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Eddy Ochoa
Guzmán - Interview
WHEN THE SUN COMES OUT AT NIGHT
By Reinaldo Cedeño Pineda
Translation by Ellen Rosenzweig
The artist’s hand can change anything. A police
officer and a paintbrush. The mysterious light of
his nocturnal landscapes. ‘I wish I could get
inside one of your paintings.’ The supreme beauty
of water. A painter who writes songs.
A tiny piece of the Cuban countryside in the middle
of the city: that’s Eddy Ochoa Guzmán’s
home. In a corner stand a taro plant with its broad
green leaves and a bonsai with its miniature fruit;
a songbird trills its tribute to the sun. There are
still a few cactus plants here and there, with their
flowers and thorns, even though most of them have
been removed, having overrun the place.
Eddy has concentrated the 50 years of his life on
painting and music, with a child’s enthusiasm,
stamina and joy. His landscapes have a soothing effect.
The artist has learned to paint the river that runs
through him, with the colors he sees outside of him.
I DELIGHTED IN NATURE
From
the vantage point of Alto del Fuerte, in the mountains
of Baracoa – where he was born on December 27,
1952 – the Yumurí River seemed immense.
That spot, the site of what used to be a Spanish fortress,
is full of legend and history.
“I always carry that setting in my mind. That
river inspired both love and fear in me, and it’s
the strongest memory I have. I delighted in nature.”
His father was a Rebel Army soldier in the Sierra
Maestra mountains, and when the Revolution triumphed
his family moved to Santiago de Cuba, the capital
of what was then Oriente province. Eddy was only eight
years old, and although he adapted well to that radical
change in his life, the images of his birthplace never
faded.
He was granted a scholarship to study in Havana, and
then decided to apply for the San Alejandro Art Academy,
but there was no space left. As a result, he went
to the Fine Arts School in Pinar del Río, the
country’s westernmost province.
This circumstance, which could have been frustrating,
offered Ochoa the great opportunity of getting to
know the land that grows the world’s best tobacco
and has a variety of exceptional landscapes. Tobacco
plantations, palms and orchids have found fertile
ground in a topography known as the Viñales
Valley, with its fascinating limestone hummocks.
His stay in Pinar was short, but its beauty was absorbed
into his overall perspective.
“I learned a lot from maestro Domingo Ramos
and his landscapes of the valley. Every day I watched
his painting technique. When I went back to Santiago,
Armando Rodríguez – an excellent painter
with unorthodox opinions – helped me a lot.
He told us to spend time at school, outside of class
hours, painting landscapes, and I learned a few details
from him.”
He continued learning on his own, as well as studying
for two years at the José Joaquín Tejada
Art School. But there were some who looked down their
noses at landscape painting.
“In Santiago de Cuba, I clashed with modern
art. They spurned me a bit, and I had a rough time,
but I was lucky that painters such as Ferrer Cabello
and Aguilera Vicente supported what I did."
“Once when I started doing landscapes, I commented
that I had some trouble getting supplies, and Aguilera
Vicente gave me a set of Chinese brushes. It was like
being stuck in the middle of a river on a raft, and
someone comes along and gets you over to the other
side.”
COUNTERPOINT IN BLUE AND GREEN
His artistic path seemed to have come to an end when
he joined the police department, specializing in criminology,
but his vocation as a painter never faded. Of course,
there were those who couldn’t comprehend how
he could do both.
“Once I arrived at a meeting dressed in my police
uniform, and some people who didn’t know me
were surprised. So we conducted an informal survey
among the visitors there, who were from Italy, France,
the United States and Cuba, to determine if anybody
had ever heard of a police officer who paints.”
And the outcome?
“Well, at least in that group, nobody knew of
anyone. People couldn’t figure me out. I painted
landscapes when I was on guard duty, and sometimes
people would ask me to paint them something, which
I did with pleasure. I had to travel to the municipalities
for my work, and on those trips I absorbed all the
images I saw."
“I went through a phase in which my landscapes
were like women with long hair. That idea came to
me as I was heading to the town of Dos Bocas, because
there was a mountain that looked like a woman’s
hair hanging loose, with a background of palm trees."
“Landscape artists have to look around a lot,
to commit to memory all the elements that may help
them later on. I usually used an ink pen in my office,
because it was easier than setting up everything for
oil painting. It really was quite odd to see a police
officer painting.”
Thus he lived in a sort of counterpoint between blue
and green, between the color of his uniform and his
fondness for nature. And all his skills seemed to
come together when he began doing police sketches,
which can be so instrumental in capturing criminals.
“A police sketch is based on a graphic description
of a person whom the witness has seen. It depends
heavily on psychological techniques and the witness’
memory, as well as the witness’ age and the
time of day when the event took place. When I started
doing those drawings, there were no computers. It
was done completely by hand, and I was asked to work
on a number of complex cases.”
One involved a crime in which the key witness had
not been able to see the perpetrator’s face
clearly. But the artist’s talent and imagination
played a fundamental role in achieving justice.
“It occurred to me to ask the witness if the
perpetrator had any resemblance to someone he knew,
and using that reference, a photo and other elements,
I drew the face. Later on I learned that the criminal
had been arrested. I drew everything by hand. A computer
is a very sophisticated tool, but you have to draw
a portrait by hand, because the person may have a
particular mark or difficult features that are hard
to capture, or the portrait may come out looking stilted."
“I still believe there are certain features,
certain shadows that can be achieved more accurately
without a computer, and they are precisely the features
that set one person apart from another.”
COUNTERPOINT IN GREEN AND BLACK
After participating in over 20 group shows since 1975,
Ochoa’s first one-man show, entitled Two Facets
of Landscape, was held in 1989 at the Elvira Cape
Public Library on Heredia Street, the heart of Santiago
de Cuba’s culture.
Ochoa’s son, also named Eddy, is majoring in
art history. His considered opinion of his father
as an artist is that he is very honest and jubilant
in his defense of landscape painting, as well as in
his defense of beauty and the need to preserve nature.
“I look at the landscape from an ecological
point of view,” the artist himself explained.
“There are no humans in my paintings. Sometimes
I paint a road where people have been, because in
their zest to live and develop, people change the
environment, usually for the worse. There will always
be landscape paintings, because people long to be
at one with nature."
“You have to know how to look at places. Nowadays
it’s easier to take photos than to go out to
the countryside with an easel. Photos are my sketches,
the bases for my landscapes. Many of my paintings
have bodies of water, because water has a matchless
beauty and is the source of life."
“I painted a setting near the San Juan River,
a stream that people walk by and never see. I started
to bring it back to life by recreating the landscape’s
natural environment, as it must have looked a long
time ago. People have asked me if it’s a landscape
of the Sierra Maestra, but in fact the water flowing
into the San Juan is sewage. The artist’s hand
can change everything.”
There is a frenzy of green in your paintings, a luxuriance...
“Yes, I create foliage, I bring it to life.
I want it to look as real as possible. I prefer luxuriance
to detail. I love to paint very thick foliage –
I take great pleasure in greens."
“A painter from New York named Peter Coe used
to say that he lived in a steel and concrete city
where people longed for the country. They only see
trees in photos, or ‘imprisoned trees’
in parks, caged like birds."
“Some people who play classical music think
that it’s the only really civilized music. The
same can be said of ballet; some consider folk dancing
uncultured. But people always love nature and the
human figure. I paint for art connoisseurs and for
those who visit galleries for the first time. Someone
once told me, ‘I wish I could get inside one
of your paintings."
“Art should fill people with beauty and the
freshness of the landscape; in the midst of this violent
world we live in, landscapes are a touch of harmony
and joy. Painting landscapes isn’t easy.”
But in addition to all the luxuriance, you have come
up with something unique: nocturnal landscapes. Why
do you paint them?
“Almost everyone does daytime paintings, but
once when I was hospitalized, I looked through the
window and saw a lighthouse that illuminated a spot
in the landscape. I said to myself, ‘It’s
amazing how man can artificially light up part of
the unseen landscape."
“When I illuminate a landscape, there’s
no doubt that it continues to exist, even if it cannot
be seen. It’s a psychological message.”
And what is the attraction of nocturnal landscapes?
“The charm of it lies in achieving the force
of light within the darkness of the landscape.”
And can there be light within that darkness?
“I search for that light, I artificially place
that light in a spot, it comes from a mystical place.
It’s a different approach; maybe that’s
why I’ve attracted attention in the world of
landscape painting. I’ve never liked being like
everyone else. Landscapes have been painted in a thousand
ways, but this is a new way of looking at them.”
Some people say it’s almost impossible to paint
a landscape in Cuba without feeling the influence
of Tomás Sánchez, a Cuban landscape
artist who’s known around the world. To what
extent do you agree with this?
“They also say that when you think about painting
something, Tomás Sánchez has already
done it. Those are the reverential opinions of critics,
due to the magnitude of Tomás Sánchez’s
work. I think his art is magnificent. I note a certain
quality in his work, a bit of primitive, if you will.
He achieves elements that never attained by an academic
painter and puts in details that one could never see
at the distance he chooses, and that’s very
interesting to me. I feel his influence, but I do
what I feel inside.”
A FLOWER FEAST
Eddy Ochoa is a respectful gentleman, but when challenged
he jumps into the fray. He does not demand that the
world praise him, but he knows how to move people
through his paintings.
The Dominican Republic, a Caribbean neighbor, has
opened its galleries to him. Shows like Infinite Presence
and Midnight Dreams were highly praised by critics
and public alike, and his creativity doesn’t
end there.
When he’s painting, a tune often comes into
his head, so he puts down his brush and sings the
melody into a tape recorder. Music also comes to him
in the middle of the night, as his wife María
Aurora can attest: she has been startled more than
once when he jumps out of bed to appease his musical
whims. By the way, María Aurora has inspired
several of his painted waterfalls.
Ochoa also heads the Primavera Project, a musical
training program for kids, and some of his songs have
been selected for the annual Singing to the Sun Festival,
Cuba’s most important musical event for children.
He even participated in a Cuban television program
marking the end of the millennium, in which a huge
children’s chorus sang: “How beautiful
Santiago looks! It looks like a seesaw!... How beautiful
it is!”
His granddaughter Daniela is a sight to see, as she
and her friends dance to Grandpa’s songs.
How are children’s songs and painting related?
“I love beauty, things that are brand new, and
the children’s way of thinking, which is as
pure as the landscape, not polluted.”
A Party of Flowers, by Eddy Ochoa
Dear little friend, I invite you
to the party of flowers,
where colors
will be shared,
but it happens in our dreams
so we must go to sleep....
If you had to choose right now between painting
and music, which would you choose?
“I’m a painter, a painter who writes songs.”
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