Unpack Studio Residency

Thanks to archiveThing and Unpack Studio Havana Art Residency, I was fortunate to spend three weeks in Havana in February 2024. These images and texts are some of my reflections on my time at this artist residency. Thank you to the Canada Council for the Arts.

the path

On my first day in Havana we go to the beach at 6am so that we can get back in time for a performance art event. Jess Dobkin is here from Toronto. She leads an afternoon workshop that introduces the participants to a whole slew of practical actions. In the last exercise we begin by writing the word COURAGE in the center of a piece of paper. We then briefly describe some moments when we have been courageous. For some reason I decide to split the word in two. COUR, because it’s close to the French coeur (heart) and AGE, because it takes heart to age (“Ageing is not for wimps!” says my 86-year-old mother.).

The word courage does in fact come from the Latin word for heart as the seat of emotions. I think about ageing, my mom, Norwegian death cleaning, how I have started this process early (I hope) by going through my archives in the studio, which has led me to this residence, in which I am unpacking some old projects from my archives, at unpack studio in Havana.

Earlier, during the first exercise of this workshop, we stood in front of the group one by one, silently making eye contact with each person in the room. It was harder than it sounds. My heart was beating so fast, and I could feel it so clearly. I can’t remember the last time I felt so fully present and nervous at the same time. I am reminded of why I value live performance. There are a lot of big feelings that happen when you simply stand in front of others and are willing to be seen.

the place

It’s too easy to photograph Havana. Everywhere you look there is something beautiful from the past. But the city has been falling apart for decades and as someone said to me “at a certain point the dilapidated stops being romantic”. These are some views on Havana.

art + artists: a couple of couples

Adonis Flores Betancourt and Marianela Orozco invite us to their home in Central Havana. An incredible selection of their work hangs on the walls. We look, listen, and then sit and talk. They are passionate about expressing the toll of violence on the human body and engaging with transformation. Their work slows the gaze by shifting materials, meanings, and engagements with familiar forms.

Charlotte Weismann and Thomas Steiner are also residents at Unpack, they are in the room beside me. They live and work in Linz, Austria. Charlotte’s practice is grounded in ceramics and sculpture, Thomas’ in film animation. They present their work in the Unpack Studio house to an attentive crowd. Charlotte’s ceramic forms are witty, smart, and formally surprizing, Thomas’ dizzying animations are simultaneously thoughtful and excitingly manic. It’s a treat to see their work after having spent so much time with them.

Ed Pien and Johannes Zits spend a lot of their time in Cuba, most of their time in Canada, and the rest of their time elsewhere. I am currently trying to pin them down so I can purchase the book about Ed’s project with Cuban elders in St. Augustine. Ed’s artist talk at Unpack Studio is superbly informative. Johannes’ performance at Unpack Studio is focused and inspiring. It is a pleasure to spend time with them.

art + artists: some men

This group show is one of two excellently curated exhibitions I experience. Titled Tres Tristes Tigres, the exhibition is curated by Liatna Rodríguez, and includes artists Manual Castillo, Leandro Feal, and Luis Lópes-Chávez. I am drawn to the diving Jesus, the text messages that appear as typing on an old monitor, the bird’s eye view of Berlin. When I check the sheet of paper I am holding, containing a map of the exhibition, I see a work listed where the wall seems to be blank. I move closer to see a peephole. I am reminded of Duchamp’s Étant donnés. Here, looking though the eye piece, I see the words The End in neon. I fail to get a good photo. A couple sees me looking and asks, “How did you know there was a work there?” We chat and after connecting on Instagram I see that the young woman has a few posts referencing tango. I find tango in Havana by peeping into a hole in a wall.

On a different day Raúl Meriño Recio’s, Células zombies, made of human hair bricks, and Alejandro Ortiz’s Cut Portrait make me take a second look. There is something performative about each of these works. I can feel the body of the artist making them. They dismember something and reconstitute it for us to consider. Someone has put their sweater over the arm of the seat/sculpture.

On a rooftop, Aluan Argüelles’ Cielo raso from the series Monumento, is an installation of clothing donated by families and friends of those who have recently migrated away from Cuba. There is a long list on the wall that contains a fraction of the names of those that have left. “Forever…Monday Vibes”

art + artists: more women

Most of the exhibitions I visit are full of work by women. There are several, four, maybe five, group shows I see with artworks by women. Something is afoot. It makes me giddy. I have been taught to be serious if I want to be taken seriously but I choose to be giddy, especially when I see women take up space.

Piso 34 at Social 1916 is one of two excellently curated exhibitions I experience. There are more, but this exhibition integrates the artworks into the space so elegantly and shows how a collaborative relationship with a thoughtful curator can elevate artworks. Many of the artists in this exhibition are also showing in various other venues around Havana. Curator: Chrislie Pérez. Artists: Brenda Cabrera, Anyelmaidelín Calzadilla, Rocío García, Nadia Díaz Graverán, Lianet Martínez, Clara Massó, Gabriela Pez, Mabel Poblet, Gabriela Reyna, Greta Reyna, Unicorn_bitchm, and Nerea Vera.

In Havana Vieja, Factoría Habana is an incredible, expansive space showing Mujeres entre la utopía y la distopía. This exhibition has a strong, multi-generational approach featuring twenty female artists. I am drawn to Sandra Ramos‘ La mano de la historia (The hand of history) and the quote “to all orphans of socialism”. The photo of the two girls reminds me of my sister and me in Romania. Each work carries a complex conversation which multiplies in relation to the works by the surrounding artists. Curator: Concha Fontenla San Juan. Artists: Ailen Maleta San Juan, Aimee Garcia, Alejandra Glez, Anyel Judith Goenaga, Dania González Sanabria, Elizabet Cerviño, Evelyn Sosa, Glenda León, Lidzie Alvisa, Mabel Poblete, María Magdalena Campos-Pons, Marta María Pérez Bravo, Monik Molinet, Nadia Diaz, Osy Milián, Paola Fiterre, Rocío Garcia, Sirya Arias, and Yanahara Mauri.

At the unpack studio residence, local artists drop by to share their work. Denise Osoria is showing us her incredibly moving performance video “Cuando hablamos de resistencia”, when we speak of resistance.

art + artists: the responsive curator

Curator Dannys Oca Montes arrives at the house. We chat. I show her my work, I talk a bit about it. She quickly articulates the cinematic and feminist threads of my practice and before I know what is happening she is on the phone with a colleague at the Museo del Bellas Artes Cuba. Later that week, in the Museum’s screening room, she hosts the first of a new series of events called “…in conversation with Dannys Oca Montes”. This public conversation is accompanied by a screening of some of my film and video installation work. It’s a pleasure to be chatting with her in front of the warm crowd. I’ve never had a such a quick turnaround between meeting a responsive curator and receiving the opportunity to share my work with others.

the birthday party

Today we went to Lulu’s house to celebrate many birthdays. Hers (94), her son’s, and her downstairs neighbours, artists Ed Pien and Johannes Zits. Lulu insists I drink her rum soaked with dried fruit, and that I bring a jar home inside my luggage (wrapped in my underwear!) We eat cake. We all play pin the tail on the donkey. Thank you Lulu, Ed, Johannes for such a special afternoon.

fresh air

This is the day we took a daytrip to Soroa. We are hosted by artists Jesús Gastell and his wife Aliuska Pagarizabal, a teacher of Spanish and Literature (here in an old photo with Fidel). Their house is beside a small village school. My mother used to teach in a school like this in Romania when she was 18. I was a little scared of getting on the horse but I am convinced its undulating movements cured my aching back. This is my very good friend Kim. She has come to visit Cuba while I am here. I met her when I arrived for the first rehearsal of my first professional gig as a contemporary dancer. I was 18.

the economy

This is 160 US Dollars. In February 2024, if you change it at a bank you get 120 pesos for 1 dollar. If you change it on the street you get 300 pesos for 1 dollar. For those of us lucky enough to eat out in the evening, there is a lot of bill counting at the end of the night. On the corners, piles of garbage eventually get picked up. There are some stores with a few things in them. There is a giant, state-run ice cream palace called Coppelia. When they opened in 1966 there were 26 flavours. When I went with Camilla and Jess they had one, chocolate. I usually order chocolate. At Coppelia, one scoop of ice cream is 9 pesos (roughly five cents). At the ice cream shop near the residence, one scoop of ice cream is 240 pesos (roughly one dollar). Several wings of the museum are closed, the doors kept shut with a plastic bottle cap and string. In an outdoor court, behind a group of boys playing basketball, this mural caught my eye. Ever skeptical, I googled it and found that it’s an ad campaign for Havana Club rum, to “align the brand with Havana’s street culture”.

the question

Healing from the world, for the world.

This is what Charlotte says on the way to the Babalawo when I ask her what she needs from him. A Babalawo is a Santeria priest, a spiritual healer (the word literally means “father of secrets” in the Yoruba language). Charlotte has been researching Santeria. She met this Babalawo a few weeks ago and has decided to ask him for guidance. He acts as a conduit and reads her fortune through a binary system of divination. We all come to witness this ceremony in his home. He is welcoming, kind, funny, and humble. Amongst other things, he tells Charlotte she needs to trust herself more. It’s a special morning.

equilibrium

Today’s activities include a translation session with Camila Betanzos Morales. We are creating Spanish subtitles for my video HEX. As we near the end of the text, the phrase “unstable equilibrium” comes up and Camila shows me her tattoo. Clearly it was meant to be. Like her tattoo, Camila is gently present. She is grounding and generous. She invites me to her home for a meal, we walk, we talk, she teaches me a lullaby her grandfather sang to her, she comes to sit with me on my last night.

the house

There are few photos of the house on the Unpack Studio Instagram page that are not filled with people. These are the spaces of the house, empty and full of promise. This is Alex Majerus and Omar Estrada. They are artists and they run Unpack studios. They work hard to make the house shimmer.