Havana, Cuba
Top of the first inning of the Cuban World Series and the home team was already down 11-0. You can see it in their faces. I left during the third inning, when the score was even worse, but the crowd stayed to support their team. A microcosm of life in Cuba. The good news for me was that it cost only a few dollars for entry with a seat behind home plate. The fans paid even less, one of the factors likely contributing to the score.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Cienfeugos, Cuba
Part of the Cuba series. Ever on the hunt for an exciting/emotional scene to capture these entertainers were serenading a group of tourists more interested in their picnic lunch and rum when the bass player gave me the evil eye for interrupting his performance.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Cuba
While waiting for others to board our tour bus after visiting the national park I spotted this local gatherer and his Quixote-like steed along the same road. This was obviously not the first time along this road for the vaquero or the horse. The heat and humidity left me to wonder who was worse for the wear, them or me.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Havana, Cuba
He was one of the few individuals I saw working to repair the decrepit structures in which people live and work throughout Havana. During the period I observed him he spent more time talking to his coworker and applying the plaster to his clothing than to the needy walls making me better appreciate the difficulty of his task.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Trinidad, Cuba
There is no shortage of subject matter in Cuba. Just another day for this fellow who alternated between his choice of addictions while his companion could care less.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag

Havana, Cuba
Upon seeing this painting James Hernandez, 1^st generation Cuban American and our guide for a subsequent trip in the Everglades, said: “My parents know this guy”. Apparently he has played at the same spot in Havana for many years. The world continues to shrink.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Trinidad, Cuba
Like kids would anywhere, this group chose to mug for the camera after completion of their rehearsal for the night’s upcoming celebrations. Unfortunately it rained, the celebration of Trinidad’s 500^th birthday was canceled and we never met again. But their effort was sincere.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Havana, Cuba
They all seem to work so hard to barely get by, having to lead lives of limited or false hope based on a diet of propaganda and what remains at the end of a day’s toil.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Cienfuegos, Cuba
Of all my work I may be the proudest of this portrait. A woman in her mid-nineties, Rennie was deaf but enjoyed the vibrations of music. While my tour group surveyed the art workshop operated by her grandchildren, I became bored and returned to the street turning back to see the grandmother emerging through the doorway. After I captured the moment I was coaxed into singing for her. Arm in arm we swayed on the sidewalk to L.O.V.E. as the cameras flashed around us. I completed the painting after she passed but was able to deliver a print of the work to her family. A few weeks later I was rewarded with a photo of her grandchildren displaying the print together in the same art workshop I visited in Cienfuegos. A Cuban moment that has so much meaning to me.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.

Havana, Cuba
There was no match in progress when we returned to the former opulent, Spanish style estate-like home in central Havana with its broken wrought iron, decaying and missing ceramic tile, and original central courtyard now converted into a boxing ring. But the watchman, a retired heavy weight whose heyday was documented in an old newspaper clipping pinned to the bulletin board over his entryway desk, welcomed us and offered to don the gloves and pose for our photos ultimately for a few pesos. Many months later while on a people mover in the Hong Kong airport I was stunned to see a life size photo of the same retiree along a wall intended to entertain passersby between flights, with the same pose, same gloves and clothes, and same demeanor. Seeing him again made me feel as though my own work had been devalued somehow until I realized our circumstances would never be comparable.

The Print: 10 x 15 image on an archival cotton rag.