March 29, 2004
Cargosy: Two More Cubans
by Jerome du Bois
For several months early last year Juan Grass Rodriguez and his crew worked on the . . . thing, though they hardly ever named it. Radio silence, you know, with beard gesture (hand strokes chin). But they planned and discussed and gathered materials piecemeal, barrel by barrel, steel bar by steel bar, bolt by bolt. And then in the middle of the night in the middle of July they drove the green truck to the beach and began the assembly ritual they had practiced and troubleshot over and over. Six hours later they launched. You remember, don't you? an offbeat news story to liven up a lazy summer? Here are a couple of pictures to jog your memory:
The Coast Guard sank the funkily beautiful thing and repatriated the dozen carronauts. Later the same year the Cuban artist Armando Mariño, participating in the Eighth Havana Bienal, exhibited a piece entitled La Patera -- "footcar" or "foot-vehicle" -- pictures of which you can see below:
Sr. Mariño, 35, is a well-known Cuban artist who has freedom to travel -- he has a place in Madrid -- to exhibit his work, and to sell it to anyone for US dollars (as long as Castro gets his cut -- and Castro always gets his cut.) He usually paints large bland canvases in a historical, allegorical style, expertly rendered, presenting heavy-handed lessons in colonialism. I don't think he had any problems assembling the materials for this piece. Old car carcasses get passed around Cuba endlessly; and casting legs is easy.
I don't know much about Juan Grass Rodriguez except that he is a 35-year-old truck driver, has a wife, Isora Hernandez; and their son, Angel Luis, 4.
Now put the two vehicles side by side, and La Patera gets blown out of the wa-- but it didn't, did it? It was the beautiful green truck in its cargosy to freedom that got sunk to the bottom of the sea. I don't know La Patera's fate, but if it isn't in some collector's home, it's safely wrapped in plastic somewhere, as if it was consequential.
So Juan Grass Rodriguez, his wife, and son, came back to the island they longed to leave, where Armando Mariño and his fellow artists can come and go and enjoy a Western lifestlye under the government's wing. But they will all -- from Kcho to Tonel to that punk Yoan Capote, who said "My preoccupation is with art and money. This government helps me. If not, I would leave the country" -- they'll always know that a truck driver and some of his friends can create objects -- objects for reality, for living -- that make their art look silly, small, and sold-out.
And do it secretly. And do it twice.
Last I read, Juan, Isora, and Angel Luiz were in Guantanamo, and should be stateside soon.
The present piece may very well be the second in a new series contrasting and comparing Cuban artists -- especially those in the ASU Collection -- with other Cubans. Stay tuned. See also: Two Cubans: In Order Not to Forget.
Posted by Jerome at March 29, 2004 09:33 PM | TrackBack