Street Scenes

This award-winning image is called Real Life in Havana -- it tells the story that most tourists don't see, but is real and true.  Per usual, I was running late to meet up with some people, and decided to take a short cut that would by-pass the tourist path.  As I was running, I glanced west -- the lighting down the street was perfect.  I stopped long enough just to get the one shot. 

This image is called Love on the Malecon.  The Malecon is a seawall along the coast in Havana where locals and tourists gather to enjoy the water and the view, especially in the late afternoon and evenings.  I had gone down to the Malecon at the end of a packed-full day, and became immediately enamoured with the ambiance.  Truly, Love on the Malecon.

I did take a few rolls of color film with me -- thankfully.  The colors, especially of the buildings, were wonderful.  This shot is called Schoolgirl and Car, and was shot in Trinidad, Cuba. 

Our group took a day trip out to a small village called Vinales.  This image from that afternoon is called Girl with Band.  Though this was in a small cafe in Vinales, the scene of musicians in cafes and restaurants is everywhere -- excellent live music is part of the Cuban culture, day and night. 

Behind the Scenes of the National Ballet of Cuba

For 3 weeks during January 2002, I woke up early every morning and got out into the streets of Cuba to photograph, shooting all day and into the evening.  I also went to as many photography exhibits as I could fit in -- it was International Photography Month, and Havana had some great exhibits going on.

With only a couple of days left in Cuba, there was still one photography exhibit I wanted to see that I had not made the time for.  Our group had a young local photography assistant, Leysi, who had an exhibit of her work hanging in an art center.  I had some gotten some nice shots and was beginning to wrap everything up to head home to America, so I decided to try to find this art center and see Leysi's exhibit.

Not able to speak Spanish, I certainly couldn't read it.  I had learned to communicate and navigate with charades (and had gotten pretty good at it!).  I found the art center.  It was a gorgeous, huge, colonial building.  Sadly, the small gallery inside it with Leysi's exhibit was closed.  Still, the building was so beautiful, I took a few minutes to simply absorb it.

The architecture was amazing, yet becoming quite dilapidated.  The paint was peeling, the windows were cracked and broken -- everything was tired and worn.  Yet the columns and structure were intact, and the light coming through the enormous windows was perfect.  With my camera over my shoulder and my tripod strapped to my day pack, I began wandering around -- not shooting, just looking.

Almost immediately, a man came running over to me very excited, and not in a good way, saying many words very fast that I did not understand.  I asked him in English if he spoke English.  He said 'No'.  Pointing to my camera and tripod, and using charades, he told me to leave.  I definitely understood this.

As I stood there with him, taking one last look around this beautiful space, he asked me where I was from (I had learned that much).  When I told him the United States, tears came into his eyes.  He nodded, looked me square in the eye, and using charades, told me I could take 1 or 2 shots, but I could not use my tripod or my flash, and my camera should be hidden.

At that moment a dancer glided past -- the image is below.

We were standing near a room with dancers in it, so I pointed - asking if I could get a couple of shots - he nodded.  Those shots are below.

I knew we were both taking a chance at that point with my camera.  I turned to thank him, assuming I would be on my way.  He then took a really big chance, and did what so many Cubans had done when they learned we were from America -- he asked if I would come back tomorrow to get a few letters to mail to his relatives in America (if you missed my first post, our group was in Cuba shortly after 9/11, and we discovered that the Cubans had no way to communicate with their people in America.  Many of them asked us to mail letters for them on our return).

I told him I would.  The next day I returned with a girl from our group, Calla, who was fluent in Spanish.  I wanted to know what this place was, and who were the dancers.  We found the man, and this is what we learned:

We were in the National Cultural Center for the Arts, and the dancers were the National Ballet of Cuba.  This is where they practiced and performed, and no tourists or photographers were allowed there.  Still, he offered to show us around, and said that I could take more photographs as long as I did not use my tripod or my flash, and kept my camera as hidden as possible.  The secrecy of it and the fact that no flash was allowed obviously had a very significant effect on the tone of the images.  To me, it made them especially haunting and beautiful.

 

The beauty of the building gave me pause, along with a certain cast of light coming perfectly through the windows.  But the real beauty was definitely the dancers.  Excellence, discipline and beauty are flourishing through the National Ballet of Cuba -- so much so, that the cracked windows and peeling paint become invisible.  The dancers in the National Ballet of Cuba inspired me deeply in 2002, and they continue to inspire me today in 2012 -- they are Rife with Life.  I hope you have enjoyed this visit - Behind the Scenes of the National Ballet of Cuba.

The Dogs of Cuba

As I mentioned in my previous post, I signed on for a documentary photography workshop in Cuba at the last minute.  It was not until I was on the plane that I even looked at some of the suggested ideas for a documentary piece.  Every subject idea required extensive research and preparation, and most would require either a knowledge of Spanish, or an interpreter.  I had neither.  Since we were already in the air, I had no choice but to stay open, and hope that an idea would come to me.

Our first day in Havana was spent doing what most people do in a new city -- getting oriented.  That's when my subject idea came to me - literally, walked right up to me.  In fact, this particular subject was everywhere.  The Dogs of Cuba were like little magnets for me -- almost like my camera was set on 'Auto-Dog'.  Maybe it was as simple as the fact that I love dogs and can speak Dog (unlike Spanish). 

The truth is, I had never seen a culture so integrated with dogs, and I loved it. 

Most of the Cuban dogs wore clothes.  Few wore leashes, which was fine -- there was no need for leashes with these dogs.  They were simply part of the larger Cuban community, walking right along with the human pedestrian traffic, definitely on their way to somewhere.  I never saw a dog chase a car, or bark at a person.  Verrrrrrry civilized, these dogs.

If you've never visited a third-world country (which Cuba is) it's hard to understand that level of poverty until you see it.  Yet, they clothe their dogs. 

Notice Josephine is wearing no clothes in this shot.  But she sure had the cutest red bow tied around her t-shirt when I met her one night with her person, Daisy.  When Daisy found out I was from America, we had our special bond.  The more we talked, the more she wanted to get together again.  Daisy wanted to practice her English, and I wanted to get inside the home of a dog to see how they lived.  We set a time for me to photograph Josephine in her home, and to practice English with Daisy.  When I arrived, Josephine had no clothes on.  I asked Daisy about this, and she said that she had given Josephine a bath so that she would be beautiful for her shoot.  She was so proud of how clean and pretty Josephine looked (Josephine was pretty proud, too), that I could not bear to ask her to cover all that beauty with clothes.  In this shot, they are dancing :)

'Dog' as a subject travels very nicely -- all over Cuba.  Believe it or not, my subject was in every little village and town we traveled to ;)  I did notice that only the 'city-dogs' -- the ones in Havana -- had on clothes.  Still, there were some mighty cute subjects outside the city.  This little guy is in Trinidad, Cuba.

Ok.  So maybe the puppies didn't have clothes either, even this city-puppy. 


In the end, Dog as subject was fun and engaging and full of the love-connection for me in a country I did not speak the language.  I love the Dogs of Cuba -- such delightful bridges between distant cultures, providing a connection that surely is Rife with Life.

January 2002 - 10 years ago this month

Ten years ago this month, I was in Cuba -- January 2002.  It was International Photography Month, and I was there taking a documentary photography workshop.  As always, I had signed on at the last minute, so I had no time to prepare for it or to build expectations.  My best hope for the trip was to get a nice body of work and to learn a little Spanish.

Did I mention it was January 2002?  Only 4 months after 9/11?  The outpouring of global love for our country was enormous, and if you spoke with anyone who had traveled outside the United States at that time, they always came home with stories of international peace and love. 

I had barely left my own house that fall, much less traveled outside the country, so here's what I never saw coming:  the overwhelming Love and compassion from these dear, dear people in Cuba.

I believe our group might have been some of the first Americans they had seen or been able to communicate with after 9/11.  Think about it:  Americans weren't traveling much internationally just after the attacks, and the Cubans had no internet access, no way to phone their own families in America, no way to send a letter.  Yet they did have television and they had watched it all -- horrified with the rest of the world.

The connection with each of them always began with the question of where I was from.  My answer of 'The United States' would be immediately followed with much animation:  huge eyes, loud gasps, hands covering the mouth or arms thrown up into the air, then coming down to demonstrate the towers falling, and in the midst of many words I did not know, I always heard 'the Twin Towers', spoken in English.  There would be hugs and tears and much love, followed by the sharing of espresso and invitations into homes and special places.

That precious connection became the cornerstone for each documentary piece that developed for me there, whether it was titled 'The Dogs of Cuba', 'Behind the Scenes of the National Ballet of Cuba', 'Afternoon in Vinales', 'Real Life in Havana', 'Love on the Malecon' or any of the other many stories.  After spending the entire month of January 2002 in Cuba, I still can't speak a bit of Spanish.  But I know this:  the Cuban people are Rife with Life.

A 10-year anniversary is always a marker, and in gratitude for my time there and  my memories of the lovely Cuban people, I'll begin my diary by sharing those stories and images.  I hope you enjoy the read.