts. The screenplay could have used an additional revision or two, as there are several logical gaps in the storyline. Why Rooster’s club has to rely on bootleggers for booze in 1935, two years after the end of prohibition is never really explained—must have been a dry county.

It is not perfect, but based on Idlewild, it would be interesting to see another attempt at a musical film from Barber and company. Yet in Jazz Times’ 2006 “Year in Review” they dismiss the film as “some misguided amalgam of Moulin Rouge, Chicago, Kansas City and New Jack City. As jazz fans we’re disappointed, but as hip-hop heads we’re completely heartbroken.” Why the scorn? Marsalis might be a terrible rapper, but if OutKast takes inspiration from swing instead of more “left-of-center” jazz styles, so be it. Idlewild actually mixes swing attitude with hip-hop energy into an amalgam that is more fun than they generally received credit for.