Saturday, September 21, 2024

Canadian Cancellations

The plague of venues canceling my gigs at the last minute -- or at least trying to -- continues.  To the list that previously consisted of the US, England, Germany, and Australia, we may now add Canada.

Since last October I've had venue owners cancel concerts that were happening in their venues, on a very last-minute basis, in England, Australia, and now in Canada as well.  Most of the time -- including this time -- alternative venues were found by the local organizers, after much effort, and the gigs have gone ahead.

But any time there's a venue where the person or people who own or run it feel inclined to cancel an event at the very last minute that's been scheduled to happen there for months, this is a very problematic thing, for all kinds of reasons, for all kinds of people involved.

If a traveling performer playing in small venues for crowds that only occasionally achieve attendance in the triple digits having his gig canceled might ever be a story deemed worthy to cover by local media anywhere in the English-speaking world, how might they cover this cancellation effort?

Let's pretend.

If this hypothetical media outlet wanted to give some context, they might begin with the global realities that situate us all here:  a state with close relations to Canada is currently engaged in the act of trying to kill two million Palestinians in the Gaza Strip through a campaign of constant bombing of everything and everyone, combined with an imposed famine, and with the people prevented from accessing clean water, or any water at all much of the time, imposed disease as well.

They might mention the historic vote at the UN a few days ago, when representatives of 124 countries voted in favor of a Palestinian initiative requiring that Israel withdraw from the Occupied Territories of Gaza and the West Bank.  14 countries voted against -- the US and an assortment of either tiny Pacific colonies, or countries currently run by particularly rightwing types, like Hungary and Argentina.  Many European countries voted along with the majority, but many others abstained, along with Australia and Canada.

If there were press to cover a little venue cancellation of a traveling musician coming to BC from Portland, Oregon, and if they wanted to contextualize this particular musician and his history of trips to Canada, they could list some of the different events he's sung at since the 1990's for various Canadian labor unions, including protest rallies and conferences.  They could mention his long history of singing for antiwar groups, folk clubs, and folk festivals in Canada.  

They might mention my long association with Palestine solidarity groups in Canada, and the Palestinian community there.  They could tell their readers of the time I was banned from entering the country for a year, which local Palestinians were suspicious about, since the ban meant I couldn't cross the border to receive the award they were planning to give me.

Given that various press outlets are apt to find reason now and then to mention the wonderful history of Paul Robeson's concert for Canadians in the park in Blaine, Washington, during the years when he was barred from leaving the US, they might take the occasion to mention the concert activists in BC organized in the same park in Blaine, during the year when I wasn't allowed into Canada, when I gave a concert for Canadians assembled there in the park -- hundreds of them, despite the pouring rain.  I finally got to receive that award from the Vancouver Palestinian community center, as well (though you won't find any story about this in the press, since no press was there).

If the press outlets covering such events then wanted to put the whole story into the local context of the lovely city of Victoria, on Vancouver Island, they could mention that on the other side of the Salish Sea within which Vancouver Island is to be found, in Seattle, a young woman named Aysenur grew up, and on September 6th, 2024, an Israeli sniper shot her dead, for attending a peaceful protest.

They could mention the song about her that's circulating online, even, and connect this relevant local region news to this songwriter's upcoming, approximately annual visit to Victoria.

They could mention that this particular performer not only has a long history of singing for the Canadian labor movement, but a long history of singing for labor in many countries.  They could mention that epic festival the labor movement organized in Winnipeg to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Winnipeg General Strike that he sang at, along with some legendary Canadian musicians. They might note the song about slain Vancouver Island union leader, Ginger Goodwin.  Or the one about Chelsea Poorman, whose body was found decomposing behind a Vancouver mansion last year.

In Victoria, they might mention that he's performed many, many times at this particular union hall, doing concerts hosted by Victoria Friends of Cuba.

Unlike the United States, with its longstanding embargo against Cuba, Canada has never broken relations with Cuba.  They might mention that this performer has also been to Cuba once, and went there via Toronto, in Canada.  They might even mention that he's done tours in Lebanon, Israel, and the Occupied West Bank.

They might then question the motives of the local union leaders who so unceremoniously decided to cancel this event one week before it was scheduled to happen, although this performer and this sponsoring group had done events at this union hall on so many previous occasions.  What had changed?

Although all the publicity materials clearly indicated the host of the event was Victoria Friends of Cuba, the union leaders apparently suddenly didn't want to be associated with an event that said anything about Palestine on the posters, to the point where they wanted to just pull the plug on the event.  Inquisitive reporters might inquire, had someone contacted them about it?  Who was it?

If this local press outlet were to ask the artist whose local gig was being canceled what he thought about the whole thing, they might take out their phones to record the following statement:

As someone from New York of very intimate Jewish lineage, I understand very well that everything having to do with Israel and Palestine is very controversial, divisive, hot potato material.  Perhaps the motivation of local union officials to cancel such an event is much like the Canadian government's motivation to abstain from this recent vote in the General Assembly -- let's just stay neutral, and hope not to offend anyone.

As a huge supporter of organized labor, I deeply understand the desire to avoid taking any unnecessary positions on such controversial issues.  I'd rather not have to be distracted by things happening so far away, either.  There's a desperate housing crisis happening all over North America, as we all know too well, not to mention massive forest fires, terrible floods, and so many other urgent problems so many of us face right now, right here.

Sometimes, though, positions must be taken on things like genocide.  And even if a group doesn't want to go out on a limb and call a genocidal war waged against an entire population what it is, even without taking a public position on that, it is another clear step in a terrible direction to actually go and cancel an event another group is organizing, and to do so at the last minute, out of a fear of being associated with the event in any way.  This is not being neutral, this is taking a position, and sadly, a very troubling one.

Yours for the One Big Union,
David Rovics


Sunday, September 1, 2024

Downtown Portland and the Screaming Silence

I was in downtown Portland, Oregon from mid-morning until mid-afternoon today.  My eldest daughter, Leila, has just started her first year of university.  I can already tell she's going to get a lot further with higher education than her father ever did.

We live east of the Willamette River, which is to say, east of the area known as downtown.  To the west of downtown, the hills get very steep, and the wealthiest residents of the city, traditionally including all of the politicians, live there.

Downtown itself is often talked about, because it's reminiscent of a refugee camp with no bathrooms, but oddly juxtaposed with an urban setting.  It's as if the buildings are all props on a set, with half of them abandoned and not being used except as props. 

Those that are being used are off-limits to the people living in tents just outside their entrances.

The stench throughout downtown is stifling, especially on a warmer day like today, even though it's clear the street-cleaners had been through recently.

Union Station, the train station where Amtrak stops, is a center of the dystopia, and has been for many years.  In  every direction from the station, it smells strongly of urine.  If there's a storefront or office building without a tent in front of it, it's because that place has hired private security, whose job it is to keep people from camping in front of the entrances, as far as I can tell.

Their job is not to bother anyone putting stickers on all the street signs, they ignored that sort of activity very well.

The clear commonality with everyone on the streets you see in every direction, whether they're standing, sitting, walking, or lying down, is distress.  The clear common denominator -- whether they're recently homeless and about to have all their stuff stolen, chronically homeless and had all their stuff stolen a long time ago, whether they're on fentanyl and unable to keep their pants on, or they're shouting at themselves and anyone who might care to listen about their constant condition of unmet needs -- is distress.

I met Leila at the train station, along with her three fellow travelers from the university in Salem, and together we drove in my car through block after block of tent after tent and all the people living and dying in plain view on the sidewalks in front of us, past the boarded-up buildings, and we talked about what the streets are like in the parts of the US that the other students were from -- Texas, California, and Hawai'i, all places where the housing crisis is at breaking point, or would be, if there were such a thing.

Our destination was the waterfront, and the Saturday Market, which actually happens on both Saturdays and Sundays, and has for a long time now.  People with their booths were there, selling jewelry and pottery and food and all sorts of things.

I rarely go downtown, but the crowd was very small compared to any other time I went to the Saturday Market in past years.  It's usually too crowded, so I didn't mind that it wasn't, but it was certainly a notable absence of people coming for the occasion.

Just past where the market is there are jets of water coming out of the ground during the summer, which all the kids enjoy very much.  Folks living on the sidewalks can also wash a bit of the grime off.  Others just sit nearby, among the parents of the children like me.  One woman nearby is alternately shouting and laughing and crying about the terrible state of her life, living on the streets of Portland.  I don't know if anyone else was listening to what she was saying, but I was.  I can't ignore that kind of thing, even if I wanted to.  I didn't try to talk to her, though.

Near the market there was Mercy Corps, which has a big multi-story building there on Naito Parkway, featuring a huge sign supporting Ukrainian refugees.

Someone waiting in line for tamales with me complimented my t-shirt, which said Palestine Action on it.  He was visiting from Texas. 

My t-shirt was the only indication of any kind anywhere in downtown Portland today that Palestine exists, let alone that there's an American-sponsored genocide taking place there for the past 11 months.

In every city the size of Portland that I've been to since last October in all the other countries, there are weekly protests, at least.  At least there is a visible presence of the existence of a movement in opposition to this genocide.

But in downtown Portland, there's me and my t-shirt, and some stickers people might find appearing on poles in the area.  Nothing.

Nor do we find any indication that there might be people in this society who think the idea of a society where thousands of people live and die in tents on the sidewalks in the center of town is something crazy, that represents a broken system that needs to be radically transformed.  

There is not a single person in downtown Portland this Sunday trying to recruit anyone to any group, no one raising money for a charity, no one standing around with an unfolded copy of their party's newspaper, prepared to talk with passersby about alternatives to capitalism, and no more-radical-than-thou punks to make snide comments about the socialist with the newspaper, either.

Back when Portland was a thriving city full of musicians who lived here because it was a nice place to live cheaply and be with other musicians, the Saturday Market would always have amazing performers at it, some of whom I knew.  The city was full of people who were obsessed with old-time music, which included my neighbors and roommates, at various earlier points in my time here.

Now, the market had a stage with a sound system that had been set up by some company that sets up stages and sound systems on contract, by the looks of it.  There were a couple of people standing around dressed in Robin Hood kind of outfits, but they didn't seem to be using the stage.  

One young person plugged in and sang a few songs on the stage.  There were a few people sitting on the tables nearby, eating, and ignoring the performer.  Me and everyone I was with did the same thing.  It was the only merciful way to be, since the individual on the stage could neither play the guitar nor sing on pitch, even though the evidently original songs they were trying to render were not challenging to pull off in the first place, none involving more than three notes or more than two chords.

I'm not really sure how to describe what I saw today in downtown Portland.  But I know what I didn't see -- so many things, whose collective absence in this society, in this reportedly cultured and progressive city, is hard to fathom.

Deleted From Spotify

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