A Raspberry for His Lies
By José Dos Santos
From Granma, September 25, 2009
When trumpet player Alexander Abreu showed his skills at the closing of the Peace without Borders Concert in Havana’s Revolution Square, to many of us, he confirmed that in Cuba there are performers as good as, or better, than some who never stop lying in order to win extra musical leads.
Who is the repressed one?
Cuban TV showed the retrograde reactions about the Concert from some characters, among them one who preferred to take shelter under the wing of the imperial bird of prey and renege a privileged place in his land, trading the warmth that his people had for him, for the tinsel that Miami had to offer — as long as he played their reactionary ideological score.
The admiration felt in Cuba for Arturo Sandoval and his music was transformed into disappointment because of his defection some years ago, and later became repudiation because of his lies and servitude.
That same man that complained on Miami TV about the “repression” he suffered in Cuba because of his love for jazz, does a somersault in time. It has never been denied — and it has been part of the revolutionary rectifying process, that during a short time of erroneous measures, narrow conceptions were applied in some cultural fields. But saying that someone was arrested and jailed because of a musical preference is not an extemporaneous overstatement — it is a downright lie.
In his heartrending complaints against the international concert, Sandoval does not mention that in Cuba he was an outstanding member of the Irakere band, that he formed his own group later and had his own spot at the Karl Marx Theatre. He also traveled all over the world and on several occasions he organized the Jazz Plaza Festival. He tends to forget that in his comfortable home in Havana, he welcomed important guests from all walks of life, not only from culture, that at the time that foreign currency was not allowed in Cuba, he bought freely at the dollar store on Fifth Ave. and 42. And no one bothered him.
I regret the spinning and opportunistic memory of this character, with whom I was close in a period of my journalistic life for I am a jazz fan. This “repressed” man apparently has forgotten that he was a member (as well as his wife) of the Cuban Communist Party, a condition only acquired with a voluntary dedication and commitment to society.
He not only ran out of fuel for simulation when he decided to defect in a tour through Italy as part of the United Nations Orchestra led by Dizzy Gillespie, also a victim of his deceit and manipulation.
He also collaborated in a media campaign, with him as the centerpiece, when elements that have not been identified — FBI? CIA? — took him to Miami at the same time that his wife and son were transported from London, where he was expected to perform at the Ronnie Scott’s Club, and there staged a sorry anti Cuban show.
This was the same musician who played the U.S. and Cuban national anthems in front of the house where the child Eliàn González was held kidnapped in Miami.
We could mention many more things, but he is not worth it — his four Grammys included. Among the many graphic jewels that I have, there are historical ones that the “repressed” Sandoval himself gave me, for he was present at a meeting in Havana between Dizzy Gillespie and Fidel Castro. Has he mentioned that episode to the benefactors of his lies?
