When I first walked in to the Pavilion of Cuba, I was fascinated by how large the building was for such a small country. From the very little that I know about Cuba, I expected a much smaller venue and art that did not have the same funding as other pavilions such as USA or Russia. The Pavilion of Cuba is a large palazzo-like building full on both floors of art from numerous prominent artists. I had no idea that the arts scene in Cuba was as large as the building made it seem. Nevertheless, I was very intrigued and extremely content with the art that I found in this pavilion.
The title of the exhibition is Tiempos de la Intuición or Time of Intuition. In the first right before the stairs, the pavilion naturally begins as a carpeted area where the theme and title of the exhibition forms. A time clock that circles in a pool of oil, spins in the first part of the pavilion and acts as an introduction into some of my favorite photographs of the entire Venice Biennale. The time clock shares the thickness of time throw the very medium. It uses oil to express the the Cuban identity to the rest of the world: a place isolated and contained for the past half century.
Rene Peña, a photographer, uses his artistry to convey a broad meaning that depicts the timeless sealed community of Cuba. His first photograph, White Head, is a picture of himself, a black man and it is clearly edited to show the difference in color. It speaks to what race relations are in Cuba’s past, present and future. The significance of a black man photographed with an altered skin tone only adds to the strife to live and breath as a person of color. Peña gives a glimpse of what it means to change identity in order to fit into a different culture. I believe he is also referring to the fact that in times of police brutality, not just in America, is highly broadcasted, it seems the only way to thrive in this world is to be the norm.
Although I understand the photographs by Peña, it seemed as if the audience was not the Biennale at all, but rather Cubans who have never looked through art to perceive the world in which they came from. Moreover, this exhibit cannot be fully translated into Western ideals of what it means to live as a Cuban. Cuba was and is still extremely isolated. This isolation is most notable in the rows of cardboard computers with different screens that seem to to portray the many misconceptions of Cuba today. The isolation sinks into a room full of delicate newspaper clippings that hang in the balance between the past and the present. The face of Fidel Castro repeats over and over again, as if to reiterate that his death did not change the world’s memory. Instead, each headline solidifies the confusion of the Cuban state.
In order to make a statement about Cubans for the public of the art world, it seemed only fit to discuss all parts of the Cuban identity. In the first part of the exhibition the exploration of time and ethnicity is captured through what almost seems like artifacts in a history museum. The religious identity of Cubans is displayed through the homage of female biblical figures that line an entire room. It is an ode to the women that seemed to uphold Cuba’s vigorous and close relationship with God. It was satisfying to see an artwork portray women as such holy figures pertaining to the very salvation of Cuba itself. Furthermore, it is the bottles of Cuban flowers and grass that line an entire room giving the pavilion a sweet and addicting smell. This smell wafts through the pavilion and is the art that connects all of the pieces. This exhibit ends on a high note, intriguing the art world with a defiant stance. The art and soul of Cuba may have changed, but the strength of those producing the works has not. I felt the words and emotions that this pavilion was depicting was lost in translation and identity. Therefore, lost in the isolation of an embargo and further ramifications.
Even with the travel ban lifted by Obama, Cuba will forever not be the same. Imagine a country stuck in time for decades and this acts as a new beginning for Cubans and more unifying one at that. This pavilion is a testament to the Cuban people and from the Cuban people that ensures the isolation will not exist anymore. The concept of time is expressed thoroughly within this pavilion and it is not the actual words that are lost in translation, but rather the emotions, the feelings of what it must have been like to grow up in a country where the rest of the world saw as the enemy. This pavilion bridges the gap between old and new Cuba with voices that bring to light the very essence of the what it means to be Cuban.
The pavilion of Cuba picks up where others are lacking. Some pavilions that I have seen play into what they are expected to talk about or showcase in their pavilion, something bland and dry in comparison to what they could have produced. In comparison, the pavilion of Cuba gives the art world a glimpse into their world and a very definitive point that this is not a space where all of the art world might relate. This is a space where a person shall admire the artwork lost in the whirlwind of political atrocities.
Noceda, Jose. “Cuba Pavilion – 57th Venice Biennale.” Institute of Sciences, Letters and Arts. http://www.istitutoveneto.it/flex/cm/pages/ServeBLOB.php/L/IT/IDPagina/1117
De Mello, Veronica. “Reynier Leyva Novo On Representing Cuba At The Venice Biennale.” The Collectionair’s Journal. May 29th, 2017. https://journal.collectionair.com/discover/interviews/reynier-leyva-novo-cuba-venice-biennale/