Amistad Art Gallery

The Amistad Art Gallery on the first floor of Du Bois College House, under the leadership of Faculty Director Amalia Dache,currently houses: 

 

The Fall 2024 Exhibition will be announced in October 2024. 

 

 

The Amistad Art Gallery on the first floor of Du Bois College House, under the leadership of Faculty Director Amalia Dache, previously housed the following exhibition in Fall 2023: 

LA RUMBA QUE TRAJO EL BARCO "The Rumba brought by the Ship"

Juan Caballero - Artist - La Habana, Cuba - NYC

La Rumba Que Trajo El Barco

Amistad Art Gallery. WEB. Du Bois College House. University of Pennsylvania.
Text, curatorship and museography:
Santiel Rodríguez Velázquez

 

La Rumba Cubana series  

The Cuban Rumba series. According to data, the Rumba in Central Park New York City began in the early sixties, where it initially included the participation of groups of people who loved Cuban music. Many were Puerto Rican and from other Latin countries. At the beginning of the eighties, people belonging to what was called the Marielitos group began to appear. They were from Havana and other provinces and came to the United States through the migratory exodus that occurred in 1980. Of this group of Cubans, the majority settled in the State of Florida and the City of New York. In the early eighties, people from this group who emigrated to NY discovered the Rumba in Central Park and began to spread the word to the rest of this cultural manifestation, and as a consequence there was a large participation of Cubans that has lasted to this day. They are in charge of a reunion with the true essence of what the true Cuban Rumba is. Many of the people who came to the park for the first time have already died and others have grown old, and the youngest people who came to the United States in the years still participate. The Central Park Rumba has been a powerful tool and a way for these Cubans to keep their traditions alive. Many of this group were not rumberos in Cuba but had grown up in the rumbero environment of poor neighborhoods of Havana, and discovering this event brought them a reunion with their roots and traditions. A curious fact is that the majority of the Marielitos who felt close and identified with the rumba preferred to come to live in New York City and not in Miami like the rest of the emigrants from that group from Mariel. Possibly they felt that they might have a better chance of surviving in NYC than in Miami. In 2016, Cuban Rumba was recognized by UNESCO as an Intangible Heritage of Humanity. However, when practiced in the Cuban diaspora of New York or Miami, it has other connotations, evoking the longing for a lost homeland, in addition to creating a great platform for people from Latin America and from different cultural and ethnic backgrounds to come together in the same space of community interest.

 

Written by Juan Caballero

 

1980 marked a before and after in the migratory history of Cuba. From those warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, crossing the Straits of Florida; prows heading north about 1,700 ships with a little more than 125 thousand Cubans carrying very few material belongings, yet their spiritual belongings as heavy as an anvil were carried in the heart of each one of them. The sound of an Ilú Batá, the rhythm and clave of the guaguancóyambúcolumbia, its jiribilla, the tinkling of a cowbell, the strength of the bass of the cajón, the dance of an Íreme, a Congo, and the procession of the vacunao that seduces at the climax of the rumba and falls in love.

 

On a Sunday afternoon, after several days evaluating the possibility of a trip, we arrived at Central Park in New York City and taking the suggestion of the current exhibit’s photographer Juan Caballero, I hoped to meet and spend time with those Cuban rumberos belonging to that great migration of the '80s; many of them who were dispossessed from marginalized Cuban neighborhoods and many were also initiated into the foundations of African religions inherited from our ancestors. Some Abakuas, others practitioners of the Ifá-Orisa religion and if that were not enough, many Mayomberos. I thought about those who were once uprooted from the land that saw them born and re-emerge in a strange land with a lot of pain, but also with freedom and a great desire to move forward. Being happy to be alive and making the same music as always, as if they never would have left Cuba.

 

To my surprise, I found a great variety of nationalities. From a Puerto Rican to a blonde American who plays the tumbadora like a Cuban, converging in a multicultural environment. I observed without a doubt that the rumba was present, but it was no longer just ours, it now belonged to the regulars in New York City's Central Park. The rumba was already for those who wanted to dance and sing it, even if it was not their tradition.

 

I imagined in that case, that "in 43 years many things can happen", among them the adaptation of these rhythms to the cold northern climate, where "you can't play the rumba every day" and even less so in Central Park in the middle of the New York winter. Adaptation, yes adaptation! Once again migration, this time semi-forced and part of that adaptation, was also that spontaneous amalgamation of nations, idiosyncrasies and ways of thinking, transcending to more human spaces, creating community.

 

Rumba came to New York City to be inherited, not only by those children of Cubans who arrived in the 80s and 90s, but also by those who adopted it, gave it shelter in their homes, in their souls and in those who, like the photographer Juan Caballero, have fallen in love with this social phenomenon, where time in rhythmic conjunction stops being a spatial element, and is transformed into a harmony that gives life.

 

 

The work of this passionate photographer is evidence that in these 43 years we have not only been able to enjoy this transculturation in a foreign land, this mixture of roots that his photos narrate, but also that rumba continues to be a vigorous source to the human being, from the effusion that emanates from the soul of each rumbero.

 

In the composition of these snapshots are carved the courage that Juan knows how to glorify, in singing, in playing the drum, in dancing and in the enjoyment of a good rumba. Between lights and eclipses, Juan manages with his lens to capture the essence of that intimate space that each rumbero leaves his mark on the tumbadora, in a drawer or in his own voice that detaches itself from the personal to be delivered to the world. Far from the commercial and well-rooted in respect for what is inherited, this humble hunter of illustrious moments has managed to capture the hands, gestures and even the sound waves of those who sing with fury, those who are always present “cuando la Rumba les llama”, of those who will be rumberos one day, of others who are no longer among us, but were emissaries of what we can delight in today. From a Oro Iyá Ilú Batá, to traditional dances, whether outdoors or in a specific environment, its lens has been equipped with multiple scenarios where spontaneity reigns, but in communion and effort with customs, in which not only the qualities of these habitual manifestations are appreciated, as well as those of that prelude of effulgence well-aimed by his eyes and his instant cunning.

 

We cannot talk only about rumba without alluding to the respect of those who were and always will be “The Great Ones.” Because the rumba is not only inherited, the rumba is also a tribute to the ancestors, but not with religious characteristics. However, it has a spiritual link for some of us who practice these “magical” religions of African origin. We understand that death is just a transition to another state, to another time invisible to the eye that is used to seeing matter, to that state where it is possible to encounter “the truth in the world of the ancestors.” For a rumbero it is familiar to have these beliefs, therefore, a rumbero does not say goodbye with tears, a rumbero says goodbye with music and dance, not celebrating his death, but rather the journey of his life, the legacy he left in our culture, which has transcended the borders of insularity to become multinational.

 

It is true that we would not have enough walls to reveal Juan's magnificent and extensive graphic work in these contexts. A feat of many years capturing rumba through the diaphragm, through time and its beautiful illuminations, in the corners and parks of the immeasurable City of New York. But what we do is offer a graphic and sound testimony of what was, is and fortunately will continue to be, La Rumba que Trajo el Barco.

 

 

Lic. Santiel Rodríguez Velázquez

 

Artist Bio

Juan Caballero Cabrera was born in Havana, Cuba. In 1994 he took his first steps into the world photography on a trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Soon after Caballero began studying with the Association of Photographers of Buenos Aires, and later worked as a photographer for the "Argentina Foundation to Aid Immigrants." With this group he covered the First National party for refugees in Argentina and his photos were published in their magazine. It was in Argentina working with refugees from around the world that he first realized the powerful impact a photo has, effectively documenting a country's social and political realities. In 1997 he returned to Cuba to study at the International Institute of Journalist José Martí.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Amistad Art Gallery on the first floor of Du Bois College House, under the leadership of Faculty Director Amalia Dache previously housed the following exhibition in Fall 2022: 

Pensamiento Religión y Sociedad | Omar Zans, La Habana, Cuba

[download exhibition brochure: PDF, 1.8 MB]
 

Pensamiento, Religión y Sociedad
- Omar Zans, Artista -

 

Amistad Gallery. W.E.B. Du Bois College House. University of Pennsylvania.
Palabras, curaduría y museografía:
Santiel Rodríguez Velázquez


La herencia que dejaron nuestros ancestros, no la hemos sepultado, la hemos cultivado para ser “sociedad”, para existir como nación.

Muchos en nuestras tierras occidentales, ven desde “muy lejos” aquellos remanentes de África subsahariana que emigraron hacia Las Américas, en condición de esclavos, mas consigo trajeron sus modos de vidas, sus tradiciones, sus recuerdos y sus dioses.

A través de las imágenes del artista visual Omar Sanz, esta muestra pretende compactar más de 500 años de una ruptura, pero a su vez, un comienzo del amasijo social que se instauró en la mayor de las Antillas caribeñas. Procura, una vez más, trazar los ilimitados caminos de una sociedad mixta, que decidió conservar y apreciar lo heredado.

La exposición concierta cuatro series de imágenes que intentan representar, la tan diversa sociedad que habita en el archipiélago antillano.  Marcando la profundidad de lo cotidiano “Rostros de incertidumbre” (serie), reseña inseguridad, pero a su vez, la tenacidad de aquellos que no nacieron con tal suerte, o que no fueron favorecidos por el esquema social implantado. La disconformidad que se sinergia, se procura en un “Mañana” (serie), donde las esperanzas no se ven hundidas en el mar, solo pausadas para ir al encuentro de un camino, que quizás provenga de los dioses, de aquellos dioses, que heredamos y que llevan banderas, símbolos, arquetipos, “Collares” (serie), donde las “Marcas de un Linaje” (serie), no sean objetivo de aversión.

Bio

Omar es retratista y fotógrafo abstracto. Le apasiona tanto escrutar en el perfil sicológico del personaje como cortar y componer a través del visor esos fragmentos urbanos que en su macro visualización dejan de ser parte de algo para transmutarse en algo en sí y para sí. El retrato narra. La obra abstracta intenta desligarse de cualquier analogía, de cualquier literalidad. Sus búsquedas dentro del abstraccionismo se han visto en las muestras Saldos, (galería de la UNEAC, Holguín, 2016), Lenguaje de mudos (Chile, 2017), Dones del bufón (Centro Hispanoamericano de Cultura, 2017), entre otras.

Thought, Religion and Society
- Omar Zans, Artist -

 

Amistad Gallery. WEB. Du Bois College House. University of Pennsylvania.
Text, curatorship and museography:
Santiel Rodríguez Velázquez


We have not buried the heritage left by our ancestors, we have cultivated it to become "society", and to exist as a nation.

Many in our western lands see from "far away" those remnants of sub-Saharan Africa that emigrated to the Americas as slaves, but with them they brought their ways of life, their traditions, their memories and their gods.

Through the images of the visual artist Omar Sanz, this exhibition aims to compact more than 500 years of rupture, but at the same time, a beginning of the social mess that was established in the largest of the Caribbean Antilles. Try, once again to trace the unlimited paths of a mixed society, which decided to preserve and appreciate what it inherited.

The exhibition brings together four series of images that try to represent the highly diverse society that inhabits the Antillean archipelago. Marking the depth of everyday life, “Faces of Uncertainty” (series), reviews insecurity, but at the same time, the tenacity of those who were not born with such luck, or who were not favored by the established social scheme. The disagreement that is synergized is sought in the "Tomorrow" (series), where hopes are not sunk in the sea, only paused to find a path, which perhaps comes from the gods, and from those gods, who we inherit and carry flags, symbols, archetypes, like "Necklaces" (series), where the "Marks of a Lineage" (series), are not targets of aversion.

Bio

Omar Zans is a portrait and abstract photographer. He is passionate about both scrutinizing the psychological profile of the character and cutting and composing through the viewer those urban fragments that in his macro visualization cease to be part of something to transmute into something in itself and for itself. The portrait narrates. The abstract work attempts to detach itself from any analogy, from any literality. His searches within abstractionism have been seen in the exhibitions Saldos, (UNEAC gallery, Holguín, 2016), Lenguaje de mudos (Chile, 2017), Dones del jester (Centro Hispanoamericano de Cultura, 2017), among others.