HUMBERTO CHÁVEZ
My Objects, my History and my Rituals
“WHERE DO WE COME FROM? WHO ARE WE? WHERE ARE WE GOING?”
Paul Gauguin
“WHERE DO I COME FROM? WHO AM I? WHERE AM I GOING?”
Humberto Chávez
I AM A HOARDER
– Do I carry it in my DNA?
– How do others see it and think of it?
– Is it essential for my existence?
– Does it define me?
– Is it defined by me?
– Would I be a different person had I never been a hoarder?
When I left Cuba for the U.S. I did not take with me any of my objects, history or rituals from childhood. However, they have lived with me all these years in thoughts and dreams, resurfacing when I least expect it. My memories of family, friend,; acquaintances, objects, places, experiences, live in a space full of endless forms, shapes, colors, sounds, scents. They are my companions…my legacy…my Cabinet of Curiosities…, always with me till the end of time.
Throughout my life in this country many other objects, people and items have filled my life. Many live in my art, photographs, boxes, shelves, and closets, becoming companions of my childhood history. Some have passed, some fallen apart or disappeared, and like the ones in my early life, their memory lives in that space where they revisit my thoughts and dreams. They do not define me; instead, they entertain and color my life, like a family member, a friend, a book, a movie, a place, a passage in my art, a piece of music; they move me, guide me through life, inspire me to create, and, if I let them, haunt and terrify me if I try to understand who I am and what they mean to me. Do other people share a similar experience to mine?
MY CABINET OF CURIOSITIES
PEOPLE
My family and relatives, teachers, schoolmates, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, companions, lovers
OBJECTS
Utilitarian items, my art, my art materials note, names, addresses and phone numbers, favorite clothes, toiletries
EVENTS AND PLACES
Daily life situations, school, jobs, walks, dates and love affairs, trips, parties, exhibitions, concerts
FEELINGS
Pleasure, sadness, pain, trauma, loss, loneliness, hatred, compassion, patience
SOME OF MY ENDLESS LIST OF OBJECTS, MEMORIES AND RITUALS FROM MY CABINET OF CURIOSITIES
The mug decorated with little lambs that my mother used to serve oatmeal to me
My father caning our old dining chairs, while he asked me to quietly watch and don’t ask any questions
The unforgettable tender, sensual feeling I felt from the close contact with another child’s body in kindergarten
The birthday visits to my grandmother, with her room full of religious devotional objects and books and a prie-dieu where she knelt to pray and meditate
The rain falling in my central courtyard, bubbling up and running into the drain like marching soldiers
The young man in my neighborhood who once took me to the children’s playground to play with the toys when I was six years old
The little chicks I used to raise into full size hens and roosters
Adelfa, the third grade teacher I loved
The papier-mâché object in the shape of the island of Cuba that I created as a school project
The scent from my new schoolbooks at the beginning of the school year
The memory of my mother taking my three sisters to a dance event at a club for teenagers of marrying age
The raffia handbags my sister Olga used to embroider with flower designs and sell
Fermina, the very old African-Cuban homeless lady, probably a child of slaves, who wandered the streets of the neighborhood I lived as a little boy
The wound on my head made by one of the stones a mischievous bully threw at Fermina while she danced, hitting me instead
The Christmas tree ornaments and nativity scene, and my yearly letters to the Three Kings
A drawing I made of a tree when I was eight years old
The night my mother chaperoned my three teenage sisters to a ball at the neighborhood club
My electric tumbler for polishing beach stones
My film projector and a few films from the 40s
My colored pencils, my watercolors, my brushes
The two Art-Deco wall vases in the living room, with philodendron plants
My piano, which I never had a chance to learn how to play
The bicycle my father gave me when I was 15
The paper notes holder in the shape of a mousetrap, with the figure of a trapped mouse, its head missing
My lonely walks along the rocky coast of the bay in Cojimar, the beach town in Havana that inspired Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea
My first traumatic love affair and sexual experience
I’VE BEEN A HOARDER FROM THE START AND WILL ALWAYS BE
