Artistic Depictions of Afro-Cubanos in the late 1800s
The works of Victor Patricio Landaluze help to better understand the history of race relations in Cuba post-slavery. Landaluze was born in Spain and was against Cuban Independence. His art fell under the genre of costumbrismo which attempted to capture life as it really was.
These portraits consolidated and circulated a way of seeing race, especially when it came to black women.
In the Absence is a satirical portrait of a house slave caught in the act of impersonating her mistress. The images show black women pretending to be in positions that were traditionally taken by white women with a sense of irony. To the white populations in Cuba and Spain, this art work would ease their skepticism and add to their thinking that blacks were inferior. This image might reassure a racially panicked white population that such surrogation has no hope of succeeding to calm their fear of the "Africanization" of the island.
The Four Generations shows 4 generations of women with increasingly lighter skin tone. This supports the white supremacist ideology that black women should not produce black children and proliferate their race. Jill Lane, in Smoking Habanera, discusses that black women were not seen as a threat to the "purity" of whiteness, but as women on their way to whiteness. By having generations of black women having interracial sex with white men, the offspring with gradually become less and less black.
In the Absence is a satirical portrait of a house slave caught in the act of impersonating her mistress. The images show black women pretending to be in positions that were traditionally taken by white women with a sense of irony. To the white populations in Cuba and Spain, this art work would ease their skepticism and add to their thinking that blacks were inferior. This image might reassure a racially panicked white population that such surrogation has no hope of succeeding to calm their fear of the "Africanization" of the island.
The Four Generations shows 4 generations of women with increasingly lighter skin tone. This supports the white supremacist ideology that black women should not produce black children and proliferate their race. Jill Lane, in Smoking Habanera, discusses that black women were not seen as a threat to the "purity" of whiteness, but as women on their way to whiteness. By having generations of black women having interracial sex with white men, the offspring with gradually become less and less black.
Jaime Valls, "La mulata," oil painting, late 1920S . Avelina Alcalde Valls collection.
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Victor Patricio Landaluze, Una mulata con soldado (A Mulata with Soldier). Courtesy Museo de Bellas Artes, Havana
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In Una mulata con soldado, racial relations in Cuba were further depicted. The mulata woman is assumed to be the offspring of a white Spanish man and an enslaved African woman. Mulatas are symbolic of colonial period and the complexity in identity of Cubans. In this image, since the mulata woman is interacting with a black man, it does not show a black woman aspiring toward the ideal of white womanhood. The smoking habanera is a contrasting image when compared to the women in previous images. She is relaxed and confident in the public arena as she smokes her cigar so casually. Black women had not been portrayed as confident in participating in leisure activities until this time. The image of the mulata de rumbo (mulata of the street) became popular in the early 1900s. This woman typically was a beauty who refused labor and spent her days preparing for her rumba nights. The audience of this image became the white American man who could experience both the prostitution of Cuban woman and Cuban itself.
The Search for Cubanidad
Cubanidad, Cuban identity, is a very complex idea. Cubanidad could not be reinvented without dealing with race… the combination of U.S. racial categorizations – according to which, one drop of “black blood” made someone “black” – and the belief that blacks were inferior and racially mixed degenerates placed most (if not all) Cubans in a situation of inescapable inferiority and condemned the island to perpetual backwardness. Racial composition, U.S. observers concluded, explained the inviability of the Cuban nation and Cubans’ incapacity for self government; since black and Cuban were treated as equivalent concepts, all Cubans were targeted by segregationist practices.
Within Afrocubanismo there were disparate, contentious visions of race and of its relationship with national identity. The movement and discourse of mestizaje it helped to consolidate created spaces for some radical authors to express a vision of Cubanness that might otherwise have been difficult to propogate. This vision sought to identify cubanidad with the fortune of those who had been marginalized by a republic that was supposes to be with all and for all: manual workers, peasants, unemployed, blacks.
The Afrocubanismo movement of the early 1900s began a massive shift towards a greater acceptance of working-class expression. The art formed in this period (music, dance, literature, visual art) are the conceptual foundation of modern Cuban culture. The 1920s and 1930s were a volatile time socially for Cuba and the role of Afrocubans in Cuban culture was reevaluated.
Juan Marinello, the communist activist, pushed for better inclusion of blacks because they had ‘special significance in Cuba’ as a result in their participation in the revolutions against Spain and the unjust social practices to which they were still being subjected to in the Republic. Afrocuban themes were seen to be especially rich and deserved a more prominent place in the arts. There was much opposition to Afrocuban inclusion into popular music, especially from the conservatives.
The rise of black working-class culture, economic crisis, U.S. foreign relations, and political instability all shaped the formation of afrocubanismo. African themes were sources of both pride and embarrassment to the nation. Africanisms were powerful icons to rally behind while simultaneously reminding the world of a shameful cultural legacy.
Within Afrocubanismo there were disparate, contentious visions of race and of its relationship with national identity. The movement and discourse of mestizaje it helped to consolidate created spaces for some radical authors to express a vision of Cubanness that might otherwise have been difficult to propogate. This vision sought to identify cubanidad with the fortune of those who had been marginalized by a republic that was supposes to be with all and for all: manual workers, peasants, unemployed, blacks.
The Afrocubanismo movement of the early 1900s began a massive shift towards a greater acceptance of working-class expression. The art formed in this period (music, dance, literature, visual art) are the conceptual foundation of modern Cuban culture. The 1920s and 1930s were a volatile time socially for Cuba and the role of Afrocubans in Cuban culture was reevaluated.
Juan Marinello, the communist activist, pushed for better inclusion of blacks because they had ‘special significance in Cuba’ as a result in their participation in the revolutions against Spain and the unjust social practices to which they were still being subjected to in the Republic. Afrocuban themes were seen to be especially rich and deserved a more prominent place in the arts. There was much opposition to Afrocuban inclusion into popular music, especially from the conservatives.
The rise of black working-class culture, economic crisis, U.S. foreign relations, and political instability all shaped the formation of afrocubanismo. African themes were sources of both pride and embarrassment to the nation. Africanisms were powerful icons to rally behind while simultaneously reminding the world of a shameful cultural legacy.
Above is a video performance by Ignacio Villa who came to symbolize the afrocubanismo period for the Cuban public. He is the only dark-skinned Afro-Cuban to achieve recognition as a performer of afrocubanista salon repertory and compose these works himself. Similar to Louis Armstrong in the U.S., Villa was a black crossover figure. He grew up surrounded by traditional Afrocuban culture, but he studied European art music as well. He became famous for interpreting songs of the white middle class that depicted black street culture. His performances reflect the complexities of afrocubanismo. His music shows the tension between racism, populism, and elitism that existed in the Cuban works of this period. Rumba music also was important for Afro-Cubano musical expression.
Conservatory trained
pianist and afrointerpreter Ignacio Villa ("Bola de Nieve"), 1936. Museo Nacional de la Música.
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Stage rumba dancers René (Rivero) and Estela (Ramona Ajón)
performing with the Septeto Nacional, 1933 ). Lázaro Herrera collection.
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Rumbas, congas, pregones, and guarachas of the comic theater provided a powerful model for artists who desired to reaffirm themselves and their cultural heritage symbolically. The ‘jazz craze’ and the popularity abroad of other forms of working class expression (e.g. tango) also added impetus to the afrocubanismo movement.
Afro-Cuban Experience during Revolution
The Cuban Revolution of 1952 was just the beginning for the development of Cuban society. After Castro's takeover, he made many changes to attempt to improve Cuban society in the way that he thought was best.
Prostitution was rife in Cuba, particularly in the casinos and tourist industry owned by and catering to Americans, so Cuba herself was formerly prostituted first to Spain and then to the United States. The revolution, so the narrative unfolds, had rescued her and returned her honor, an act envinced by the actual eradication of prostitution in Cuba.
“ not only did they appropriate our natural resources, our primary industries and all they produced in service of their economic interests, but they developed prostitution in our country at an incredible scale.
Suffice to say because of these social conditions and the corruption created by imperialism, and more importantly because of hunger and misery, tens and tens of thousands of women felt obligated to live from prostitution.” - Fidel castro 1971
The revolutionary program focused on incorporating women into the paid labor force. The idea of a "new Cuban woman" was to be a worker, mother, and activist to evolve from the housewife, pre-revolutionary woman, and the prostitute. Precisely because the eradication of prostitution was hailed as one of the great achievements for women in the early years after the Revolution, the figure of the prostitute came to symbolize the break from the pre-revolutionary past and the revolutionary regime’s commitment to women.
Those very women who might have otherwise made their living selling sex had radically new social possibilities in the 1960s and 1970s: access to full employment, education, public health, and equal rights with men under the law. Their former plight had become a symbol of the nation’s exploitation, and their rehabilitation seemed to embody the ‘triumph’ of the revolution over its colonial and neocolonial past. With the Revolution, former prostitutes, most of whom were Afro-Cuban, were given opportunities that did not exist for them previously.
Those very women who might have otherwise made their living selling sex had radically new social possibilities in the 1960s and 1970s: access to full employment, education, public health, and equal rights with men under the law. Their former plight had become a symbol of the nation’s exploitation, and their rehabilitation seemed to embody the ‘triumph’ of the revolution over its colonial and neocolonial past. With the Revolution, former prostitutes, most of whom were Afro-Cuban, were given opportunities that did not exist for them previously.
“When we understood that everything really was different, many of us joined the process fully. Not out of resentment nor from an act of consciousness in the face of the enormous exploitation of which we were victims, but for something more vital, more important: to prevent that life from continuing, that in the future, there would be no young women who would endure the human humiliations and degradations that we knew” -former prostitute as quoted in recuerdos secretos
Tomas Fernandez Robaina's Recuerdos Secretos de dos mujeres publicas (Secret Memories of Two Public Women) offers testimonials of two former prostitutes after the Revolution in the working class barrios of Havana. This testimonio gives the reader a complex view of Cuban society that is not often written about. The mediated voices of Violeta and Consuelo are valuable evidence of the everyday lives of prostitutes and their urban working-class communities in early-to-mid-twentieth century, evidence which must be read in conjunction with other sources.
The public narrative of prostitution in pre-revolutionary Cuba contradicted with this testimonio. Prostitutes were seen as all the same, but Recuerdos showed that each of the women were individuals with various motivations for their involvement in prostitution. The profession was seen as pure exploitation of women, but some women were able to develop strategies to better conduct their business. Also, the seemingly easy solution of ending prostituion was more complicated than the historical records show.
The success of the revolution was repeatedly imagined as a steady, forward moving progression over and beyond the colonial and capitalist obstacles of the past and prostitution was one of these obstacles.
The public narrative of prostitution in pre-revolutionary Cuba contradicted with this testimonio. Prostitutes were seen as all the same, but Recuerdos showed that each of the women were individuals with various motivations for their involvement in prostitution. The profession was seen as pure exploitation of women, but some women were able to develop strategies to better conduct their business. Also, the seemingly easy solution of ending prostituion was more complicated than the historical records show.
The success of the revolution was repeatedly imagined as a steady, forward moving progression over and beyond the colonial and capitalist obstacles of the past and prostitution was one of these obstacles.
“Before I could understand why a woman would sleep with a man for money, whether you liked him or not, but, now? Not now. We all left that business when we were given the chance. For some the change wasn’t easy, especially for the older women. First I went to a school, and later I started working in the office of a stocking factory. For the first time in my life I felt like a person, not a thing. What I would have given so that that had happened when I was ten or fifteen! I wouldn’t have to be hiding the past from my children” - Violeta in recuerdos
Throughout the late 1800s and the 1900s, Cuban society underwent many changes that forced its people to develop a better idea of who they were as a people. The Cuban Revolution of 1959 had, even more radically than the Wars of Independence of 1895-98, taken up the cause of equality of the "races."
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Above is a clip from Segio Giral's El Otro Francisco from youtube.
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El Otro Francisco, directed by Afro-Cuban Sergio Giral in 1975, gives more insight on the experiences of Afro-Cuban slaves. Afro-Cubans historically have resisted both slavery and Spanish rule. But their stories have rarely been told accurately. Giral strove to use historical facts with artistic flair.
Read more: http://www.filmreference.com/Films-Or-Pi/El-Otro-Francisco.html#ixzz3u80JrMa8 |
Smoking habanera figurines in an Old Havana marketplace. Photo: Diana Taylor 1990s (found in Lane document)
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The smoking habanera was an iconic image from Cuba’s nineteenth-century colonial landscape as depicted through the works of the period’s foremost illustrator, Víctor Patrício Landaluze (see Artistic Depictions section at the top of the page). Her curious return during the Special Period after the Revolution calls on other ways of understanding the movement, pace, and progress of national time: she does so by illuminating not only the insistent presence of a colonial past shaped by slavery, but also the gendered and racial underpinnings of the triumphalist narrative of the Revolution itself.
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Click the button below to watch a documentary that details the experiences of Alberto Jones.
Present Day Views of Race
"There was a moment when the Cuban government said that it was not good to talk about racism, so many Cubans have the sense that there is no racism in Cuba. But when you start to talk to people, you see that there is. I can remember when I was student. Every day, at least three times, the police stopped me on the street. One time I was with a friend in the street drinking beer and a patrol car came and asked for my ID. I remember Pedro said, “Why not me?” Pedro was a white. He was like “Why not me? We are doing the same thing in the park.” I think it was because I was seen as a danger. Also you can see racism in the way we talk. In Cuba, the phrases used in popular culture are really, really racist—the way we talk about the hair, about the skin, about relationships. And actually the funny thing, the worst thing, is that people don’t mean it. They can say the worst thing in the world, but they say, “I don’t mean to be rude.” It’s cultural.”- Alejandro de la Fuente in Race and Racism in Cuban Art
"There was a moment when the Cuban government said that it was not good to talk about racism, so many Cubans have the sense that there is no racism in Cuba. But when you start to talk to people, you see that there is. I can remember when I was student. Every day, at least three times, the police stopped me on the street. One time I was with a friend in the street drinking beer and a patrol car came and asked for my ID. I remember Pedro said, “Why not me?” Pedro was a white. He was like “Why not me? We are doing the same thing in the park.” I think it was because I was seen as a danger. Also you can see racism in the way we talk. In Cuba, the phrases used in popular culture are really, really racist—the way we talk about the hair, about the skin, about relationships. And actually the funny thing, the worst thing, is that people don’t mean it. They can say the worst thing in the world, but they say, “I don’t mean to be rude.” It’s cultural.”- Alejandro de la Fuente in Race and Racism in Cuban Art
