“Let There Be Light! And the Light… Went Out”
The Garden of Affections, a museum of odds and ends created by Hector Pascual Gallo a Cuban barber turned diplomat and spy.
By Jose Lassa & Juan Izquierdo (14ymedio)
HAVANA TIMES – “An interesting and different kind of museum, created from throwaway objects transformed into beautiful sculptures that transmit messages full of moral lessons”. EcuRed’s [’Cuba’s Wikipedia’] perhaps rather simple definition, is, in a way, less eloquent than the unofficial names for the place it describes: The Museum of Junk, or Garden of the Passions. Also, we have: The Scrap Metal Gallery, or Gallo’s [’Cockerel’s’] Henhouse, along with many other variations on the name for the place created by Héctor Pascual Gallo, in the Alamar district on the east side of Havana.
What’s significant is that EcuRed doesn’t even tell its readers who Gallo was – they have deleted the page which described the man who informed Fidel Castro – or at least so the legend goes – where Cuban exiles were going to land during the Bay of Pigs invasion. Born in Havana in 1924, he was a barber, a diplomat, a spy and an artist, and he died in 2020.
After a whole lifetime – or several lifetimes, as he used to say – Gallo turned up in Alamar and began, aged over 80, a career in culture. One enormous and somewhat ghostly portrait of him is hung above the terrace inside the Garden. Another, signed by the Belgian artist Denis Meyer in 2019, is similarly fantasmagorical. Both represent Gallo as a sort of god of the place. And, in effect, it is his moral lessons – his passions – which populate the place.
“I love white coffee more than anything else. Anything? Yes!”, says one of his commandments. “It’s to know how and to be able to feed yourself”; “With time, beauty fades, but charm is accentuated”; “Putting something off doesn’t resolve it”; “Doing silly things doesn’t make you silly, unless it’s for more than 24 times a second (I was free for a minute)”. Wisdom, reflections, commentary, fragments, doubts: all written on bits of tin or wood and accompanied by arrows to keep you reading.
The most important thing about the Garden, however, is that it has the power to silence. In the land of rubbish tips, Gallo is the great organiser of rubbish, to which he attributes meaning, and history. The history of Cuba, no less. A mountain of cash registers, destroyed by rust, is the best symbol of the economic sinking of the country. A kind of Nganga cauldron, complete with forks and shells, recalls the incurable hunger of the Cuban people. One sign reads: “A verb most often used: resolve it. An expression most often heard: it’s not easy”.
Picturesque and with an overall rusty brown hue, the Garden bursts its way into the daily life of Alamar. It’s impossible not to see it or hold an opinion about Gallo and his legend. No one knows exactly what to call the place, says Gertrudis, who lives close to the building with the giant portrait of the artist.
“They used to call it the Park of Junk. Perhaps it was after Gallo died that they named it Garden of the Passions. People know this street as Junk Street and everyone knows where it is”, she explains.
Ricardo, another person who grew up amongst Gallo’s trash, confirmed Gertrudis’s geographic reference: “Yes, they’d say ’Junk Street’. It’s part of his garden, where he turned all of his rubbish into a kind of love. Rubbish into Art. His granddaughter was at school with me actually. This part here is the old stock. Then it gets more organized as more objects were found. He was a journalist as well. A supercool old guy”.
For Gertrudis, a teacher who has lived in Alamar for years but has never actually been inside the Garden, the installation is connected with the so-called ’brut’ or ’deviant’ art movement. In fact, a number of works by Cubans who identify themselves as practitioners of this movement (one which might be defined as art created by people who aren’t, strictly speaking, artists), among them various works by Gallo, are being shown in Lausanne, Switzerland, this month.
“I find this kind of art quite interesting”, says Gertrudis. “I don’t know to what extent the people who create it have any artistic training, but yeah, it seems a pretty genuine movement to me. The materials they use are almost always re-used or recycled”.
On the question of what the Garden actually represents, Gertrudis sums it up in one expression: “Everyday objects which hold in themselves a sense of art”. “Gallo transformed a space which, in itself, is quite boring. Alamar as a place is rather monotonous at times, and the idea of breaking with this physicality, with this architecturally ordered space – where, above all, there aren’t even any parks or other outstanding places either – is a great proposition, and its courage is rooted precisely in this”.
“Let there be light!: And the light… (went out)”, wrote Gallo on a signboard from 1993. More than 30 years have passed and the work appears just as fresh now as it did in the Special Period. At that time, forgotten by the regime which he had served, and apparently under Castro’s radar, Gallo made a place of creation out of poverty itself.
The goal is: to survive in this life, and in the next. “The difference between Goya and Gallo is just spelling”, says one of his aphorisms. “One is immortal, and the other is unmortal”.
Translated by Ricardo Recluso for Translating Cuba.