I have recently come back from a trip to Cuba, which was a truly fascinating experience. Havana especially was remarkable, but I have to confess that I didn't feel quite the way I had expected about it. Friends who had been there were hugely complementary of the atmosphere and the culture, but my experiences of the city were quite different. I spent 4 days photographing various elements of the city, including the people, the buildings, the cars (very cliched, I know) and for a while I couldn't quite put a finger on why I felt a certain negativity, until I happened upon a scene outside an old cinema that had the title 'Elegy' written on the hoarding, with a man sweeping up below it. That was it! The city felt like an elegy; a lament for the dead. It seemed to me as though Havana was in mourning; the buildings crumbling, the cars coughing and spluttering and the people repressed and desperate for air, for life. I may be wrong, and as a tourist it is so difficult to see beneath the surface, but Havana felt like its soul had been taken and it was waiting (longing) for happiness to arrive.
Elegy to Havana
I have recently come back from a trip to Cuba, which was a truly fascinating experience. Havana especially was remarkable, but I have to confess that I didn't feel quite the way I had expected about it. Friends who had been there were hugely complementary of the atmosphere and the culture, but my experiences of the city were quite different. I spent 4 days photographing various elements of the city, including the people, the buildings, the cars (very cliched, I know) and for a while I couldn't quite put a finger on why I felt a certain negativity, until I happened upon a scene outside an old cinema that had the title 'Elegy' written on the hoarding, with a man sweeping up below it. That was it! The city felt like an elegy; a lament for the dead. It seemed to me as though Havana was in mourning; the buildings crumbling, the cars coughing and spluttering and the people repressed and desperate for air, for life. I may be wrong, and as a tourist it is so difficult to see beneath the surface, but Havana felt like its soul had been taken and it was waiting (longing) for happiness to arrive.