MIAMI, FLA.- Francine Birbragher: Congratulations on the exhibition. How did this project originate?

Carlos Luna: Dr. Carol Damian, former director of the Frost Art Museum, took the first step when she invited me to exhibit. Dr. Barbaro Martinez-Ruiz, the guest curator, decided to focus on two specific aspects of my work: experimentation and creative research. In planning the exhibition, Barbaro focused on two key ideas: first, on the fact that I constantly go out of my comfort zone and experiment with materials, shapes, ideas and concepts that open new routes and inspire expressive possibilities that enrich my visual language; and second, his interest in the way I deal with the Cuban issue, particularly how I reflect and address with my own voice and pride my peasant origins (I was born in Pinar del Rio).

Barbaro is the author of the title of the exhibition: Green Machine: The Art of Carlos Luna. According to him, “the title alludes to the importance of the rain forest known as ‘El Monte,’ which represents a threshold or sacred space in Afro-Cuban historical traditions as well as in the popular imagination of the Cuban people. The idea of a living forest embodies the profound psychic connection associated with Africa as a place of origin, a source of all vitality, a spiritual fountain that constantly transforms itself into a primary source of healing. The machine signifies something that works and carries out the fundamental activity of nature—the continuity of life—guaranteed by the enlivening and empowering of its force. The expression “green machine” conveys the idea of the vital source, the spiritual world, which man must discover or enter into in order to find meaning In Carlos Luna’s work. The “green machine” is a metaphor for the artist leaving behind the experiences associated with his rural past to bring about the contemplation of the present moment.”

FB: There is a strong narrative element in your work. Each piece tells a story.

CL: The narrative is the “leitmotif” of my work. However, at the end of the creative process, the narrative goes into the background. The most important aspect is the aesthetic result with which I interact with the viewer. I do not tell the anecdote just to tell a story. While I am passionate about history, I use it as the basis to find the ideal visual solution. Since childhood, I was fascinated by my grandmothers’ stories. Their delicate and careful detail fed my imagination and stimulated the creation of images. The food they cooked, the tablecloth on the table, an embroidered skirt, a hairstyle, all generated a wealth of images I used to build stories. My grandmother made stories out of everything. For example, while preparing a “flan,” she believed that the caramel had to be poured slowly to avoid “scaring” the ingredients and ruining the consistency. Anecdotes like this one filled my head with images and stories. The story is an important tool in my creative process.

FB: Your work is clearly autobiographical.

CL: Each of my works tells a story from a personal vision. A clear example in the exhibition is Robo-lucion, an installation formed by three pieces and a mural intervention. It is a declaration, a personal opinion on the disaster that occurred in my country beginning in 1959. Another example is Beauty, formed by individual ceramic plates, each of which displays an iconographic element that have been present in my work throughout my career stripped of any anecdote of history so it can be represented aesthetically within my parameter of beauty. Nevertheless, the anecdote and the history are put together when the plates are shown together. Additional references to the anecdotal can be found in El Gran Mambo and Blanca Prieta.

FB: You use symbols that relate to Cuba and its political reality: the Cuban flag, for example, or Fidel Castro’s portrait. Your position towards Cuba is a serious one yet you transmit it with humor.

CL: My work is full of humor and transmits many emotions. I chose to smile to life. It does not matter what I talk about, I stand in front of tragedy and I find the way to resolve it esthetically. Humor has saved me constantly and it is a frequent resource on my work. Sometimes is more scathing, sometimes happy, sometimes more serious, but in general it is always there. As Jorge Manach would say in the Cuban “choteo,” we Cubans have a tendency to laugh about everything. I say that is true for all Latin Americans.

FB: The representation of animals or half-human-half-animal beings has a close relation with Mexico, with the Nahua culture, for example.

CL: Mexico gives me the option of feeling free, of owning my creative space and my own life. In Cuba I lived the academic experience and the technical exercise. In Mexico I found freedom and also a country with a very rich and varied cultural tradition. It gave me the power and the control of opening the fan. My work is permeated by popular culture. In Cuba I nourished myself with the verbal and the musical. In Mexico I found a popular art rich in tradition and materials, including clay and fiber. Mexico enriches my work in many ways.

FB: One of them is the use of color.

CL: In Cuba my work was basically monochromatic. I painted in black and white. I met Claudia, my wife, one year after I arrived in Mexico and we got married shortly after. Nine months later my daughter Camila was born and since then my work has been filled with color. Puebla, the city where we lived, was rich in historic and cultural traditions. Its food, its candies, its crafts, its ceramics, everything was filled with color, from the tamales’ car to the china poblana’s dress. This inevitably influenced my work. Nevertheless, since I moved to the United States, I have been reducing my palette. A good example of this is the series of works the hung in the first hall of the exhibition.

FB: The quality of the materials is extremely important in your artistic production.

CL: Permanence is very important to me. This has to do with my classical training, my admiration for the great masters and my concern for the longevity of my work. The processes of the great masters haunt me. When you look at a work by Velázquez it may easy to work like he did, but it is not. When you see a painting by Bacon you think it is easy to paint like him but it is not. Their techniques require an almost scientific process. I always say that the best artist is a scientist of his art and the best scientist is an artist of his science. Creation is physically demanding which is why it is important to focus on the discipline and the order in the process. In school I had a teacher who use to tell us, “touch the brush, pass it over your face, feel the paper, smell it...” He wanted us to establish a dialogue with the materials. I know I have finished a work when it says to me: "do not touch me." The creative process is as demanding as a woman. You have to give her your soul so she shows you her body.

FB: The symbols in your works are also obsessive.

CL: Yes, they are. I cannot tell you where that comes from. I was always a very curious child. My grandparents used to say I belonged to the salmon club, because I always went against the current. I always found pleasure in doing things in a different way. What I do is obsessive. I get under the skin, under the things. For me the most important thing is to be restless and to be happy with what I am doing. Recognition is only part of the path.

FB: One of your big challenges the largest work in the exhibition, El Gran Mambo

CL: It is a piece that exceeded my expectations. I was given a commission that demanded intense and introspective labor. The compositional structure of the work is a huge eye. You can see the curvature that follows the corners of the painting. After making the initial sketch I realized that the fabric was too big. For conservation and transportation purposes I decided to divide the canvas in three panels. I drew the first one, then the second and the third. I made the general sketch and I wrote the words "look at me forever" in the middle of the second panel. The work grew twice its original size (six panels) to include the Cuba-Mexico-Miami route. My challenge was to synthesize a journey filled with different emotions and experiences in pictures. A man on horseback stabbing a bloody boot represents my departure from Cuba. The peasant is placed below the iconic “Morro”. The trip to Mexico symbolizes a break in my life. The airplanes have Cuban flags on them and represent where I come from. Finally, I came to the United States, which is why the sixth panel represents Miami. It is placed below the one that represents Cuba. Miami is home to the largest number of Cubans living outside the island. When I arrived in Miami I had to face my past. In the work I talk about the decisions I made throughout my journey. In the second panel I wrote the phrase "I do not want to fall in love." However, it is in Mexico where I met Claudia and where I anchored myself for a while. El Gran Mambo shows how I always leave my comfort zone to face new challenges. I speak about courtship and the couple’s conflicts. Claudia and I have different traditions, we come from different cultures. However, what we create together makes me happy. It is something I cannot catch and that is why I always want her next to me. Is it love? Is it dependence? It is a kind of energy, it is something that happens when we're together and keeps me making art. I live my life around a woman I consider more beautiful every day, a woman who joins me and helps me build what I do.

This interview was conducted by Francine Birbragher and published in Spanish in the digital magazine Letra Urbana.

Francine Birbragher and Letra Urbana authorized artdaily.com to publish the English version.