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The Nature of Abstraction: Interview with Carlos García de la Nuez
Within the vast collection of the National Museum of Fine Arts of Havana is an astonishing breadth of work by some of Cuba’s greatest artists. This includes works by Carlos García de la Nuez, who recently visited Hong Kong for a solo show at Sin Sin Fine Art. Discussing his body of work with ArtAsiaPacific, he was modest about his experiences of working for many years amongst abstract expressionists in America and Russia. His return to living between Mexico and Cuba, interjected by frequent travels for exhibitions and art fairs, brought our conversation to the bright future of Cuban art. From the focus of exhibitions such as Solomon R. Guggenheim’s “Under the Same Sun: Art from Latin-America Today” (2014), to the growth of art fairs such as Pinta in London and Miami, the artist discussed his enduring passion for painting in a world dominated by new media and installations. Speaking animatedly at Sin Sin Fine Art, García has the vigor and excitement of an artist who is not slowing down.
After his first taste of Hong Kong dumplings, García was ready for his opening night in the city. We sat down and discussed our experiences of Cuban culture, the changing face of the art market and the difficulty of developing gestural, abstract painting as a contemporary artist.
What are your thoughts about Asian art? Do you feel an affinity to art from this region?
I’m very excited to be here. Although I don’t know a great deal about Chinese or Indonesian artists, I am beginning to learn. Certainly I am very impressed by the rich history and new creativity occurring here. When I learned about having a show here, and I started to look at the region, the artists and the scene, I became almost nervous, because it is such a hub with new attitudes. In particular, the purity of Asian art has surprised me—it is very sincere, especially in comparison to the rest of the world. When I think of the new globalization and influence of major fairs like Art Basel in Hong Kong, I must admit, it can make me a little uneasy. But I am so pleased to find that the artistic movement here is very colorful and also has this unique purity, which is particularly impressive.
I am immediately struck by the vibrancy of color in your body of work at Sin Sin; a bright use of primary colors is a departure from your usual, natural, muted tones.
I’m sure that these colors will appeal to many people. People say to me, “Carlos, the color is like a theme in your work!” I do love to try out one bold color, shading and relation between tone and shapes. For me everything is working for the idea—the texture, medium and meaning are most important. For some artists, painting is ancient, they’re now using video and installations, and I had to think about this seriously many years ago and make the decision that I love painting.
I love art and so I appreciate and enjoy contemporary mediums like video, too, but for me it is all painting. Color can change a painting completely; perhaps it helps bring excitement. But I feel it is the painting and the idea which are the most important. So colors are not as influential as the act itself. In the academic studios where I learned, painting was always the way.
Though you have also worked in silkscreen, engravings and recently sculpture, should we expect to see any more 3D works from you?
You will see there is texture and gestural movement in these paintings, which makes them fairly tactile. I made some sculptures as part of my “El Jardin” (2012) exhibition [in Mexico], but for me it can be difficult conceptually. The ideas and form must meet in one special place, and fit a chosen space. My work is so specific that I need to know exactly where it will be and create the idea from there. It is quite similar to painting, but when I work with paint I have an idea and then can create the frame and the canvas to fit what I imagine. In sculpture, it is quite different.
Early in your career, as part of the “4×4” show in 1982, you exhibited drawings and paintings in the neo-figurative style. Upon leaving Cuba, a clear turn to abstraction occurred. What influenced this turn?
I have been in this line of work for 35 years and it was only for the first five that I worked in a figurative way, because abstraction was always there for me. When I was young I really loved science; I thought I would continue in the studies of science. Maybe there was a conflict between spiritual and scientific phenomena, and abstract art was a way of translating this. All I know is I cannot escape it. The reality for me is abstraction.
During your travels, you came into close contact with many emerging abstract movements in America and Europe. How did this influence you?
I think the entire movement of abstraction was very important and influential on Cuban artists following World War II. When I met people from the New York school and European painters in their 50s and 60s, I developed all my tools by watching how they worked. My experiences and understanding are very much informed by geometric styles, abstraction and even expressionism.
Titles and meaning have always been important to you, and I’m also seeing more use of text emerging in your work. What does this shift mean for you?
This text is very much borrowed from the post-conceptualist movement, because I want to explain everything and be very clear with the viewer. I think in the past people have been preoccupied with the gestural nature and abstraction of my work, and of course that is my style, but I’d like this exhibition to reveal more. I feel there are three ways to prepare meaning—symbolism, representation and abstraction—all of which come together to say something specific.
Abstraction may be the style, but the idea can be something totally different. I think it is crazy, in museums, when they segregate and divide; abstract art is lumped together as if it all has the same meaning, purely because of aesthetics. I can’t help but create a dialog that is direct, like in Seven Conversations (2016). It is very much part of my thought process at this time. I’m in a mature stage in my career, which makes me increasingly aware of how we have elements beyond our control in power, politics and the market.
Are you re-engaging political ideas in your work, even though you once avoided them?
I am a very political guy. I cannot ignore political ideas and sometimes they must find their way into my work. I think this discussion, the text and dialogue emerging through titles in my work shows this. I put so much work into each painting so you will find that there is that one frame for one canvas for one idea, and I think this is powerful.
In the past, you discussed the influence of books and poetry on your work. How do you feel about this now?
People are so afraid of poetry now. The children are always on their phones; maybe they are engaging in a new visual culture of imagery and media, but I think it is so important to have other forms of creative expression or else we will lose them, and this worries me. Even the style of painting and contemporary art is becoming so direct. For me, poetry is such a beautiful way of displaying humanity and our knowledge, and I try to use elements of poetry in my art.
You now live between Cuba and Mexico. What do you think is in store for Cuban art in the future?
I’ve felt that living abroad has allowed me to participate in the other side of the conversation about the socio-political situation in Cuba, because it has not always been easy for artists there in the past. Yet you will find so many great artists there. Perhaps as an island it condenses creativity and encourages interchange between the artists. Some of artists I have taught are now doing so well—Carlos Garaicoa and Los Carpinteros are on the right path. I think that if Cuba has this important change, if these conversations between Castro and Obama continue, it could be a good thing for the art market, for both artists and collectors, because we can have change and we can have support.
What shall we expect next from you? Perhaps more travels or a return to Asia?
At first I thought, “What am I doing here? Why are these people interested in me?” But this is the way now and I find it such a great thing that people here know what happened and is happening in Latin America, and are interested in where I am from. I’ll be back here in March for Art Central. For now, I will participate in the Pinta Miami. I’ve participated in four biennales in Cuba and all of these fairs are really becoming important for the Latin American region.
“Cardinals” is on view at Sin Sin Fine Art, Hong Kong, until November 11, 2016.