Arty Havana
Resident’s whirlwind tour takes in the Cuban capital’s artiest spots
HAVANA, CUBA— Where to look first at Callejon de Hamel on a Saturday afternoon? There’s a reggae band playing in the wildly arted-up alley, a dreadlocked guy braiding a tourist’s hair, preparations for a street wedding and a man enthusing about the Afro-Caribbean religion Santeria to a crowd. Oh, and the bar is open.
Amid the cacophony, you’d never guess the unassuming fellow with white hair and a khaki T-shirt quietly wandering around is the artist who painted this Afro-Cuban art project in Centro Habana into existence.
Muralist and sculptor Salvador Gonzalez Escalona started painting the outside of his apartment building and creating sculptures from recycled objects, and his neighbours in the community of Cayo Hueso immediately wanted in on it.
The Hamel community project, or “Hamel Alley” as it’s known, is proudly self-financed and free to ex- perience. Donations, of course, are gratefully accepted when they pass the hat.
In a ramshackle garden nook, Afro-Cuban lecturer Elias Assef gives an English talk on Santeria to a group of people on an Atlas Obscura tour. He ushers everybody inside a hut for a performance of barefoot dancers dressed as orishas (the religion’s deities).
“My last advice,” Assef says dramatically, before sending everybody on to the art gallery a few steps away, “is enjoy my country, but don’t try to understand it.”
It’s strange advice. The Cubans I’ve met have been eager to talk about their lives, challenges, history, culture and future. They love Canadians — we’ve long been their biggest tourist market — but want more of us to get off the resort and experience “the real Cuba.”
Enrique Nunez has brought me to Hamel Alley in his Lada. He’s a singer-songwriter, art historian, artistic director, lover of musicals, patriot, father of three.
He inherited the Soviet-era car from his late father, a beloved journalist and writer, who was given the car in 1998 by late Cuban president Fidel Castro. He painted it “fuchsia red” at his youngest daughter’s request.
I met Nunez at a travel conference in Manhattan in January. He spent17 days in the U.S., drinking in New York’s museums, Broadway shows, jazz clubs and iconic neighbourhoods, as well as Washington, D.C. “I think every artist has to go at least one time in a lifetime to New York,” muses Nunez, whose five-year visa with multiple entries will allow him to soon visit one of his three daughters in Florida.
Life in Cuba is changing and more people are being allowed to run private businesses, such as casa particulares (bed-and-breakfasts), paladars (restaurants), beauty parlours, hairdressing salons, spas and gyms.
“We are looking at changes, but not that fast,” Nunez says.
“Everybody knows that change will come.”
To supplement his government salary of about $32 (Canadian) a month, Nunez recently launched Cultour to share his artistic take on the city with travellers. His guided tours last eight hours and cost 100 CUC ($135) for one person.
We buzz over to the western edge of Havana to the Jaimanitas neighbourhood, a fishing town that’s home to “Fusterlandia.”
Just like Gonzalez, an artist named José Rodriguez Fuster tricked out his property with whimsical, coloured mosaic art and the neighbours wanted designs for their own places. Fusterlandia spans about three blocks and some homes double as private galleries and handicraft shops.
We give a guard a few coins to go into the gated yard at “Casa Fuster” since it was closed.
Havana is packed with tourists and buzzing with change.
On my first night, I explored Fabrica de Arte Cubano (FAC), a warehouse turned arts destination in the Vedado neighbourhood, with a massive lineup of locals and tourists waiting to get in. Cuban artist-musician “X Alfonso” is behind FAC and his band Synthesis is playing tonight. This sprawling place houses various art galleries, a cinema, theatre and stages. It’s just 2 CUC ($2.75) to get in and you get a card to record what you drink and eat, and pay on the way out.
The next day, in an equally crowded but totally different part of Havana, I do the tourist thing and try what had been Ernest Hemingway’s favourite drinks — a mojito at La Bodeguita del Medio and a daiquiri in La Floridita and pop into Curys Dance School, where Vancouver restaurateur Alessandra Quaglia has invested in a school (with hourly lessons) that becomes a bar at night.
“Many people come to Cuba just to learn to dance,” Quaglia explains. “It’s something that we miss in North America — that passion for life and dance.”
Maybe people should come to Havana just for a haircut. Nunez took me to Callejon de los Peluqueros (“barbers’ alley”) on Old Havana’s Aguiar St., where Gilberto “Papito” Valladares grew up poor and troubled before starting a hairdresser/ barber’s school. Now the alley boasts restaurants, shops and a scissor statue in progress, along with the school and Artecorte salon that doubles as the Barbers’ and Hairdressers’ Living Museum.
“This alley was a very poor place,” Nunez says. “Now it looks like Paris or Rome.”
We wind up our tour in Vedado, in one of his favourite paladars, a twoin-one spot with private international and Cuban restaurants called Razones and Motivos. We choose the latter. Nunez talks freely about Cu- ba’s troubled relationship with the United States, history, tourism and the arts. He shares the story about the Castro connection to his Lada and reveals his full name is Enriquito Nunez Rodriguez. It’s a name he shares with his late father and a name that opens doors.
His dad gave him permission to use the full name — on one condition. “If you’re going to use it, you should never stop loving your homeland. Never. Never. Never,” his father warned.
“It’s a great commitment for me to not disappoint his memory and to be the best artist, best person and best Cuban.” Jennifer Bain was hosted by the Cuba Tourist Board, which didn’t review or approve this story.