Cuban contemporary art

Despite the isolation of this controversial island, international curators, collectors and art dealers still fly to Havana to discover promising young artists.
[This is archived content and may not display in the originally intended format.]

Despite the isolation of this controversial island, international curators, collectors and art dealers still fly to Havana to discover promising young artists. They are attracted by the sense of the forbidden created by the isolation of the island and its political landscape, and they are challenged by the development of the contemporary art system in a context where the freedom of expression is limited.

The Cuban contemporary art scene in Havana brings an exotic flavour to the international contemporary art system but its perception is far from unique. According to artist Wilfredo Prieto, “The quality and the attractiveness of Cuban art are given by the lack of financial pressure on the artists who can dedicate themselves to art entirely”. Of a different opinion is artist Sandra Ceballos, director and co-founder of the Cuban independent space Espacio Aglutinador. In her view, the system guarantees freedom of expression only to a restricted group of privileged Cuban artists whose art is in line with the regime. In order to appreciate the Cuban contemporary art system, one needs to understand its complex and sometimes enigmatic society.

Every day and every action of Cubans is influenced by politics, which rules economic decisions in this planned economy where virtually everything is administrated by the state. It is the state that openly limits the freedom of expression in Cuba. In “Cuba Confidential,” Ann Louise Bardach writes that “complaining is okay, but doing something about it, like organising a demonstration, is not. Those who venture further typically go directly to jail.”

These comments raise serious concerns as to how contemporary art may develop in a state that can censor any form of expression and prosecute artists who dissent from the vision of the Establishment. In this type of environment, some questions come to mind: How do Cuban artists deal with politics? Do artists follow the system guidelines and are used as propaganda from the state? During my recent visit to Cuba I was able to meet with artists and those in the industry who shared their view on these concerns. Nelson Ramirez de Arellano, the Curator of the Fototeca de Cuba, who works jointly with his wife Liudmila Velasco, says that his work is surely inspired by Cuban politics. “We – my wife and I – are not a good example of what could be lack of freedom of expression in a socialist country,” he says, “Actually by fate, we probably represent the possibility of freedom of expression in a politicised country and we never experienced limitations to our art. We have heard stories about people who have been censored, but this never happened to anybody close enough to know if it is really true. In my opinion, Cuban artists are a lot freer than in others
countries. I think this happens because the Cuban government is concerned about polishing its own image to the world”.

This vision is shared by Prieto, a young and established Cuban artist based in Havana whose recent work was the recipient of the 2008 Cartier Award announced by Frieze Art Fair in London. According to Prieto, “Cuba is the best place in the world to live and work for an artist”. He recalls times when he visited the United States of America and discovered with his great surprise that established artists or arts professors had financial constraints and low living conditions: “I was calling them to meet for a drink in the evening but they were busy working and serving customers in bars to earn a living. This doesn’t happen in Cuba”. In Cuba being an artist is a privilege compared to other professions, since artists can earn a good income by selling their works legally, whereas any other profession earns an average state salary of €18 per month.

Ceballos – whose independent gallery is located in her house in Vedado, a residential area of Havana – has a different viewpoint. In an interview with the magazine Power of Culture, she said: “We have done very careful and devoted work with the artists discriminated against by the Cuban institutions for their art as well as for their personality, their attitude or their poor economic situation. So works by artist who had been in prison, potato vendors, postmen, forgotten artists, outcasts, some insane people, religious believers and so on and so forth were shown in our space.”

On a similar note is the view of the Cuban artist Michel Pou Pastor Diaz, whose work was exhibited at “Ten years of contemporary Cuban photography” in Chicago last April. Asked about the freedom of expression in Cuba he said: “Some artists in Cuba are afraid to express themselves openly, but most of them only care abut money and commercial art – which sometimes is disguised as conceptual art. Moreover, a small group of very young artists is trying to draw attention at all costs. Their work is really terrible, but confusing enough to find acceptance among curators and galleries, maybe because they find their work provocative and non-commercial. Only a limited number of artists are not afraid, regardless how good or bad their work may be.”

It is clear that there is no dialogue between the two Cuban contemporary art systems. Regarding this, Ceballos said in her interview with Power of Culture: “It would be great to establish a dialogue between the independent art scene and the artists who are affiliated with the government system. Of course, it would be utopian to think that artistic qualities are the only driver of the art world. But it would be great if the establishment in Cuba promoted more than just a small selected group of artists, whose support enables them to obtain visas to work and promote their art abroad. This group has virtually no idea of what happens outside the art institutes’ gates.”

As a confirmation of the lack of a dialogue, Luis Miret from Galeria Habana, who I met at Scope London, said that he doesn’t have any contact with Espacio Aglutinador, and does not believe them to be very active in Cuban contemporary art. As he is an employee of the Ministry of Culture, this would seem to be confirmation that there is no exchange between the independent art scene and the art scene affiliated with the government.

Perhaps a way to summarise the state of Cuban art is well expressed by Prieto, who says: “In Cuba the art system is very different from abroad” the use of politics in art is considered an easy way for Cuban artists to obtain international notoriety rather than challenging the traditional system”. We wonder how Cuban art would develop if the political landscape were to change.

Romina Provenzi
About the Author
Romina Provenzi is a London-based writer