User:Silkscreens

Art as Social Coherence in the Paintings of David Martinez

Life

David Martinez Delgado (b. 1982- ), a Cuban-born artist, paints the urban landscapes of his native land, Cuba, with its magnificent architectural ruins, symbols of both metaphor and protest, death and regeneration.

A graduate of the prestigious Academy of San Alejandro, citadel to some of the most respected Cuban artists both past and present like Wilfredo Lam and Amelia Pelaez, among many others, David Martinez has inherited a rich tradition steeped in the cultural past of his ancestors, and torchbearer of people from his generation. This inheritance has become the onus of a pastoral setting still defining itself, particularly as interpreted by the intergenerational society of a post 1959-revolutionary, communist Cuba, an aesthetic that, oddly, is not necessarily political, nor for that matter is it revolutionary. Rather, it is heartfelt, something that has unleashed a kaleidoscope of vistas often realistic and grim, often tender and nostalgic, always creative, regenerating.

In most, if not all, of David Martinez’s works, there is a distinctive nostalgia, though not of the same type as of some other artists of his generation, or of the present artistic production of Cuban artists living in exile. His landscapes are not limited to a certain concept, ideal, or symbolism. Hence, if some of his canvases have certain political undertones, it is but just one of the many symbolisms he brings to light. This is a work of social coherence, a dialogue of sorts, even contemplation.

Works

Surprisingly, the artist, whoever he is, says very little. He steps back, contemplates, and lets you view the sea, the bandaged-like crumbling buildings, the pose of females looking like androgynous men from another century or even daring works of two females in a lesbian act of quiet, meditative masturbation Desde tu balcon. There are boats and rafts emptied of people. There is a phantasmagoria of lights, shadows, colors, such as in Luces.

David’s art at this point can be categorized and interpreted at many levels. What is a common theme in his paintings is an attempt to understand the circumstances of his surroundings, a venue from which he can start to patch-up the incongruence of his homeland. It is an art of which seeks to, first, define his past and then only redefine the social milieu of the present, a present as dilapidated as the ruins he paints, but ruins that remain grandiose and elegant nonetheless, unsettling and which extend the perimeter of the genre especially his portraitures, such as El gallo y yo.

Artists from any generation have sought to understand the blueprint of their existence in similar fashion. These are, mostly, young artists seeking to reclaim, or understand, a past they may not know much about, except, perhaps, through hearsay or family lore.

The problem is that the past is, at best, illusory and deceptive, and the present even under the best of circumstances, closed-in within, especially as this applies to any form of authority which seeks to control every aspect of a person’s life. Hence, it is not unusual to find towers in David’s paintings; towers that seem to cleave out from under an ocean or from some dark ether and up to something that may resemble an even darker and even murkier height. Not to lose some of its symbolism either, in Luces, for example, fractured city lights become reflections that can be viewed at any angle, and still look the same. What’s amazing about this painting is that it is painted on a black background from which not only lights, but balconies, streets, windows, among many other things, seem to be turning over and around as viewed from a kaleidoscope.

David Martinez, I think, falls into this category of artists, some of whom, by way of example, I see similarities in with the Italian émigré Joseph Stella and Ohio-born Hart Crane, neither of whom have anything in common with one another, except a desire to express their cultures in ways that only makes sense to people of their times and generation. Ironically, the work-product of this transcends the times, the distance, and the obvious dissimilarities. For example, I see much of the same desire to express a cultural existence mainly in works such as, say, Stella’s, Battle of Lights, Coney Island (1914) and even in New York Interpreted V: The Bridge (1922), in Martinez’s, Luces (2001).

Living now in the United States, David Martinez's new experiences will have much influence in his newer works, assuredly. As it seems to be a Cuban tradition, he is now an émigré, or an artist living in exile. He joins hands with that diverse group of young immigrants who, ultimately, define themselves in hyphenated terms. While this may not necessarily mean that the thematic subjects he explored in Cuba will change, what it does mean is that his future, more mature art will no longer depict ports surrounded by broken pieces of wood and towers that meander high up to a sky. This time the artist can look beyond, at the horizon, and much like the man himself, he will be able to interpret that new landscape of dreams. It is anyone’s guess what this will be like once his canvases waken up to the morning’s clarion.