Cuba! Sculpture and More at Havana's National Museum of Fine Arts

"Ocio" by Gabriel Cisneros Baez (2022) 

No visit to Havana would be complete without a stop at the National Museum of Fine Arts. The Museum's collection is so large that it spans two buildings, one dedicated to Cuban Art and the other to International Art. Given our limited time, we only had an opportunity to tour the Cuban Art collection that's housed in restored colonial barracks that date back to 1764. Trust me when I say these are not the type of barracks that come to mind when you hear the word. As the website says, the building has an "Old World elegance" complete with courtyards and soaring decorative ceilings.  

We had some time before our docent tour to wander the courtyard, which was chock-full of sculpture. I immediately gravitated to "Ocio" by Gabriel Cisneros Baez. I didn't know it at the time, but "ocio" translates into "idleness" in English. Obviously, Cisneros has never done a side plank or he would know there's a lot of work involved in maintaining this pose. Somehow I suspect there's more going on, but I'm not going to hazard a guess here. A second sculpture by Cisneros laid nearby titled "La embestida" or "The Onslaught." You can see that work by clicking here. Cisneros is only in his early 30s, so he's an artist to watch. For a short interview with him, click here. 

"El descanso de la Republica"
by Guillermo Ramirez Malberti (2022-2023)

I am in love with this sculpture by Guillermo Ramirez Malberti entitled "El danscanso de la Republica" or "The Rest of the Republic." Maybe it's just me, but there are certainly times when I'd like to take to my bed in distress over the politics of the day. You might think I'm projecting a bit, but the image behind the overwhelmed woman is of a sculpture outside the Capitol called "The Virtue Tutelary of Town People" by Angelo Zanelli. It's worth noting that the word "tutelary" means guardian. The location of this sculpture implies that it's the government's role to guard the virtue of its people -- as the powers that be interpret the word "virtue." Is it just me, or does that sound a lot like the political situation in Florida these days? 

Malberti is known for creating works that bear witness to Cuban life. One of his best known works is a 1990 series of clay sculptures entitled "How Do I Tell You My Story?" (Click here for an image.)  It's personal, obviously, but filled with political references. The first work is a depiction of his parents dressed in military attire; the fourth is an image of the artist himself as a young man holding a membership card of the Communist Youth. That individual sculpture is named "Will I Be Like Che?" Interestingly, the artist recreated the series in bronze, a decision that changes the sculptures' feeling entirely. Clay is warm while bronze is cold and hard. Looking at "The Rest of the Republic" with this choice of medium in mind gives additional weight to the work and the distress the woman feels. For more on Malberti, click here. 

"Una tribuna para la paz democratica" by Antonia Eiriz (1968)

"Una tribuna para la paz democratica" by Antonia Eiriz was one of my favorite works inside the Museum. The title translates into "A Platform for Democratic Peace." If you click on the image, you will be able to more readily see the lectern in front of a faceless crowd. It turns out that, so far as I can tell, this is the name of the painting, with the Museum making the decision to turn the work into an installation by adding the chairs. This expansion leaves viewers with a sense of being at a press conference rather than a rally. 

Our docent talked about Cubans finally having the power of free speech. But that was a long time coming -- and who knows how it actually works in practice. In 1948, Cuba adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which includes language embracing freedom of expression and opinion. Still, there was pressure for artists to create pro-Revolution work. Shortly after the creation of "A Platform for Democratic Peace," Eiriz quit painting for 20 years. The official reason was grief over the death of her mother. Many people, however, believe her withdrawal was the result of government criticism of her work and the work of other creative types. I wouldn't be surprised. I've included some info about the current state of artists' freedom of expression in the last paragraph of this post. 

As a bit of an aside, in 1968 Heberto Padilla wrote "Out of the Game," a book of poetry that included a poem about Eiriz. The book and its counter-revolutionary themes were lauded by the Cuban writers' union. But things didn't go well for Padilla after the publication of his book. In 1971, he publicly retracted the counter-revolutionary attitudes in his poetry. Nobody believed his change in attitude was sincere, and Padilla later acknowledged he made his public statements after being tortured. Wow. Maybe I wasn't paying close enough attention, but I don't remember our docent at the state-owned museum sharing this with us. For more on Eiriz and her work (and Padilla's poem about her), click here. 

"Suvivor" by Roberto Fabelo

I'll leave you with a work I feel kind of obligated to share -- one of the very creepy (and crawly) cockroaches with human heads by Cuban artist Roberto Fabelo. To make it even more, well, icky, the original work was comprised of 10 or 12 of the creatures. Most were crawling the Museum's walls, although some had fallen to the ground with their legs sticking up. The series was one of Cuba's submissions to its Biennial in 2009. 

So what's going on here? Although I liked one commentator's note that he and a colleague enjoyed imagining the heads of their bosses on the cockroaches, I don't think that's what Fabelo intended. If you've read Kafka's Metamorphosis  (I haven't), you'd likely think of that novella's references to a salesman turned insect and his subsequent struggle to survive and to support his family. Our docent mentioned this reference and its commentary on the difficulty of humans to survive as a species. It's hard not to think of how challenging life is in Cuba these days when considering that perspective. For more on Fabelo and his art, click here. 

I would be extremely remiss if I didn't mention that the Government of Cuba continues today to repress artistic freedom. (Note: This wasn't something we were told. Instead, I stumbled upon this inconvenient fact while doing some research for this post.) The 1976 Cuban Constitution includes a provision that reads, "artistic creativity is free as long as its content is not contrary to the Revolution." And then there's Decree 349, adopted in 2018. Under the Decree, all artists are prohibited from operating in private or public spaces without prior approval by the Ministry of Culture. In addition, use of patriotic symbols that contravene current legislation" and art that contains "sexist, vulgar or obscene" language or "any other content that violates the legal provisions that regulate the normal development of our society in cultural matters" are specified as artistic content that's banned. I'm shocked, but I guess I shouldn't be. Not surprisingly, this law is not enforced in a uniform manner. To read more about this issue, click here for an article published by Amnesty International and here for a letter published by Tania Bruguera, an artist who has been arrested and jailed multiple times for her violation of the law. 

Next up: Sampling the performing arts in Havana