Mark Mothersbaugh, from Devo to TiVo; Cuban art in L.A.

Paul Reubens was at The Groundlings theater. So he was connected with all the artists and musicians that were around then. And he had asked me to score his movie when he did "Pee-wee's Big Adventure." I was touring with Devo and there was no chance it was going to happen. But by the time "Pee-wee's Playhouse" came along, we had accidentally signed a record deal with a company that soon went into bankruptcy. So I said I would love to score "Pee-wee's Playhouse."

In a band, part of it is you're writing music. But the biggest part of it is like being on Broadway. You re-do the songs every night. You perform them again every night. And if you like being on Broadway and doing the same show every night, then it's more fun to be in a band and to tour. If you like the creation and writing new music every day, then doing film and TV is much more exciting because you get to write new music every day.  

He's absolutely a true artist. He was sitting in my studio with his laptop, writing parts of the story for "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou" and talking about it with me while I was writing music for things that he was going to have in his headset while he was shooting. 

Every project that we've done, it always seems like they brought something more to it than I expected. I remember going on the Internet to look up the "Jump Street" TV show and [thinking], Somebody wants to make a movie out of this? And they made these really funny movies. I like working with them. At the end of their project, they're playing with every little piece — they're re-editing, pulling shots out that they forgot about to try and make a joke pay off. 

Well, I think on the conservative side, 30 or 40 percent to about 90 percent of the film — that's my feeling.

I think the score is really important.

I'm kind of kidding. But yes, I do think so. We have a lot of roles we play as a composer. I won't name the actor's name or the film's name, but [the director said]: "Our lead actor had diarrhea and we were doing love scenes all day. And it looks more like he has diarrhea than that he's in love with this woman, so can you help us?" And you gotta write music that compensates for an actor that's like, wearing a diaper, and everybody in the room knows it. 

[Laughing.] Right. "Depends," I think, is the name of the cue.

[laughs] When I read about the Cuban Revolution happening, I said, Wow, a revolution in our hemisphere! I want to be there! I went on July 4, 1969, planning to spend a week or two, and ended up spending six weeks.



I really fell in love with the country and the conversations were great. It was like being back in my first year of college, where you stayed up all night and talked about sex, politics, religion or whatever was the hot topic of the day.



They were super enthusiastic about talking about anything, whether it was for the revolution, against the revolution — whatever was happening. And I found that very exciting.

When I got to Cuba, the first circle of people that I met — because of friends who'd already been there and who they had recommended — were writers, artists and musicians. A completely different kind of circle from what I was used to. And I really became enamored of the cultural life of Cuba and the way it was happening at that time.



So that's what really stuck me, and I immediately started bringing in Cuban posters. That was my first love — film posters, solidarity posters. I think the first poster I ripped off a wall was a huge poster of Fidel [Castro], and the second one was a big announcement for a dance performance. [laughs]

Since 1999. We sued the U.S. Treasury Department in 1991 for the right to bring in original Cuban art, which was not allowed at that time, and we won the case. But we didn't have the money to open a gallery, and I always wondered why other people were not taking advantage of the fact that they could bring that art in. But I think people were still somewhat timid about traveling to Cuba, buying art — they just didn't do it.

I don't think it's difficult. People think it's more difficult than it is. I think the biggest difficulty is simply bringing the art. When people come to the center and they see all we have, they always ask, "How did you get that here?" And I always say, "In my luggage." And that's literally how I've brought it.



I have sent exactly one piece by air from Cuba to the center, so this is the first show that we've mounted where many pieces had to be flown in from Cuba, more or less directly. Obviously, there's no FedEx, there's no UPS, nothing like that, so we've had to send things via Copa [Airlines], via Panama. If a piece of art is over 70 inches, it has to go via Virgin via London to Los Angeles. Some pieces have come via Canada, too, and it's very, very costly.

I think it will change quite a lot. First of all, there's the question of whether it will change the art itself. Cuban art is already quite daring, given the context of the society. Cuban artists will do art about everything, and sometimes they get in trouble for it, of course.



But they're not afraid, and I think that one of the things that worries me about the thawing of relations is the fear that some of the artists will start to do art that they think is more commercially viable.



On the other hand, the very best artists have already been selling in the States, collectors have been going to Cuba for many years and I think that serious people will continue to visit serious artists.

Absolutely. One of the things that is sad, however, is that there is really no domestic market in Cuba, because people simply do not have the money to spend on art. I hope that, with the changing of relations and the hope that the economy in Cuba will improve as a result, there will be a domestic market.



And then some of the art will change because they'll be speaking to one another, not trying to speak only to the people who come from outside or people who live inside Cuba who have money to purchase art. You can't help but start to do a kind of art that makes it possible to have a conversation with the person who comes to look at your art, hopefully to buy it.