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Three Vancouver photographers recently travelled to Cuba, each exploring independently. And, as one would expect from three unique perspectives, each has captured certain aspects of this island and its people. Each of these aspects, as with any artistic endeavour, are naturally self-reflective in turn. Tom Abrahamsson spent his early life as a journalist/photographer in Europe, and now manufactures camera winders to make it easier for photographers throughout the globe to capture life as it happens. Abrahamsson's work reflects his anticipation of life's moments played out on the streets, from formally attired dancers tangoing on the steps of Havana's cathedrals, to the swoosh of archaic American cars for which Cuba is famous. Gary Blakeley trained as a graphic designer in London, and has taken his award-winning visual awareness to postings in New York, New Guinea, Australia and Canada. The political/historical context behind what appears to be the everyday informs his imagery. Blakeley currently runs a successful graphic design practice in Vancouver. Chris Cameron originally studied the sociology of mass media, and that early interest is still very much in evidence in his work. Principal photographer of the Vancouver International Jazz Festival for more than a decade, his fascination with the fleeting and intangible moment of music finds articulation in the visual captured moment.
Havana Notes The public fascination with Cuba that currently exists reflects that impending change. We on the outside and there is, as a result of the four decades of US-imposed trade sanctions, a true outside/inside dichotomy want to experience the Cuba that has stood in the face of those sanctions. We want to see the effects of communism on 11 million Caribbean people who are renowned for music and dancing. We want to walk the old streets steeped in the history of cargo, capitalism and catholicism, past colonial buildings that now serve as offices devoted to Committees for the Defense of the Revolution. We want a taste of this enigma before the relentless engine of globalization alters its character forever. Over the past decade, since the collapse of Soviet support, Cuba in general and Havana in particular has already altered, finding an economic lifeline in tourism. Now, all-inclusive resorts crowd the beaches of Varadero, 90 minutes outside of Havana, catering to middleclass Europeans and Canadians. However, where vacationers do not gather, Cuba remains an uneasy marriage of decaying 19th century splendour overtaken by 20th century revolution. UNESCO dollars pour into Old Havana to stem the tide of tropical humidity and neglect. Small outdoor shops storing this week's ration of bananas, or onions, or potatoes cater only to those with Cuban pesos, while down the street meats and cheeses and packaged foods are ready for those with access to American dollars, the other national currency. In a country that trades on the currency of its enemy, many other ironies also abound. School children forced to practise their strictly choreographed flag-waving for hours in the Plaza de la Revolucion suddenly break into free form salsa dancing as the loudspeakers broadcast rhythms and harmonies that speak to their souls and fuel their feet. Four decades of hardship, embargo and communism have not dampened the welcoming smiles and offers of shared rum under the shade tree. This is a country waiting waiting at the bus stops, waiting under the highway overpasses for trucks to hitch a ride on, waiting for the soup kitchen to open, waiting on the front stoop, waiting for Fidel to die, when the world will change again.
© All images are copyright by the respective photographers. |
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