By Dalia Acosta
HAVANA, Mar 2 2004 (IPS)

A middle-aged Cuban rock ‘n roll lover takes home the bronze statue of John Lennon that sits on a park bench in the Cuban capital, to make his biggest dream come true: to reunite his old amateur rock band and play for the former Beatle.

The incident isn’t real, of course, but comes from a scene in ‘El Concierto’ (The Concert), a new play by local playwright Ulises Rodríguez that has taken centre stage in the Cuban capital.

The play reflects on the impact that the censorship of Beatles music had on Cuban society, and on the personal hopes and dreams of rock ‘n roll fans, in the 1960s.

Focusing on the ban on listening to the British rock music group that revolutionised popular music around the world, ”Ulises tackles the deep impact that the atmosphere of prohibition and censorship had on the emotional lives of individuals, and even their family ties,” playwright and theatre critic Amado del Pino said in an interview with IPS.

The Beatles and their music were seen by the Cuban government as symbols of the ”imperialist ideology” shared by the enemies of the revolution led by Fidel Castro, in the first few years after its 1959 triumph.

The censorship continued until 1966, when a radio station broadcast for the first time a song by the legendary quartet made up of Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr.

But years went by before long-haired, jean-clad rock ‘n roll fans stopped being seen by many in Cuba as ”elements with serious ideological problems.”

”You can still run into an extremist functionary who, instead of caring whether you are a good or bad musician, forms an opinion of you based on your hairstyle and whether or not you wear tattoos. But luckily, there aren’t that many officials like that around anymore,” said Angel Fernández, the bass guitar player in a local rock band.

According to del Pino, ”above and beyond its passion for rock ‘n roll, ‘El Concierto’ gives us a glimpse into the private lives of young people who were previously censured and are now adults with their lives put together – or falling apart.”

One of the ”Cruzados”, the name given to the former members of the amateur Cuban band in the play, now makes a living selling pork meat, and not even his wife knows about his youthful musical aspirations.

Another ex-member of the band turned his back on rock ‘n roll and dedicated himself to musical genres that were more widely accepted in this socialist Caribbean island nation.

Yet another justifies the censorship as a legitimate response to the ”outside threats” that faced the revolution.

Several of the former band members recall one of their old professors, who criticised the Beatles but can now be seen heartily applauding in ceremonies paying homage to Lennon.

”Playing his music in front of the great Beatle (the statue) is a kind of salvation, a supreme act of spiritual healing,” says del Pino.

The scenography is made up largely of bicycle parts. ”The set seems to underscore how fast time has gone by, and creates a metaphorical relationship between the movement of the wheels and the record players of that period,” says the critic.

Lennon and the music he wrote in his post-Beatles solo career, which included ‘Imagine’ and other hit songs, have been a recurring feature on the Cuban arts scene since the early 1990s, when a group of musicians held a concert in his honour in the park where his statue now sits.

The impact of the Beatles music and the censorship on Cuban culture has been revisited again and again in seminars, concerts, literary works and songs.

The Beatles ”suffered incomprehension, but their artistic legacy was very strong, and prevailed over all prejudices,” said writer Francisco López Sacha during the inauguration of the statue of Lennon on Dec. 8, 2000, the 20th anniversary of his murder by a deranged fan in New York City.

The life-size statue was created by Cuban artist José Villa, who captured the image of the British singer-songwriter as his fans remember him: with long hair, jeans, boots and his trademark glasses, sitting on a bench rather than a marble pedestal.

On the night of Dec. 21, 2000, just two weeks after the statue was placed in the park, someone removed the glasses to take home as a souvenir, and the sculptor had to make a second pair. From that unusual act of vandalism emerged the idea for the play ‘El Concierto’.

Just five days after it opened on Jan. 17, Rodríguez’s play was awarded the Virgilio Piñera national prize, on the basis of the strength and richness of its characters and the emotional depth of its story line.

One of the most important prizes awarded on the local theatre scene, the Virgilio Piñera includes a cash payment of 3,000 dollars and the publication of the play.

”What seduced us was the approach, imbued with humanism, that the author takes to delve into the way intolerance of people’s dreams can stand in the way of personal realisation,” said playwright Gerardo Fulleda León, who directed the play.

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