In November 2016, the American Museum of Natural History in New York City (AMNH) opened a new exhibit entitled, simply, ¡CUBA! Its aim, according to the Museum’s press release, is to provide visitors with “fresh insights” into the “exceptional biodiversity and cultural richness” of the island. Fidel Castro’s death, which happened days after the exhibit’s opening, certainly added to the show’s relevance.
The first bilingual exhibit ever organized by the AMNH, ¡CUBA! must be understood in the context of Obama’s thaw and the institutional will to rekindle relations with the island. Hence it celebrates the long history of collaboration between the AMNH and Cuban scientific institutions going back to 1892.
Yet this is not by any means a celebration of nostalgia. The curators, Ana Luz Porzecanski, director of the Museum’s Center for Biodiversity and Conservation, and Chris Raxworthy, curator-in-charge in the Museum’s Department of Herpetology, working in collaboration with the Cuban National Museum of Natural History, created an exhibit that successfully presents Cuba as a dynamic society in the midst of important cultural, economic and also environmental changes. Cuba’s culture is shown in visually arresting and meticulously recreated installations, and discussed both in the context of and as a response to a complex history of colonization and anti-colonial struggles. Similarly, the beautifully rendered dioramas celebrate Cuba’s biodiversity and point to the island’s success in overcoming environmental challenges. If Cuban resourcefulness is a well-worn trope, the ¡CUBA! exhibit provides many examples of its real-life roots.
One of the arguments the exhibit makes is that Cuba’s importance as a haven for biodiversity, far from being simply the effect of “interrupted” economic development, is also the result of thoughtful decisions by Cuban policy-makers, scientists, and citizens at large. Interspersed throughout the displays are hints about how these choices come about, and the cultural practices that support them. However, this attention to what we could call “culture(s) of conservation” is often lost within the many other topics the exhibition presents. If curators had chosen to approach the exhibit more systematically from this perspective, they might have found it easier to problematize categories such as “nature” and “culture” that, after decades of intense scrutiny, cannot avoid appearing dated. Moreover, such dichotomies are puzzling when one considers that threats to biodiversity are not only tied to state economic policy but also intricately tied to consumption practices and lifestyle choices, always eminently cultural.
Dispelling Stereotypes
From the outset, the very name of the exhibit might raise eyebrows. There is no stodgy semicolon in this title. The word “Cuba,” in capital letters and qualified only by two exclamation points, suggests no further explanation is necessary. It brings to mind (unfortunate) comparisons to travel and tourism advertisements. More importantly, it allows the visitor to enter the exhibit with stereotypes intact.
This impression is dispelled as one moves through the first part of the exhibit, a circuitous path marked with larger-than-life photographic portraits of Cubans living both in the island and in the United States. Printed on translucent cloth and hanging from both ceilings and walls, they have the effect of being both monumental and ethereal. The portraits and the captions that accompany them reveal a diversity of experiences and opinions on what “being Cuban” means. In one panel we see Dayne Rodriguez, who left Cuba for the United States in 1987. Ms. Rodriguez decries the government policies that limited her options for careers and perhaps her future. “I wanted to be a doctor, but I couldn’t, because they didn’t need any more professionals.” A few steps further into the exhibit, another panel introduces us to Marilú Meléndez. Brought to the US by her parents in 1961, Meléndez’s views offer a stark counterpoint to Ms. Rodriguez: “We Cubans are the only people who think leaving is honorable. Each generation, most of ‘the best and the brightest left. And we didn’t return. Therefore, we are all responsible.’” It is difficult to see how these two positions, each with their own political simplifications, can be resolved; appropriately, the exhibit does not attempt to.
The Boulevard: Missed intersections
Moving away from the portrait gallery and past a room where a short video about Cuba’s political history (circa 1500s until today) is looped, the visitor encounters a rather large and incongruous sight: a lovingly restored 1955 Bel Aire. This artifact marks the beginning of a section named “Boulevard,” which separates the part of the exhibit dedicated to exploring Cuban society from the part of the exhibit exploring Cuban biodiversity.
Co-curator Ana Luz Porzecanski, who kindly guided one of my visits, explained that by replicating a generic Cuban thoroughfare flanked with colonnades, bici-taxis, and vending carts, the exhibit hoped to invite the visitor to enjoy a flanneur-experience of strolling through the compact space the exhibit occupies. The design certainly avoids imposing artificial “progressions” unto the overall narrative—be they either from natural to “social” states, or from lesser to more advanced stages of socioeconomic “development.” However, it does not necessarily succeed in strengthening the connections between the diverse parts of the exhibit, either. Rather, the design dilutes the already tenuous narrative continuity between the “cultural” and “natural” by separating them into discrete zones. One advantage is that it allows the curators to address urban life and development, and specifically the impacts of the “special period.”
Both the restored Bel Aire and the “bici-taxi” explore the complex realities behind the trope of Cuban ingenuity. What is interesting about Cubans making a virtue out of the need to reuse, repurpose and restore in order to survive is not that it speaks of their cultural uniqueness, but to the contrary, that these are cultural practices all humans need to emulate. Indeed, they approximate the idea of “zero-waste living,” a lifestyle that aims at radically minimizing human impacts on the environment, at least those related to the disposal of consumer products.
A few steps down, a pushcart brimming with typically Cuban produce provides a surprising statistic: roughly 20% of Havana’s population produces 70% of the fruits and vegetables consumed by its residents. The text calls attention to concerns Cubans continue to have with their food supply, but also provides another example of how human needs can be met through sustainable practices. With the popularity of the “eat local” movement, one suspects many visitors would have enjoyed hearing more from the urban gardeners of Havana themselves, including information about the formal and informal networks on which they rely for support. One could easily imagine visitors having animated conversations on this topic while sitting on the tables and chairs of a “plaza” found at the Boulevard’s end.
From culture to Culture
Under the colonnades to the right of the Boulevard we find several rooms showcasing aspects of Cuban “culture.” A replica of a tobacco shed, with hundreds of drying leaves made of paper (insect and fungal damage included), introduces the visitor to Cuba’s agricultural history. A conscientious student of the exhibit might notice a label on a nearby wall that discusses how 80% of Cuba’s forests were razed to meet the needs of cash crops such as sugar and tobacco; they might also wonder what is being done with such lands today.
Another room, dedicated to a discussion of religious customs, includes two Orisha thrones. Designed especially for the exhibit by David Brown, a well-known scholar and Santeria expert, and featuring the work of artists such as Martin Tsang, the thrones provide great visual drama. The obvious differences in the altars themselves point to the diversity of practices within this belief system. The text that accompanies the dazzling display offers details of the history and social context of the practice. Particularly effective are references to some of its more revered practitioners, whose photographs are also included. Together they provide a helpful point of entry for the visitor getting to know these beliefs for the first time.
While the thrones represent private expressions of spirituality, a large panel standing opposite to them addresses the public face of religious practice by showcasing different places of worship in Cuba. Here we find an image of a truly exotic religious practice in the island: a large Russian Orthodox Cathedral, built in Havana’s Malecón after the fall of the Soviet Union as a gift from Russia.
The last room in this section is dedicated to showcasing the work of contemporary Cuban artists. Included is a selection of posters created by contemporary graphic artists at the behest of the Cuban government to promote a diverse range of cultural events. While the inclusion of contemporary art in a “natural history” exhibit might not be completely unexpected, the creation of an interactive art “gallery” that allows visitors to choose from a variety of works to create their own exhibit within the exhibit is certainly innovative, and acknowledges recent changes in government policy allowing artists to create private enterprises to promote their work.
Nature: Prehistory and Preserves
On the left side of the Boulevard, opposite to the installations dedicated to “culture,” we arrive at “nature.” This section begins in a room dedicated to exploring “Cuba’s mysterious caves,” where evidence for previously unknown extinct species, and pre-Columbian artifacts has been found. From there the visitor can move to rooms showcasing three distinct conservation projects: the Zapata Biosphere Preserve, the coral reefs of Los Jardines de la Reina, and the Alexander Humboldt Natural Reserve. Life-like models of a variety of endemic and endangered species reinforce the importance of Cuba to the study of global biodiversity. Live specimens of several reptiles native to the island (borrowed from US institutions) enhance the effect of the excellent explanatory texts.
During our conversation about the exhibit, Porzecanski emphasized that Cuba’s government conservation choices were central to preserving the island’s biodiversity. Her comments echoed those Dr. Maritza García García, President of the Environment Agency of the Cuban Ministry of Science, Technology and Environment. Speaking during the exhibit’s opening ceremonies, Dr. García noted the importance of the Cuban government’s “political will,” exemplified by a national environmental strategy that designated roughly 20% of the island territory, including parts of its ocean shelf, as natural preserves. Some of this “political will” can be inferred from the all too brief section dedicated to joint AMNH and MNHN expedition into the Alexander Humboldt Natural Reserve. A short video discussing the expedition, and prominently featuring Cuban scientists speaking about their work, provides tantalizing glimpses into the work conditions these scientists confront, and the commitments that guide their scientific practice. The video also reveals how Cuban citizens are involved and respond to conservation efforts. It includes footage of students in a school located inside the preserve, proudly displaying their knowledge of the parks diverse flora and fauna. The way the video brought to life many facets involved in the everyday work of conservation in Cuba—policy, research and citizen engagement—again made one wish for more of these opportunities throughout the exhibit.
Exit
The exhibit ends as it begins, with words and portraits of Cubans, this time reflecting on the island’s future. In sharp contrast to the visual and informational intensity of the rest of the exhibit, this final room may be described as pithy, even laconic. It is possible that this effect was intentional, allowing Cubans the final say on what the future holds for their island. These Cubans are generally positive about the changes their country is experiencing. A high school student, Mauro Ferrer Font, has the proverbial last word. “We no longer think about struggles, liberating ourselves from the Spanish, from the United States—what they did to us, what we did to them. It’s like we study it in school but almost nobody in the street ever talks about that.”
This young man’s defiant forgetting strikes an incongruous note in an exhibit that has invested much time and energy into parsing the complexities of Cuba’s multiple political, cultural and environmental engagements with the world. Perhaps the curators wanted to signal that Cuba, even before the death of Fidel Castro, was at a crossroads, one for which previous history might not be the best guide. However, the statement can also be understood as an attempt to reassure the audience that, if inspired to travel to the island, their interactions with Cubans there might not be overly freighted by the complex histories entangling the two countries.
This ending does not provide the synthesis and closure visitors might be expecting and needing. The arrangement of the exhibit into three parallel zones: culture, built environment, and natural biodiversity, may have unintentionally reinforced what has been shown to be, now more than ever, an artificial divide between “natural” and cultural landscapes. Visitors therefore might have benefitted from being reminded that conservation choices take place within opportunities created by citizens, their governments—both local and national—as well as by transnational organizations. Cuban scientists and citizens engage in cultural production when they construct agendas and navigate those of others, deciding which they will support, reject or greatly reinterpret. By revisiting how Cubans negotiate the meaning of concepts such as “nature,” “culture,” “science,” “conservation” and indeed, “biodiversity,” the connections between narrative strands within the exhibit could have been most clearly revealed.
In a time where important sectors of our country’s population remain uncertain about the long term, transformative effects of human impacts on the environment, we need more opportunities to tackle not only the science but also the “political cultures” that make environmental conservation possible. We need to take every available opportunity to communicate to the public, in the words of Andrew Revkin,
how humans [have become] such a potent environmental influence that a signature of our doings, for good or ill, will be measurable in layered rock for millions of years to come. By altering climate, landscapes, and seascapes as well as flows of species, genes, energy, and materials, we are sealing the fates of myriad other species. And, without a big shift from business-as-usual, we will undermine our own long-term welfare as well.
(“An Anthropocene Journey” Dot Earth Blog New York Times, November 8, 2016)
Cuba’s choices offer alternatives to “business-as-usual” development practices that have placed the island at the forefront of conservation efforts. The exhibit introduces the visitor to this lesser known aspect of Cuban reality. One hopes that future exhibitions will choose to explore this subject in greater detail.
¡CUBA! will be open to the public until August 2017.