BeautifulMag Interview | Kevin Slack Mi Tierra, vol.2

THE SMELL OF DIESEL RISING OFF THE CITY, THE SALT PUSHED IN BY THE TRADEWINDS, MUSIC EVERYWHERE, SALSA, BOLEROS, AND THE THEATER, AMIDST THE BEAUTIFUL ARCHITECTURE, THE RUINS, THE CLASSIC CARS, THE LIVING VIBRANT THRUMMING THEATER OF LA HABANA. CUBA AND HAVANA IS ALL THAT. AND THAN THERE ARE THE BOYS, THE BEAUTIFUL YOUNG MEN OF HAVANA.

Last week we introduced you to Kevin Slack, born Canadian, but Cuba at heart. Kevin lost his heart to the beauty of Cuba and its capital city Havana and knows as no other how to capture that timeless atmosphere with his camera. In the first part of Kevin’s interview last week Thursday, you could have read all about Kevin’s life before he actually set floor on Cuban soil for the first time. Today we will bring you the last part of the entertaining conversation we had with this brilliant photographer. And while we continue showing Kevin’s portraits of Cuba and the boys from Havana, today he will also tell us about his passion for the tropical island and its inhabitants.

Kevin, let’s talk a bit about Cuba… what is it that attracts you so much in this island?
Kevin: The first time we went to Cuba, my partner and I, in 2001, we went to a Varadero resort. After three days of beaches and free drinks, I was bored out of my mind and tired of meeting Canadians. We got on a bus and went to Havana. It’s a long nearly empty highway.  At about three hours, the bus goes down a slope and under a tunnel. In the dark of the tunnel, suddenly expectant, I opened wide the little curtains on the window. We rose up, into daylight, into old crumbling Spanish architecture, into the heart of Havana. It was stunning. It was the moment Dorothy opens the sepia-coloured door. It was a dream place. We have gone back since then perhaps ten or twelve times and I am still in love. It’s earthy and tawdry and delicious. Havana is like an open set. It’s one big love affair and I cannot speak about it without stars in my eyes and nostalgia choking my voice. Cuba is my magic charm. Ah, all the talkers and singers and lovers and drinkers and trumpet-players, the lusty bolero, the rumba seduction, the beautiful cacophony. Cuba is, in some ways, so isolated, so exiled, so separate. It is so thoroughly other-worldly.

You have developed quite a portfolio with Cuban subjects, varying from street scenes, landscapes to beautiful men. What is your favorite subject to shoot there?
Kevin: You can’t really go wrong. The street scenes are so lovely because they are so authentic. And they are vibrant and rich, sometimes without really trying. And I love photographing children, especially in Cuba. Children are open-hearted and open-faced. And eager to please. And you can capture such beautiful moments of honesty. That doesn’t really work here. I’d be too afraid to photograph children in Canada. But in the end I might go with the shallow answer. I love the men in Cuba. And I love to photograph the Cuban men. I love photographing Cuban men naturally, whether working in the streets or playing ball. But I also love setting up a shoot which is a completely different experience.

So, let’s talk about the boys…
Kevin: Ah, the boys. They are fierce and raw. And sexuality is so fluid and, also, incidental. From my experience they don’t need or want labels and names and categories and I love that. I’ve had parties with what we might insist on calling straight and gay and bisexual boys all together and they all blend beautifully together and nobody cares about any of that. And to me it seems like they’ve got everything just right. Maybe in our culture, the names of things distinguish and separate people too much.

They are too beautiful. The way they walk, the way they talk, makes my heart rumble. Such confidence, such force. None of my models are models otherwise. They are boys I have plucked from the street, or friends of friends. And they are, they are self-possessed without being self-aware. They open themselves up to me and to the camera. I’ve worked with model models before. I will take a Cuban boy any day.

We always stay in this lovely private house with a Cuban couple. The parade of boys I have coming through that place must get the neighbors to talking. And just down the street there is this military installation. It is a baffling place. “Do not ask why,” a Cuban friend advised when I asked repeatedly about it. “This is Cuba. There is no why.” This place is carved two or three stories down into the earth and on the other side of a dilapidated fence. There is always a security guard at any time of day or night. And beyond the fence and down the hill, is a small dormitory and at any time of day, boy soldiers usually dressed only to the waist, working out or stretching or doing laundry or napping in the bushes or, at night, walking around in the dark in just boots and skivvies. It is too much to see. A few times I’ve nearly feinted, I swear. Oh to be invisible for twenty minutes.

Do you think Cuba will ever change?
Kevin: Short answer: Yes. And soon. Cuba seems tilted on the edge of change. Meanwhile, since the revolution, since 1959, Cubans have been waiting for change. They pass waiting to the next generation and they pass it again. And so many of our Cuban friends, especially our older friends are a lot more resigned. In Spanish, ‘hope’ and ‘wait’ is the same word. I am a lot more conflicted about change than my Cuban friends. Socialism is a fine idea for the most part. History never has it working out very well. But you have to respect the force of resistance. Cuba, so close to the bastion of democracy and consumerism and capitalism, continues to resist, continues to snub the star-spangled dream. And there is so much of Cuban culture that I love: they are not celebrity obsessed. For two weeks nobody starts a conversation about Paris Hilton or Britney Spears. And I’m not sure my love affair with Cuba can survive McDonald’s or Taco Bell. And another thing I love about Cuba: no advertising. Or barely any. No billboards declaring that I’m lovin’ it. The only thing we might call advertising is socialist propaganda. The visual assault in Cuba is all entirely welcome.

But listen. A person deserves choice. A person deserves basic liberties. And so many of my Cuban friends suffer, have suffered, continue to suffer what amounts to a harsh and arbitrary regime. And that’s not right either. And there’s a dual economy. There is money for the tourists and money for the Cubans. And there really is no comparison. Last Sunday at this time we were having a party with eight or ten of our friends and we bought a few rounds and at the end of it, the bill was about $100 our money. And we knew that for at least one of our friends at the party who works at a government market selling carefully portioned foodstuffs for nationals with ration cards, that this was the equivalent of about nine months of his salary. There’s no question that that’s just plain wrong. It boggles my head and makes me ashamed of privileges I take for granted. 

For my Cuban friends, I hope change comes soon. And I think that it will. But I worry that in 10 years, Cuba will be entirely unrecognizable.

Talking about change, and taking the risk of getting another Björk quote ☺, what is next for Kevin Slack?
Kevin: I still have not got enough of Cuba. My partner and I always talk about going somewhere else. Maybe Puerto Rico or Costa Rica or Honduras. Puerto Rico, much of it, looks like Cuba, but with capitalism. But it’s hard to start over somewhere else. We have great friends in Cuba and contacts. And we have a good understanding of how it works. And there is also a sort of urgency when it comes to Cuba because, I think, change is imminent.  There is much of Cuba we still want to explore beyond Havana. We have been to Holguin and Varadero and Pinar del Rio and Viñales. Next time, we hope to take a road trip to Matanzas and Sancti Spiritus.

There is a post-it note beside my desk. I wrote it the day we got back from Havana the last time: more Spanish, book?, $ to go back. My Spanish is not bad but it could always be better. Especially photo shoot Spanish when I am too distracted to conjugate properly. I’m going back to Spanish classes in a couple of weeks. I am working on a publishing contract for a coffee table book of Cuban photography. And finally, yes, there remains the pesky task of gathering enough money to go back. Likely that will put me back in a cubicle. But I can handle it.

And that’s as much of my future as I care to see. –B-

Read also the first part of the BeautifulMag interview with Kevin Slack, published on May 8th.

KEVIN SLACK | BEAUTIFUL

Comments

[crew]

once again ! brillaint ! merci ;)

[Gouli]

Très belle série. Celà donne envie d'aller à Cuba

[Steve]

Even the grafitti is beautiful in Cuba! What a country!

[German Armenta]

Beautiful story, this has been one of the most interesting articles I have read in BEAUTIFUL MAG, the images are strikingly beautiful and let it us know how incredible and authentic is Cuba

[wanker]

los bellos cubanos! mas desnudos por favor!