’ÄúMoros y Cristianos’Äù (literally ’ÄúThe Moors and the Christians’Äù) is the result of a long photographic research that I have carried out in Havana over several months.
In a few years Cuba will probably cease to exist, not so much as the real entity it is but as the current combination of the tourists’Äô dreams and expectations.
Cuba has been particularly exploited as the projection of the mythic concept of ’Äúlost paradise’Äù, but actually happens to be in a painful situation of unstable equilibrium between the stubbornness of a rˆ©gime that pursues the communist ideals in impossible circumstances and with erroneous methods, and the free fall into the violent and merciless swirl of a capitalism that has shown all its limits in a ’Äúdemocracy’Äù working only on economical bases.
Nobody knows which will be the outlet of this transition. Given the presuppositions and the alternatives, I personally believe it will very unlikely become a ’ÄúHappy Cuba’Äù.
Most of the images we see of Cuba reenact the widespread promotional topic derived from a willful process of idealization. To my eyes they have always appeared strangely homogeneous and repetitive, or intuitively superficial, and instead of quenching my desire of knowledge they paradoxically fed my curiosity.
I decided to go and see, without looking for anything in particular, or wanting to demonstrate anything at all. I rather allowed myself to be found, to be taken in, and to slide without prejudices into the daily rhythm of the city.
During my stay I spent 24 hours a day in symbiosis with the autochthones. I lived in their homes and shared as much as possible their lives. I got the confirmation of the limits of the stereotyped representations I had been given by the media, and discovered a completely different Cuba.
At this very time I became aware of the difficulty of ’Äútranslating’Äù into my photographs the depth and complexity of the situation.
My approach was a human and artistic one.
Documentation was not my goal: I tried to enter and grasp what I was feeling, so as to render that world as vividly as I could by interpreting and crafting its visual attributes, especially its psychological features.
This approach led me to experiment at the level of photographic language. Trying to go beyond the physical appearances and to make abstract features visible, wishing mainly to communicate emotions, I decided to use a technique that I considered suitable and effective for the endeavor to ’Äúrepresent’Äù rather than to ’Äúreproduce’Äù.
My often-dreamlike images yearn to depict difficulty, solitude and degradation as well as the wait and the magic, the fascination and the intensity of the sites. Their modest ambition is to nurture the love for humankind, in all its weakness and dignity.
’ÄúAdamantly refusing to be exploited for whatever cause Havana, metonymy not only of Cuba but of human condition in general, becomes here a ’Äútheatre of truth’Äù where landscapes and details melt with emotions and spirituality, opening the path to a particular, deep state of consciousness’Äù.
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