Design & Daiquiris: Adventures in La Habana
The following is an account of Emily Curtis’s experience as a GDC Student accompanying the BC delegation to Havana, Cuba for the Icograda World Design Congress in October, 2007.
I’m always slightly nervous when flying, but as I sat on a plane bound for the ICOGRADA World Design Congress in Havana, Cuba, my palms were especially clammy. I guess this extra bit of anxiety could be chalked up to the fact that I was about to embark on a potentially career-defining adventure to a developing country with a group of relative strangers to meet the who’s who of graphic design. Did I mention that I don’t speak any Spanish?
This nervous apprehension, however, was far outweighed by a mix of excitement, anticipation, potentiality, and visions of mojitos being enjoyed from a lawnchair on the beach. As we took off, I gritted my teeth, assumed a death-grip on the armrests, and escaped to the island paradise in my mind. Two airports, twelve hours, and several bouts of turbulence later, we touched down in the land of sunshine and salsa, cigars and classic cars, palm trees and propaganda posters. Bienvenido a Cuba!
After a relatively smooth, albeit intimidating, trip through immigration, followed by a very necessary change into t-shirts and flip-flops, we were ready to go. With all eight members of our delegation and our luggage loaded into a single taxi, our adventure began.
My first impression of Cuba: traffic is crazy and drivers are crazier! The roads are lined sporadically, there is no obvious wayfinding system, and the infamous classic cars spew black exhaust. The roadsides are scattered with all matter of broken down vehicles in various stages of repair (or disrepair), while would-be passengers wait patiently on the curb. Horns blare everywhere and are used to communicate everything from “Passing on your left” to “Don’t cross the road now, you crazy gringo!” On our short trip from the airport to our accommodations, we had at least three close calls, including (very) nearly running over a pedestrian. Nothing out of the ordinary for our driver, apparently. Suddenly the commute into Vancouver on a Friday afternoon doesn’t seem so bad!
This sort of white-knuckle driving would typically evoke mild hyperventilation, but I was thankfully too distracted by the unique beauty of the city to really take notice. As we careened through the narrow streets and zipped in and out of round-abouts, we passed statue-lined boulevards and colourful Viva la Revolución billboards; beautifully restored museums and abandoned stadiums; manicured gardens and crumbling walls. In it’s heyday, Havana must have been truly spectacular, but today the city seems to be trapped in a sort of perpetual state of decay as residents struggle to keep up with the damaging effects of time, wind, sand, and saltwater. Rather than detracting from the city’s appeal, however, the elements have worked to create a strangely beautiful and captivating quality. Every building is unique and lovingly maintained. If Havana doesn’t inspire you to take hundreds of photographs, you don’t deserve to own a camera.
Fortunately, we managed to reach our destination in one piece. I knew we going to be staying in a sort of Cuban “B&B” or home-stay known as a casa particular, but as we pulled up to the tired-looking apartment we would be calling home I was a little taken aback. My previous travel experience was not extensive and I had never stayed anywhere except for a hotel (unless you count camping), so the prospect of staying in a real Cuban home with a Cuban family was slightly intimidating, but exciting. As we piled into the archaic elevator (which, we later learned, was temperamental at best), I began to get a sense of the level of cultural immersion we would be experiencing (ie: total).
My suspicions were confirmed as we were introduced to our host family: they spoke no English. This was going to be an interesting ten days! Despite these superficial differences, our rooms were comfortable and clean, while our hosts were warm and welcoming. They made every effort to make us feel at home. By the end of our stay we had even developed a rudimentary mix of “Spanglish” and gestures that allowed us to communicate quite freely.
In all the excitement of arriving, I had almost forgot the purpose of our visit: we had a conference to attend! Bright and early the next morning we were back in another crazy taxi and off to the Palacio de Convenciones. As its rather royal-sounding name would suggest, the venue for this year’s congress was spectacular. With floor-to-ceiling windows, huge open-concept rooms, and modern facilities (a luxury, in Cuba), it was the perfect location for such a monumental meeting of minds.
Each day we had the privilege to listen to and learn from some of the world’s most respected designers, while the evenings’ events provided valuable cultural context. To be included in such an intimate gathering with design celebrities such as Paula Scher, Victor Casuas, and Wally Olins was an experience I will not soon forget. On more than one occasion, I found myself pondering whether it would be considered strange to start asking for autographs…
Though the speakers were outstanding and the wide variety of presentation topics and styles was very interesting, I found I drew the most value from mingling with fellow attendees. With over 52 countries represented at the congress, it was an prime opportunity to meet like-minded individuals with whom to discuss design from a global perspective. Being able to approach a fellow attendee at random and confidently strike up a conversation, knowing that you at least have design in common, was a wonderful experience.
This sense of approachability was not limited to the congress: nearly everyone we encountered during our stay in Havana was very friendly, generous, and genuinely interested in getting to know us. Cab drivers, servers, and sometimes even just locals on the street were generally very good-natured and outgoing. I found it amazing that people with so comparatively little were so happy, proud, and resourceful. It was very humbling.
Wherever we went we encountered people who truly loved their city and eagerly offered to show us to the best attractions, beaches, paladares (Cuban homes licensed to serve food to small groups of people) or even just a good time. For example, one night when we were out enjoying some live music, a (very) attractive young Cuban guy insisted that he taught me to dance salsa. Twist my rubber arm…
Speaking of dancing: artistic expression, no matter the medium, seems to be an inherent ability for the vast majority of Cubans. Not to be excluded, Cuban designers channel this unaffected creativity and seemingly unlimited resourcefulness into the production of striking and memorable communication design pieces.
Cuban designers are perhaps best known for producing beautiful posters; rather ironically, however, the only place I really saw any was in the numerous galleries we visited. Although their bold, humanistic quality was undoubtably inspiring (not to mention a much-needed reminder that great design is possible to create sans-Creative Suite), I can only appreciate so many posters at once. And, after about 200, my quota was more than met. So, I shifted my attention to “found design” instead. Among the most memorable items uncovered in this hunt for hidden gems included an entire neighbourhood painted with vibrant Afro-Cuban patterns, a “no trumpets” sign, a wrought-iron monogram, an ambitiously translated menu offering “Gordon Blue,” and a freshly painted propaganda billboard, bright against the fading facade of the surrounding city.
There are some things you just can’t say with a poster.
Although Cuban culture is definitely not lacking in flavour, the food unfortunately is. I had been warned that Cuba is not a destination for “foodies,” but I’m generally not a picky eater, so I wasn’t too concerned; but, after ten days of pork, rice, beans, chicken, beans, bread, beans, rice, pork, fish, beans, rice, bread, pork and beans, I was dying for a salad… and sushi… and pizza. Where drinks are concerned, however, I have no criticism. I love rum, and those Cubans sure know how to make a mean cocktail. I’m a little disappointed, though, because now that I’ve had the genuine article, a Canadian rum and Coke (or Cuba libre) will never be as good.
All in all, I suppose this is a small price to pay for a wonderfully rewarding trip. Being totally immersed in a foreign culture was a new experience for me and proved to be exactly the change of pace that I felt I needed to rekindle my passion for design and photography.
My perception of design was enhanced not only though the wealth of influential designers in attendance at the conference, but also from the city itself. Memories of the colours, textures, sights, and sounds of Havana encourage me to draw inspiration from a broader range of sources.
Likewise, the simplistic beauty of Cuban design has influenced my personal approach by reinforcing that the best way to start any project is with a pencil and paper, and that the simplest solution is often the most effective.
Perhaps most importantly, this trip was a firm reminder of how easy it is to take the little things in life for granted. It sounds cliche, I know, but I have most certainly gained a new appreciation for toilet paper and Google! I now view the world from a fresh perspective that I know will influence both my life, and my work, for years to come.
Without the generous support of individuals and organizations such as ICOGRADA and the GDC, I would never have had the honour and privilege to participate in such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I would like to take this opportunity to sincerely thank everyone involved in making this trip possible; my Cuban experience has provided me with inspiration, knowledge, and memories that will stay with me forever. Muchos gracias.
And, in the end, I managed to learn a little Spanish! Viva Cuba!
Click here to view Emily’s complete set of photos from Cuba
