We were lucky enough to be in La Habana for the 12th annual Biennial, a multi-week, bi-annual celebration of art in Havana. My last full day in Cuba, I took a stroll by myself down the Malecon, from Vedado to Habana Vieja. As part of the Biennial, there was a series of temporarily installed “public art” pieces.
They start just after the United States Interests Section, since one is not allowed to congregate along this part of the Malecon—You must keep moving and, by the way, you may not walk on the interests section’s side of the block.
I was rather underwhelmed by many of the pieces. Many were not accompanied by titles, and nearly all did not have any sort of description. This lead me to think about the purpose of public art, and how accessible it should be. These are not permanent pieces, and they are part of a public arts festival, but for those without any experience in the arts, a description should be included.
Though I have some experience in the arts, I couldn’t understand many pieces without a description. I found many of the pieces underwhelming. A few served only as just aesthetically pleasing additions to the usually bleak concrete. I couldn’t understand what the artists intentions were because there was no context.
I began to consider some general questions about public art. Should public art just be a space for artists to present work, or should it serve the public? Should it represent universal, or shared values held by a community or majority, or provoke conversation?
I was interested in the most experiential pieces of Art. The first I encountered forced the pedestrian to experience it. One could either step over crates that continued from the sea to the street, or walk through the maze-like structure.
Perhaps my favorite piece was a fake-beach front designed by “”. La Habana doesn’t have any sandy beaches; one must travel slightly out of the city to find one. Though all beaches in Cuba are public, hotels cannot reserve spaces on beaches for guests, the chairs usually cost 3 dollars. Here, any spectator can rest in the sun or shade on plastic white chairs. Perhaps it was a statement on tourism and its moral implications, or on public space versus private space in the city.
Should public art be designed to remain for decades, like the monuments to Latin American Presidents on Calle G, representing long-term social values of society? Or should it be like the sandy beach, a temporary statement about contemporary conditions?
Art has been a central component of my experience in Havana. Concerts cost just one or two US dollars, museums and film just a couple of United States cents. And, since the program is synced to end after the first week of the Biennial, I was able to see the work of artists around the world.