Luis Cruz Azaceta in the NOMA

By Miranda Lash

The combination of physical distance and decades-longU.S. travel and trade restrictions renders the idea of swimming to and from the island nation insurmountable for any person to attempt alone. Nevertheless, it is a journey that has taken place countless times in the minds of Cubans wishing to reach the United States, and Cuban immigrants dreaming of returning home. In his suite of new paintings, Azaceta invites viewers to undertake their own imaginative journeys through his imagery. These paintings explore the idea of crossing over in myriad ways: between abstraction and figuration, between geometric and organic forms, between Cuban and American culture, and between the historically linked cities of New Orleans and Havana.

Luis Cruz Azaceta , Blue

In the metaphorical sea of Azaceta’s solo exhibition, we are encouraged to negotiate contrasts like swimmers amidst the waves. Presented in NOMA’s white marbled Great Hall, the exhibition, Swimming to Havana, features ten new paintings, all from 2009. The selection of works on view reflects the pendulum swing in Azaceta’s practice between abstract and representational art. Six works are completely abstract, four contain small vignettes. Four assume the panoramic scale of grand history painting, while five others approximate a square format. Rather than convey a sense of equilibrium in his work, Azaceta’s aim is to defy calmness and complacency. Typical of his practice, he inserts elements of transgression into each painting. Large “modernist” landscapes are broken by the appearance of tiny figures. Bold blocks of color are compromised by thin white veins and anatomical references to breasts, orifices, and intestines. Bright, cheerful shapes draw us in, while enigmatic and disturbing imagery pushes us away.

The sense of displacement, of being lost in Azaceta’s world, relates in part to his personal history. Having had to straddle two cultures since fleeing to the United States in 1960, Azaceta is familiar with the feeling of dislocation. His desire and search for direction is perhaps most poignantly expressed in his painting Swimming to Havana I. There, he depicts himself paddling through a bubbly sewer, with a convolution of highways swirling around him. The feeling of exile is presented again in his painting Evacuees, where families, the elderly, and the infirm are shuttled through an ambiguous pathway. What awaits them is unknown and unseen.

Having lived in Louisiana since 1992, Azaceta can easily conjure memories of hurricane evacuations, most recently Hurricanes Katrina and Gustav. Typical of Azaceta’s style, however, he cannot resist slicing through the gravity of his subject matter with elements of levity. Employing his characteristic sense of humor, he plays with the controversial subject of immigration in his painting Alien. Briefcase in hand, a suited Azaceta emerges from his cartoonish spaceship, ready to embark upon a new terrain—whether it is a new country, the terror of the blank canvas, or the inhospitable topography of the art world. Man in a Hole, depicting a tiny, flailing Azaceta in a bathtub, can similarly be read both seriously and satirically. While he addresses the fear of drowning (literally and metaphorically), he does not eschew the inherent ridiculousness of getting lost in an oversized bathtub. Despite the frequent use of self-portraiture in his work, Azaceta is careful to note that his figures represent all of humanity, not solely himself. Since the 1970s Azaceta has used self-portraiture as a vehicle for expressing universal elements of the human condition.

Miranda Lash

Curator of Modern and Contemporary Art

New Orleans Museum of Art