CubaTravelPartTwo

Cuba Travel Journal, 1995
Part II

Sunday, January 22, 1995 (Havana):

Take a sponge bath when I wake up. There's no hot water in the apartment. I could have some water heated up on the kitchen stove, but that seems like too much work. So when I wash my hair or shower, I do it Japanese style minus hot water. There is a basin filled with water in the bathtub with a small pail by it that is used to flush the toilet. You just pour in two or three pails of water and the toilet flushes. To bath I get in the rear of the bathtub behind the basin, and pour cold water from the pail over my head. Then I soap up and rinse off.

Jacqueline and Sandra have come over with Sandra's three year old son. He's really cute, and I give him some gifts for children I've brought with me: a magnifying glass and some pogs, which are a big kid thing in the States right now. The pogs are basically cardboard milk bottle tops with American pop culture figures on them - Jurassic Park characters, the Simpsons.

The rest of the group comes over, minus Abelardo. After coffee we trek to a main street corner to wait for a bus. On the street is a neighborhood group that is cutting weeds, sweeping the sidewalks, picking up trash, painting the curbs. This is a typical weekly neighborhood clean-up program. It's a nice way to get to know your neighbors coming together like this on a common project once a week. And it's all age groups from grandmothers to young children. It seems a very socialist, and human, way of living.

Forty-five minutes later a very modern German bus pulls up and it's some of the performing artists from the Young Communist Party. They are going to perform at a street celebration in honor of the Jos� Marti Centennial. The BIZ goes along because they are to be presented with a certificate of appreciation. When we arrive about 1:00PM, we are given salmon sandwiches for lunch. Music is playing from a bandstand, and it's all very festive. Lots of teenagers dancing, and what dancing! Music and dancing seems to be two of the great national treasures of Cuba. Its really something to behold.

The people from the Young Communist Party who we have come with are the entertainment, and there is a band, a dance troupe, and a comedian that has the entire audience laughing like crazy. Of course, I can't understand a thing, but the fun of it all has me laughing too. Jacqueline tells me later that there was alot of jokes about the social situation, the blackouts, the food shortages, and other problems shared by the audience. I never get the sense that people are not allowed to speak their mind about social or political matters. I never ask pointed questions about the political system, because I feel it's not my place to do so, but this is often discussed with me, and never in hushed tones.

After the celebration ends, about 4:00PM, the BIZ members and the Young Communist performers walk to a neighborhood club for dinner. We wait outside for awhile, and there are three young prostitutes hanging around. It's explained to me that there is a tradition of prostitution of teenage girls in Cuba. They only go with foreigners, and bring more money home to the family then the fathers do. It seems to be socially acceptable.

We are served a meal at the club of homemade beer, rice, pork fat, green tomatoes and lettuce. It's pretty grim fare, and I pass on the pork fat on general principles. Everyone is in high spirits, especially after the beer and some rum that is passed around.

It's clear to me that although the Cuban people have little in the way of material goods, there is no lack of jois de vie. And this is something that makes more of an impression on me during my stay then anything else. The people are happy. They lavish attention on Sandra's son, who is impossibly cute and very well behaved. The group takes turns watching him, playing with him, kissing him, making sure his every need is taken care of. You can tell alot about a society by the way they treat there children. And Cubans love kids. I never see a child harshly disciplined during my entire stay.

We get into the bus and drive back to Banco de Ideas Z. Fernando, the head of the Young Communist group, comes over to talk to me and Ludovico during the drive back. We've gotten along very well, and he sees that I appear to be a seamless part of the group. He says to me that all his life he has regarded Americans as enemies, but that now he sees that they can be friends. This statement to me, expounded in a sincere manner, is one of the highlights of my trip. It's what I've come for. Just to be among the people and for us to discover together the reality of the relationship without political regard.

At Ludovico's apartment the group has tea and more talk. My cold is getting better, but I take a nap to maintain my strength. It's been a long day.

When I get up only Ludovico and Abelardo are there. I revise the catalog essay. A reporter comes to talk to Ludovico about BIZ for Granma, one of the two national newspapers. The reporters cousin is with him, who lives in Philadelphia. Ludovico himself has a wife and daughter in Pennsylvania. Abelardo's parents and sister are in Miami. There are many people with relatives in the United States. Perhaps this is one reason I encounter such little hostility toward myself, and America in general.

Ludovico, Abelardo and myself stay up and discuss a variety of subjects. They tell me how much my visit means to the group. They have been together for just over a year, and this project with the National Museum, stimulated by my visit, verifies all the hard work they've done. We also talk about the value of non-commodity art, and the importance of contact with other global artists. I feel very close to these two. It's amazing that we can understand each other so well even though our two cultures have been isolated from one another for over thirty years. It's a testament to the power of art to bring people together. And once together, the ability to become friendly despite obstacles of cultural differences, language, and life experiences.

Monday, January 23, 1995 (Havana):

Wake up at Banco de Ideas Z and have coffee and a roll with Ludovico. At 9:00AM I get on the Chinese Flying Pigeon bike that I've been provided with and cycle to the National Museum in Old Havana. It's about a four mile ride and a great way to see the city. It takes about 20 minutes. I feel very much like the cosmopolitan citizen of Havana, and blend in flawlessly. When walking around I get some stares as an obvious foreigner, but on the bike, I'm just another cyclist. When I get to the Museum I check my bike at a staff lot. There's a woman there who gives me a number and puts the same number on the bike. I lock it up as well, because bike thefts are not unknown. Jacqueline lost her's a couple of weeks ago even though it was locked. She's got a bright new red Flying Pigeon now.

I go to the exhibition space and begin to go through the mail art continuing to sort out artist stamps, zines, catalogs, and especially interesting items to feature. The space is large enough to display all the contributed items. Some visitors come through while I am working. One of them is Luis Miret Peret who wrote me a letter of reference for the Cuban Interest Section in Washington. He is the Foreign Relations Officer for the National Council of Visual Artists, the largest artist union in Cuba. He is showing around Alex Rosenberg, the President of the Appraisers Association of America. He's at the National Museum to organize a show of Henry Moore sculpture. I give Senior Miret one of the commemorative exhibition rubber stamps that Picasso Gaglione has made up for me, and express my appreciation to him for writing the support letter for me.

At 1:00PM I have lunch of fried chicken, friend bananas, rice and beans, at the Plaza Hotel. Go back to the Museum and work till 3:30 with the members of BIZ. A woman from Argentina comes to see the show who has sent in a contribution. Ask Jacqueline out for the evening, and she accepts. Take the bike home to BIZ and arrive at 4:15. Take a sponge bath in the bathtub and nap.

Wake up about 7:00PM and join Ludovico and Abelardo in conversation. We talk informally and then decide to do an audio interview about the group. One phrase stands out - humanism not socialism. And that is the crux of my relationship with the members of the Bank. I am not here as a representative of any organization, political philosophy, or to push any agenda. I come only because Ableardo and I shared an interest in an artform which has the advantage of bringing people of different cultures together.

Banco de Ideas Z is a group that grew out of Ludovico's experience in the April Publishing House. They formed about sixteen months ago to promote the work of young and emerging artists in Cuba who have difficulty in surmounting the politics of the official State and Communist art organizations. They have published some one-hundred and twenty brochures, artist's books, stationary, and assorted printed promotional materials since they formed. BIZ is the only independent art group in the country and they can move faster than the official organizations in helping young artists to realize their potential. They also try to show them that there is another direction for artists other then the marketplace, which so dominates the thinking at the moment. The mail art show at the National Museum is one way to do this. It is an artform that allows the Cuban artists to reach out to other world artists in a cooperative, not competitive, situation.

Have dinner of rice and hot dogs, but Abelardo's dog Toby, enjoys the meat more than I do. I'm trying to watch what I eat, and I tell my hosts that it's just that I'm not used to their menu. Like the cold I am fighting, I also have an upset stomach, which I am trying to control by sticking to a familiar diet of basic foodstuffs, like rice, spaghetti, bread, bottled water, and canned soda.

Jacqueline comes over around 9:00PM and we walk down to the harbor where there is a garden nightclub in back of one of the hotels. Juan Carlos and I had stopped in there the other day for a drink and it looked ok, but in the evening there seems to be too many tourists. Most of the tourists I've seen have been Spanish, German, and Italian. I had heard that there were many Canadians that vacationed in Cuba, but I didn't see any. I was told that the Canadian dollar was dropping in value and tourism had fallen off. Jacqueline and I find a Japanese garden to get away from things and talk. Jacqueline is a college graduate that majored in English literature, so she is very articulate and knowledgeable about a variety of subjects. At BIZ she is the coordinator of their literature program.

We take a taxi to the Floridita bar in Old Havana, which is famous for originating the daiquiri, and being a hangout of Ernest Hemingway. Lots of pictures of Hemingway on the wall, including one with Fidel. It's one of the few photographs of Castro I am to see in Havana. There is no cult of personality going on here. The Floridita is a great bar. There is a trio to entertain the patrons, and their singing is really great. I have three daiquiris, and Jacqueline has two.

We stay till about midnight and take a taxi to first drop off Jacqueline at her house, and then myself at BIZ.

Tuesday, January 24, 1995 (Havana):

Wake up at 9:00AM, and have some coffee with Ludovico. Take the bike to the Museum at 10:00 and arrive one-half hour later. It's very windy and the waves are coming over the sea wall on the Malacon. Check the bike and start laying out the artist postage stamps in two cases. Two extra panels have been put up allowing the mail art to completely surround the room. Sandra, Ana, Camacho and Rodolfo are hanging the show. The cases will be in the middle. Two other cases will contain publications that have been contributed, but at present they are being painted. Once the artist stamps are laid down in the cases Plexiglass sheets are overlaid to secure them. The Argentinean woman comes again to see the show. At 12:15PM I go out to get some lunch at the Seville Hotel.

Back to the Museum for a brief stay before Abelardo, Carmen and I go to Radio Taino. This is a mixed Spanish-English radio station that caters to tourists in Cuba. We do a brief interview about the exhibition with Carmen translating. It's curious to me that when we went to the radio station we took a taxi, and our driver waited for us to come back out - about an hour. We never paid him until the very end. So there is a certain amount of trust going on here that is unheard of in the States. At least between taxi drivers and their riders. As I've mentioned, Jacqueline had her bike stolen, so it isn't like there isn't any crime at all, but I feel safer in the streets of Havana, then I do in Dallas

Then we go back to the Museum, and I finish up putting the publications in the last two cases. Our goal was to finish installing the exhibition today, and we have done so. Ride the bike back to the Banco de Ideas Z. The waves are still crashing on the Malacon, and I get a nice refreshing spray from time to time. The weather in Havana has been perfect, about 60 degrees, cool in the evening, but never excessive. Even so, the Cubans, wear sweaters and jackets against the cool air. I'm usually comfortable in a t-shirt. It hasn't rained at all, and won't for my remaining stay.

Arrive at BIZ around 3:30PM and Ludovico, Jacqueline, Sandra and Rudolfo are there. The entries are still coming in for the mail art show and now number just over 800 from 43 countries. Venezuela is the newest country to be added. This is the largest mail art show I've ever heard of and it's due to many conditions: the fact that it's in Cuba, which has been a blank map for so long in Netland; it's the first mail art show in a National Museum of Fine Art; and I like to think that at least some of the contributors are motivated because of the cooperation between Cuban and American artists. Also the Banco de Ideas Z has done a great job sending out invitations. Surprisingly, the Cuban postal rates are fairly cheap (and I think they have mailed them under the auspices of the Young Communist Party), and this allows them to have sent out over 1,500 invitations.

We stay at BIZ until about 5:00PM when Carmen, Jacqueline, Rudolfo, and I take a cab to the TV station. Well, it's not really a cab, but a neighbor who agrees to take us there and back for a nominal price. I dress up in my tuxedo and derby hat for the occasion. The program is the nightly news for Havana, and it's a very big audience. I get some makeup put on for the show. Jacqueline is the translator, and she's really nervous, but I get to comfort her, and keep her mind off things, and it's about the best time I have of my whole stay, because I now know that I'm falling in love with her. Unfortunately the program was done live so no tape exists. I show some mail art that was sent in for the show, talk about the exhibition, and about mail art in general, how it can cross borders and introduce different cultures to one another. The show starts at 6:00PM and ends at 6:30PM. After it's over, the four of us walk two blocks down the Rampa, where the TV station is located, and go to the Fashion Institute, where Jacqueline picks up a skirt from a friend. She used to be the librarian at the Institute, and there are shelves full of old fashion magazines from Japan, Italy, and elsewhere.

I lend Jacqueline a jacket against the cool night. We take the same car we came in back to the BIZ ($4 total for the two trips). We have coffee and talk. Everyone leaves except for Abelardo, Rudolfo, Ludovico and myself. We have a dinner of ravioli, great split pea soup, and hot dogs. I feed the hot dogs to Abelardo's dog Toby. I think he's my friend for life now. Abelardo leaves, and Ludovico and I go to bed about 10:00PM.

On my other trips, I'll do a bit of reading before I go to bed, just to unwind from the day. But in Cuba, all the books I've brought (Ann Rice books) go unread. My days are so full and satisfying that after I make an entry in my diary, I always go to sleep immediately. With a smile on my face.

Wednesday, January 25, 1995 (Havana):

Wake up at 9:00AM. Today is a "free day' as Abelardo puts it: the mail art show is installed, and there is nothing to do until the opening tomorrow. Ludovico fixes me some eggs and coffee for breakfast. I don't speak Spanish and Ludovico doesn't speak English, but like I find on all my travels, it's possible to communicate at least on a basic level. I do wish I could get into a meaningful conversation with Ludovico without the aid of a translator, but in truth, the moments we share of silence, of just being together, they are meaningful as well.

After breakfast I take out my Chinese "Flying Pigeon" bicycle and go for a ride. I park it near the Coppelia, a park devoted to ice cream. It's a Havana landmark, and always crowded with tourists and Cubans alike. The Cubans bring tubs to be filled up and brought home. At the bike parking area, it's the same as at the Museum. The attendant gives you a number and puts the same number on the bike, you lock it up to be sure of it's safety, and you pay a small amount when you leave.

I take a walk down the Rampa, which starts at the Havana Libre hotel and ends at the Malacon. At a sidewalk market I buy a new wallet. I've held mine together with black electrical tape for too long. I go into a store for tourists and look at the selection of Cuban cigars. In another store I buy a t-shirt of Fidel and another hero of the revolution. I need these shirts for wearing at present as well as souvenirs. I didn't bring that many clothes with me, because I took so many exhibition and performance related items. And I've yet to see a laundry, and doubt that such a service exists except for in the hotels.

Back at the Coppelia I get a dish of ice cream, which is called, "The Three Graces." Three scoops of ice cream, malt, and two tropical flavors I'm unfamiliar with, but which taste great. The cost is $1.40. Then I pay the attendant and get my bike. I bike toward BIZ, but go past it and end up on the Malacon. I love looking at the harbor. There are often large boats offshore. But not as many as one would expect. I cycle back to BIZ and drop off the bike, then take a walk toward the Miramar District, and go to a shopping mall for Cubans called La Flora. But there's nothing of interest there for me. Sneakers, cloths, electronics, articles of everyday use. Walk back to BIZ where there is a meeting in progress. The members meet every Wednesday at this time to discuss present and f;uture projects. I take a nap. It's about 3:30PM.

I get up about 5:00PM and the meeting is over, but the members are still gathered and talking. Sandra is working on the exhibition's list of contributors and I give her Ashley Owen Parker's new publication Netwerk Directory to check addresses against. Ashley has communicated with Juan Carlos and Abelardo on Internet, and she is perhaps the most highly respected networker in Cuba, especially for her editorship of Global Mail, which offers the Cubans a lifeline to international art projects. Clemente Padin, who has just visited this past September, also ranks high in the pantheon of networkers. He is the patron saint of all Latin American networkers, so this is not surprising. Having met Padin in Montevideo, and having correspondent with him for over fifteen years, I share their sentiment. He is committed, politically and artistically, and has special insight into the problems of Latin American networkers. He has also curated many mail art shows, several on Cuban themes, and his latest in on Jos� Marti, a respected Cuban political figure.

Abelardo has a new haircut. He's not quite a Shozo, more like a Mayumi. Some poets and artists come to the Bank about future collaboration. The group is really active and doing alot of things. I've seen other groups like the Raft in Saint Petersburg (then Leningrad), Cage in Yugoslavia, and AU in Japan, but this group is closer and more active then any I've seen . The good feelings I receive from the members is difficult to describe, but very real.

I ask Jacqueline if she wants to go out that evening, and Rudolfo gets a local person to be our driver for the evening. He takes us to Old Havana and drops us off at Cathedral Square, which is a very special place, small but perfectly proportioned, and with lots of character. We walk on the cobblestone streets to Bodeguita del Maedio, one of the most famous restaurants in Cuba. It has graffiti all over the walls, and it's really beautiful the way it brings the entire room together. We drink Mohitos, the famous drink of the restaurant. Jacqueline says the place serves authentic Cuban food, not like what I eat at Ludovico's, although that seems pretty authentic to me. We have pork in tomato sauce over rice, and it is very good. The Cuban coffee at the end of the meal is also excellent. Cubans like there coffee sweet - just like me.

We walk through the narrow streets of Old Havana and go to the Floridita, which we both enjoyed the evening before. Jacqueline points out a Afro-Cuban religious ritual to me at the doorway of an art gallery. Behind the door there is a doll, and around it, some coins, rum, and sweets. It's an offering to the Spirit of the place. When we have drinks at Banco de Ideas Z, we always pour a little bit behind a door before we indulge ourselves. It's where the Spirits lurk.

At the Floridita, there's a little bit of a special treat. There is a well-known Cuban writer there with an entourage of some eight people with him, and they are seated at a large table right next to where we are seated against the back wall of the bar area (there is a restaurant area in an adjoining room). A singing trio, who is familiar with the writer, puts on a special performance, and it's just too good to be true. Their voices are great, and they are singing alot of traditional songs that many people join in on. Jacqueline included. She has a great voice. But she says she never dances.

We meet our driver at midnight, and he takes us home to pick up Jacqueline's bag. Then we drive to her house and I return to BIZ, where I fall to sleep immediately. For the curious, the cost for the evening was $35 at the Boddegita del Medio, $25 at the Floridita, and $10 for the driver. A perfect night out in Old Havana with a beautiful woman in the Hemingway style. Kill me now, please.

Thursday, January 26, 1995 (Havana):

Wake up at 9:00AM to get ready for a 10:00 television interview. Carmen comes over by bike and so does Jacqueline, who will be the translator. We ride our bike to the Writers and Artists Union, which I have passed many times on my previous bike rides to the Museum. It's a fantastic whitewashed mansion, with a beautiful garden around it. But when we arrive, it's explained to us that the camera for the interview has gone out "to the provinces" and our interview will have to be cancelled.

We bike back to the BIZ and I'm still tired from the evening before, so I take a short nap from 11:00 to 1:00. When I get up I write about 25 postcards to mail artists telling them that the show opens today, and what a great response it has received. Have spaghetti for lunch and get ready to take a taxi at 3:00 for the 4:00 opening of the exhibition at the National Museum.

By the time I arrive at 3:15, there is already a large crowd gathered before the locked gallery. Abelardo and I are asked to do a radio interview, and we go up to his office with a reporter from a cultural station to do so. There is also a Cuban contact person there for ABC News, who has been told about the exhibition by an artist friend who is represented in the show.

The opening ceremonies take place in front of the closed gallery doors. I'm dressed in my Fake Picabia Brothers performance tuxedo and derby hat. There's a big audience of about 200 people. Abelardo introduces me and I give a short talk. In it I stress the cooperation between Abelardo and myself, despite communication and political obstacles. The Museum Director is there with other Museum staff. After my talk, a guitarist sings a song. Then the doors open and the exhibition is officially opened. It's the largest mail art show ever - over 800 participants from 44 countries. And it's the culmination of the work Abelardo and I have done for the past year and one-half; without financial help, without agency support of any kind, strictly by force of will between two people of different cultures determined to break down imposing barriers.

At 4:45PM, I give a performance. I pass out about fifteen rolls of electrical tape in colors of black, white, yellow, green, red, and brown. The members of Banco de Ideas Z wrap me while the exhibition audience watches. They are all wearing the special t-shirts I have made up to commemorate the event. I have no idea what anyone thinks about it. I am wrapped so tightly that I need to be cut out of the tape. I present it to Ludovico as a relic of the performance.

After the performance, we take some group photographs to document the event. We leave as a group and walk the entire length of the Malacon back to Ludovico's apartment. Everyone is exhausted after the long walk and the busy day. At the Bank we have ham sandwiches and break out the good Havana Club rum to celebrate. Everyone leaves except for Abelardo and Ludovico and we have a long talk into the night about the meaning of it all, and possible future plans, including a show of Banco de Ideas Z at Modern Realism, the printing of the exhibition catalog, and the possibility of their printing my Cuba Travel Diary. I do a rubber stamp mural on the studio walls. Then to bed.

Friday, January 27, 1995:

Get up about 10:45AM, which is very late for me. When I'm at home I usually get up at 6:00AM. Wash up and have breakfast of eggs, ham, roll and coffee, Stamp out some rubber stamp impressions for future publications. Present Ludovico with a rubber stamp that he particularly admires: some primitive looking images done by Island House Rubber Stamp Company in Dallas. Take the bike to the Museum about 11:30. Buy some rum and cookies for the party scheduled for the evening.

About 12:30PM Abelardo, the audio-visual person for the Museum, and I, get the slides ready for the lecture I will be doing at 2:00PM. About forty people turn out for the talk, which Abelardo translates, including Pedro Juan Gutierrez, who has been the only mail artist from Cuba for many years. I believe he has been active since the early eighties. I dedicate the lecture to him, because he has been the one giving Cuba visibility in the mail art world. He's forty-five years old (his birthday is today), and speaks very good English, so we are able to converse on a number of subjects. I tell him that I feel badly about not involving him more in the organization of the National Museum show, but that I needed to keep the focus on my collaboration with Abelardo. Juan understands this and I am very relieved, because I have worried about this.

There are many questions after the lecture, and I feel that it was very well received. I have added many new slides to this presentation since the last time I gave it last Fall in the National Academies of Art in the Czech Republic and Hungary. There are many slides now on artist postage stamps, that have been taken for the Faux Post show by Visual Arts Resources, who will travel the show, and by my ex-wife Paula Barber, was kind enough to take other slides for me of representative postcards, envelopes, recent catalogs, and letters.

After the lecture Carmen, Juan Carlos, Ana, Abelardo and I cycle back to the BIZ. We arrive about 5:00PM. Most of the members are there. Tonight is a big celebration dinner, and I break out the 2 bottles of rum. We have a great rice paella with sausage, fresh tomatoes, and a big cake. Lots of dancing - especially Juan Carlos and Carmen, who dance rumbas and merengue. We pass around a good cigar, and it's all lots of fun and laughing.

Rudolfo tells a story about his bike breaking down on the way to the Museum, and his going to a repair shop, only to find that he had no money. But he has the t-shirt on that I have had made for the exhibition, and it's recognized by one of the bike repair workers, who saw me - the crazy American- on television the other evening. So he offers to fix the bike for free and tells Rudolfo to come back anytime after Rudolfo gives him invitations to the opening. We also hear an announcement on the radio we're listening to about the workshop that will be held the next day at the Museum. So we are all in high spirits, and feeling that we have done something important.

While all this is going on, Sandra has very patiently put together a package of all the publications that Banco de Ideas Z have done over the past 16 months - about 120. This is the work I will be showing at Modern Realism from April to June.

Everyone leaves except for Ludovico and I, who go to bed about 10:00PM.

Continue to Part III