By Tiago Botelho
Anyone who has been to the capital of Cuba knows that the city is overflowing with attractions, whether due to the monumentality of the colonial buildings, or the unusual life in the old mansions, or the mass population that goes to the streets for dancing, playing music and produce art.
One of the most traditional places is the ‘Prado Promenade’, a promenade that runs from the seafront to the heart of Havana. Built in 1772, the boardwalk holds a fair of artists, salsa classes, musicians and, of course, ballet classes and physical education for children that lives in Cuba.
When I was in the Prado, I was immediately enchanted by a very nice lady named Felipa, a painter with brightly colored brush strokes and happy figures clustered among Havana’s many icons. We talked a little and exchanged drawings. We exchanged one of my Sea Beings with her beautiful drawing bird named Tocororo, which is a symbol of the Cuban nation.
I ended up buying one of her paintings, depicting a revelry of smiling dolls among cannons, dolphins, roosters and palm trees. A Cuban micro-cosmos crystallized in an admirably modern style for a lady of such an advanced age that still makes me wonder about the boundaries between Naive and Grafitti art. Are they really so far?
Mrs Felipa shows that no.
