Seven Cuban Poets

Siete poetas cubanos

 

Denise Levertov graffitti on the stairs to la azotea.
photo by K. Dykstra

Introduction
Kristin Dykstra

Seven Cuban poets gathered to read their work on June 18, 2001, at Reina María Rodríguez and Jorge Miralles’ rooftop apartment in Havana. I recorded selected poems during the reading, which we present here with the poets’ permission. They provided me with biographical information and allowed me to take photographs for the project.

These seven poets represent great diversity in not just generations or personalities but also in their visions of language. Rather than give an overview of their work here, which you can listen to for yourself by clicking on the poem listings, I’d like to briefly discuss something harder to see or hear at this website: the place and time of the reading itself.

The apartment is known as "la azotea de Reina," or "Reina’s rooftop." As a culturally inflected space, the azotea has had many different potential meanings since its construction in the 1980s. It is both a private family home and a space that Rodríguez and Miralles open to other intellectuals as a literary salon. Many rooftop events and informal activities have been created by, about, and for local artists and writers. Other events foster short- or long-term connections with intellectuals of all kinds from around the world.

In this introduction, I want to make the point that the azotea does not have a history as an art-making or art-sharing space that can be written in a linear fashion--even if we have to try to write these kinds of unified stories in order to comprehend a little of its meaning. We could center our storytelling on Reina herself as a writer, on the life she has shared with Jorge Miralles and her family members at the azotea, on the changing fortunes of the many Cuban intellectuals who have gathered at the azotea in the past, or on some other important image.

Looking for one kind of story or logic to explain its many and multidirectional branches, its dead ends, overlaps and inconsistencies, may be useful on some level . . . but the product of that search seems destined to be inaccurate. Instead I will briefly describe the azotea in terms of its genealogy, in a Foucauldian sense.

Some ideals associated with the azotea: To lead to better thinking, better writing, better art. To provide a challenge. To provide an alternative space to official cultural institutions. And Reina says that she has always wanted the space to be non-hierarchical, which is not just about relations among different people at the azotea, but about mentally arranging the world: art/writing/intellect need not be forcibly separated from one’s daily, domestic life.

We can spot certain roots or branches that wander out from the "center" of the azotea’s identity (be that center a person or a place). Many former participants now live in Mexico, Spain, New York, Miami, Venezuela, or somewhere else, just somewhere not in Havana. A variation: after working together at the azotea, some people started their own new projects, like Diásporas, which involves both exiles and people still living and working on the island.

Another point: many people who have participated in events at the azotea would not define it as an origin or even a space central to their own work. Instead: intertwined roots and branches from other places, other systems, other ways of doing and thinking.

As for the 6/18/01 reading itself, what might one make of it as an event?

As usual, there were many writers present to hear the readings, several dear friends, and lots of friends of friends, most needing identification only by their first or last names in accordance with good Havana style.

Yet it was an event which to some might seem impure, since it was partly organized by outsiders visiting Havana. In fact, some audience members were students, some professors, skirting a boundary that is often felt to be problematic: is writing still somehow organic, "real," spontaneous, meaningful when presented in an academic setting? What kinds of problems of authority and hierarchy are created by such activities?

We can also consider the reading from another perspective: all seven poets had previously participated in the January 2001 cultural festival, "Encounter: First Festival of Language Poetry," held at the Cuban Book Institute/House of Letters on the Plaza de Armas. The festival promoted international dialogue and translation. Poet and translator Rosa Alcalá took part in this festival, which is part of the reason that she and Dr. José Buscaglia, both from the State University of New York at Buffalo, asked these poets to give the June 2001 reading at the azotea. Alcalá and Buscaglia were responding to both ideals and practical benefits of that festival organized by Rodríguez and other Cubans who continue to actively write, converse, and struggle to produce new and exciting work. Like many writers, they see not just isolated contemplation but different kinds of dialogue as crucial to the development of good thinking and writing.

Physically, the azotea continues to morph over time. Newly renovated in 2001 to meet changing family needs, the apartment has a smaller open-air terrace for readings and parties than in the past.

The family cats continue to roam and yowl and preen and sulk in corners and under chairs.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT:

I would like to thank Dr. Dennis Tedlock, the McNulty Chair (Department of English) and the Center for the Americas at the State University of New York at Buffalo for funding that made my work on this project possible.