After September 11 and the ensuing ‘war on terror’, the United States and many of its Western allies went into lockdown. In the name of national security, the ability to enter and exit these countries was restricted. Enhanced border protection and new visa requirements made it tougher for tourists, workers and aspiring immigrants to get in the front door, let alone put their feet up for a while.
An increasing number of examples reveal artists caught in the queue – individuals and companies refused seemingly legitimate entry to a nation, despite their capacity to fuel an economy or bridge cultural barriers.
The phenomenon isn’t new. As journalist Jane Chapman observes: “During the Cold War, immigration law allowed the government to deny visas to artists and scholars it saw as representing a danger to national security because of their political views. Among those denied visas to the United States during this period: Pierre Elliott Trudeau, who later became Canada’s prime minister; British novelist Graham Greene; and Colombian novelist and Nobel Laureate Gabriel García Marquéz.”
Nor was it especially easy for artists to tour pre 9/11; the process still involved often prohibitive fees, long waits for paperwork and occasional racial profiling. Internationally acclaimed Iranian film-maker Jafar Panahi believes he was a victim of the latter when he passed through New York’s JFK airport in transit, six months prior to the World Trade Center attacks. Allegedly giving nationality as their rationale, officials detained Panahi to obtain his fingerprints, then held him handcuffed for several hours. The director recalled his ordeal in an impassioned letter to the National Board of Review of Motion Pictures: “I just wanted to stand up and cry that I’m not a thief! I’m not a murderer! I’m not a drug dealer! I…I am just an Iranian, a filmmaker.”
Artists’ long association with voices of dissent makes them an ideal target for a post 9/11 empowered border patrol, fixed on rooting out the ‘terrorist’ element. The result, accomplished artisans and entertainers are redressed as gypsies for the new millennium – strangers whose exotic tastes and talents appeal, but whose wicked ways might corrupt the natives if let loose.
In 2002, organisers of the World Festival of Sacred Music in Los Angeles had a devil of a time getting the show on. A Syrian ensemble of dancers had their visas delayed, a Canadian singer of Palestinian descent was denied entry to the US altogether, as were Cudamani, a 30-member Indonesian gamelan ensemble. Festival director Judy Mitoma noted the changes since the inaugural World Festival of Sacred Music in 1999. “We were at that time full of hope,” she said. “Now look at us. The world is different. How hard it is to bear the reality of that. It’s like a loss of innocence.”
And how about the innocence of UK teenager Bridget Mbabazi, a poet and survivor of the Rwandan genocide currently fighting for the right to perform in a US poetry slam she was invited to attend.
The US maintains a terrorism ‘watch list’ that includes Cuba, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Algeria, Morocco and Sudan. Artists who hail from these regions are foremost on the hit-list when it comes to the politics of touring. Cuba, who has a complicated history with the US, is a particular target. Over 150 artists have been denied access to audiences since 2004. The roll-call includes the Afro-Cuban All Stars (one of Cuba’s most famous musical acts); Cuban-Haitian group Desandan; Cuban jazz pianist Chucho Valdes; Ibrahim Ferrer of Buena Vista Social Club fame; Guillermo Gonzalez Camejo; Carlos Varela; and Cuban director Humberto Solas. Sylvia Perel, director of a San Francisco Latino Film Festival had to cancel a programmed tribute to Solas after he was turned away. “Our capacity to bring culture to this country has been diminished,” she told the press.
Varela, a singer-songwriter, accuses the US of inventing new excuses to legislate for old fears. “They want to look for ghosts where they don’t exist,” he said. “Cuban and American musicians can accomplish what politicians have failed to do over many years.”
While racial typing appears to be an factor, the problem isn’t confined to regions on the US ‘watch list’. In March this year, Manchester’s Halle Orchestra (the UK’s oldest symphony) had to ditch plans for its US tour because of visa demands that included £45,000 in fees and a trip to the US embassy in London (185 miles away) where each traveler would be interviewed and fingerprinted. The Berlin-based Artemis Quartet had to cancel its U.S. tour after authorities learned its cellist had stolen a pair of tweezers in his youth. And the list goes on.
In April 2006, celebrated cellist and arts ambassador Yo-Yo Ma joined representatives from the education and business sectors to testify at a hearing on the impact of new visa regulations. “While very few Americans have the opportunity to travel to rural India, and even fewer to rural Kyrgyzstan, the arts allow everyone to catch a glimpse into these other worlds through their music, their dance and their art,” Ma told lawmakers. “Encouraging artists and institutions to foster these artistic exchanges — bringing foreign musicians to this country and sending our performers to visit them — is crucial. But the high financial cost and the lengthy timeline make these programs difficult to execute and to maintain.”
Scott Southard, president of International Music Network, agress with Ma, and says long term ramifications are unavoidable: “The impact of this crisis will show up two to three years from now. This crisis will have a long-term impact on the music world and cultural exchange marketplace.”
In an effort to cut through the red tape, two US organizations – the American Symphony Orchestra League and the Association of Performing Arts Presenters – teamed up to create www.artistsfromabroad.org, an online guide for foreign artists, companies and their promoters.
“Art is cultural diplomacy,” says APAP President Sandra Gibson. “And it’s just as important as it was during the cold war. It’s as important as when [pianist] Van Cliburn went to the Soviet Union to perform and changed Khrushchev’s mind about the United States.”
Arguably the biggest losers are American audiences and artists. The former ends up with a narrower choice of cultural fare, and the latter is denied meaningful contact with their peers – both outcomes seemingly at odds with a world hell bent on globalization, and America’s own goal to increase U.S. cultural exchange opportunities around the world.
Says Opera America’s Scorca: “These procedures are leading to diminished exposure of American audiences to great artists and making it harder for US artists to get work abroad.”
Gibson believes arts in America is in trouble as a result of the crackdown: “This is about the intersection of culture and commerce and the critical need for access and exchange. The vagaries of the visa process place our industry in jeopardy – facing unpredictable economic losses associated with delays and in worst-case scenarios complete cancellations of performances and tours.”
Democratic Representative Henry Waxman, whose California Congressional District includes Hollywood, believes the whole country could suffer: “In the long run, our security is enhanced, not diminished, by this kind of exchange.”
