An homage to Cuba at this historic moment, Cubaneo is an ongoing series of photo-mosaic murals, audio interviews, and field recordings created on 3 trips to Santiago de Cuba, Baracoa, Havana, Viñales, Cienfuegos and Trinidad de Cuba shortly before and after President Obama's landmark trip in March 2016 and most recently in February 2017 after the death of Fidel Castro. Each mosaic is between 5 and 15 feet wide and is handmade from hundreds, sometimes thousands, of 4x6" photographs, taken from different angles. Neither a computer nor Photoshop is used. A slow, painstaking, and antiquated method, they are the product of synchronistic events, deep conversations and personal relationships. Culled from dozens of audio interviews conducted in Spanish, diverse voices and perspectives reveal the inner worlds of everyday Cubans.


Che 2016 Photo-mosaic 42x54

Eighty smaller square 6x6" photo-mosaics. Each took between 1 and 3 hours to create. A mash-up of Alberto Korda's iconic image with Chuck Close's method, only I use photo-mosaic instead of paint. Father of the Cuban revolution, constructed by hand with thousands of patchwork images of Cuba today, revealing a complex legacy.


Las Damas de Noche | The Ladies at Night Santiago de Cuba 2015 Photo-mosaic 54x59


El Asado de Cerdo | The Pig Roast Santiago de Cuba 2015 Photo-mosaic 38x75


Escuela Primaria Guerrillero Heroico | Heroic Guerrilla Elementary School Cienfuegos 2017 Photo-mosaic 69x142


Callejón de Hamel Havana 2016 Photo-mosaic 36x132

Every Sunday this block rocks to the rumba rhythms. Closed off to traffic and surrounded by hundreds of feet of building-high murals by Cuban artist Salvador Gonzáles Escalon, it's the perfect place to get lost in the power and soulful beauty of Afro-Cuban music.


La Familia Sánchez en Casa | The Sánchez Family at Home Santiago de Cuba 2015 Photo-mosaic 44x137


La Familia Lucero | The Lucero Family Santiago de Cuba 2015 Photo-mosaic 48x86


El Pintor Lincoln Camué | The Painter Lincoln Camué Santiago de Cuba 2015 Photo-mosaic 50x94

Portraits of Afro-Cuban women in a store-front window caught my eye. As I approached, a voice beckoned me in. It was Lincoln Camué (82), the renowned painter and this was his studio, a room at the front of his home. We talked for an hour, connecting as artists. I returned a week later to chat some more.


Bucanero en Playa Ancón | Buccaneer at Ancón Beach
Trinidad de Cuba 2017 Photo-mosaic 46x68


Nena la del Valle de los Ingenios Abajo | Nena from the Bottom of Sugar Mill Valley
Trinidad de Cuba 2017 Photo-mosaic 46x68


El Malécon Havana 2017 Photo-mosaic 57x172


El Vendedor de Verduras | The Vegetable Seller Santiago de Cuba 2016 Photo-mosaic 40x73


El Coche Verde | The Green Car Old Havana 2016 Photo-mosaic 68x94

I happened upon this scene in Habana Vieja. A solitary man, without parts, without tools, reviving his car. Progress was glacial, but evident. Everyone focuses on the shiny old cars. But they all start here. He said the engine is an '82 Toyota, the body a late 50s American model. Classic Cuban ingenuity.


Patria es Revolucion | Homeland is Revolution Viñales 2016 Photo-mosaic 44x142


Yordany y La Lavandería | Yordany and the Laundry Viñales 2016 Photo-mosaic 49x67


Yosnel en Valle de Viñales | Yosnel in Viñales Valley 2016 Photo-mosaic 36x128

We rode with Yosnel for 5 hours, galloping, bodies in unison, flying through the Cuban outback, pounding the dirt, slicing through space.


La Tiendita | The Corner Store Santiago de Cuba 2016 45x75


El Puto | The Gigolo Viñales 2016 Photo-mosaic 38x181

Why Cuba? Because it’s always captured my imagination. Because it celebrates its African and Indigenous roots in so many ways. Because the musical talent is astounding, the clave beat bouncing off Spanish tile roof tops. Because its rivers and oceans are pristine. Because it’s so full of heart and soul, and people look out for each other. I could go on. Because it’s Caribbean yin to American yang. Because I’m a salsero and dancing is a national pastime. Because joy is abundant, despite dramatic material shortages and palpable suffering. Because I’m a southern Italian New Yorker and it feels like home, like Sundays at grandma’s, so nourishing, so complete. Cuba is an abandoned way of life, like Sicily fifty years ago, brimming with simple pleasures, accidental adventures and profound human connection. But really, because my friends were organizing a trip so I went. And this is what happened.