In De Cara Al Sol, Diego Vourakis Journeys Into the Sun-Tinged Landscape of Cuba

November 27, 2023

Sometimes, a change in perspective is all it takes to flip a seemingly slack condition on its head. And as the world continues to grapple with the turbulent state of our times, all we’re after is to wipe the emotional slates clean to welcome some bracing vibes. Such is the case while gazing through Diego Vourakis’ latest piece of work, De Cara Al Sol: stemming from a desire to navigate the culture and community of Cuba, the photographer’s debut photobook is a sheer reflection of the country and all its sun-soaked glory, comprising a collection of images he took between 2020 and 2023. Made as a five-part book, the photographer captures the optimistic pride of Cuban life entwining love, community and family while weaving stories that are able to inspire change, igniting a conversation about what it means to live intentionally. “I approached this book with a very open heart, following my intuition about what felt 'right,' as cliché as that may sound,” Vourakis told office. “Whether it was a photo I was going to take or a story I wanted to tell, I would wait for that feeling. I knew it would come at some point; I just had to be patient.”

Interview by Chidozie Obasi
Photos by Diego Vourakis

How did Lima and its culture influence your photography while growing up?

I grew up in a very communal environment that had a profound influence on the way I approached photography. When I was a kid, one of my fondest memories was waiting for the clock to strike 4pm. All the kids from the street would call my brother and me to come out and play some activity like “trompo” or “canicas” until it got dark, and our parents would shout for us to come back home. We knew everyone on our street and the next one: our lives revolved around community. Life wasn't easy there; everyone was in similar circumstances, and what we were left with was the need to come together and truly understand the value of having each other. This laid the foundation for my upbringing. Community was incredibly important.

Could you unpack your heritage and what it was like growing up in your country?

Lima is a city where the past and present coexist. While growing up I was exposed to various cultural traditions and festivities that were incorporated in school. For most of my childhood, I lived in a small town on the outskirts of Lima, in the district of Mangomarca. Every summer, during the month of February, all of Peru would celebrate "carnival," a festivity used to mark the last few days before the Lenten season in the Christian calendar. For kids, it was celebrated with an ongoing water balloon fight throughout the month, along with dancing and music. Each region put its own spin on it, making it a lively and colorful celebration. It was my favorite time of the year as a kid! My grandma grew up in Yurimaguas, which is in the northeast of the Peruvian Amazon, and that had a significant influence with Amazonian traditions. These included traditional dances, cuisine, music, and even natural healing practices. It was pretty cool to have been exposed to such a diverse range of customs during my childhood.

What are your key messages that you like to convey in your practice?

A message I always try to convey is intentionality. Taking a photo, for me, is about mutual giving. In some of the most intimate images I've taken, there was a lot of trust involved from both sides. I often ask myself why I take photos, and it's these kinds of projects like De cara al sol that give it meaning. To be able to share photographs that speak a universal language, ones that could influence action, stimulate understanding, or evoke a feeling.

I have always seen this medium as a doorway into sharing my experiences. It is our upbringing and influences that shape our interests and make us unique. From there, each of us take our own paths and become interested in shooting subjects that remind us, in some way, of a part of our past lives or younger selves.

De Cara Al Sol is the title of your new book. What were your inspirations and references?

The title was inspired by one of Jose Marti’s poems, "Versos sencillos XXIII,” which is part of a series of 46 poems. In these verses, Marti talks about his experiences throughout different stages of his life and expresses principles and assessments about nature and poetry. Jose Marti is considered one of the most important figures in Cuba and a key factor in Cuba's fight for independence against Spain. It felt right to pay tribute to his work.

Why Cuba? What aspects do you find compelling?

I discovered a sense of familiarity while in Cuba, it uncovered a childhood feeling that resonated deeply with me. Initially, I had no intention of starting a project about Cuba. However, visiting and immersing myself in their culture sparked a profound curiosity, inspiring the creation of this project. I emphasize this point because I consider it crucial: it's the strong bonds they share and what 'community' truly means to them. It resonated with me, and I felt it deeply. Even as an outsider, they welcomed me with open arms. At its core, Cuba represents the strong sense of community and the love they have for one another. It's a beautiful feeling to be a part of. Their energy is truly magnetic.

What was your key focus while building the book? How long did it take?

A key focus for me was publishing this book under my new creative studio, AMILE, which I founded with two friends. It's the first creative project undertaken by the studio, and it's incredibly exciting to create and publish a book with a team of like-minded creatives. We spent approximately four months designing the book, along with some other projects that coincide with it. It has been a highly rewarding journey. This whole project took approximately three years to create. Most of it is derived from my most recent trip to Cuba. During my initial visits, I focused primarily on absorbing the culture. I realized I had to cultivate a profound knowledge of the island, not only from my point of view as an outsider but also to comprehend the Cuban perspective. This involved building relationships and gathering stories to effectively convey through this book. The objective is to immerse you in a sense of curiosity, encouraging readers to explore further, to draw inspiration from these stories, and ultimately, to visit Cuba. It aims to kindle an interest in the island and its unique charm. It serves as a reminder that, now more than ever, we need each other and a sense of community. The Cubans demonstrated to me how simple happiness can truly be.

There’s a recurrent theme of nature that runs through the book. Why does it play such a huge part?

It naturally evolved this way; I feel most alive and fulfilled when surrounded by nature. I find great peace and clarity within it. It transports me back to a simpler memory of my childhood. Nature has the power to humble and ground you. In Cuba, I felt so attracted to the unique and untouched nature the island holds.

What’s your favorite photograph in the book? Why?

It would have to be the image of the kids in the playground, primarily because of the feelings it evoked while I was there. During my travels in Cuba, various encounters would stir emotions that led to memories from my past. This particular image serves as a vivid reminder of a time when I was a child in Lima and the clock would strike 4pm, and my brother and I would run outside to play with our friends.

What’s next for you?

What's next is our focus on organizing various exhibitions and activations for 'De Cara al Sol' across the US, Mexico, Europe, and the UK, all while sharing these profound stories with the world. I'm also excited about creating more philanthropic projects under AMILE. The two friends I'm starting the studio with bring unique backgrounds to the table, and together, we aim to make a positive impact.

And your future hopes?

I hope that this project has an impact on the Cuban community, initiates meaningful conversations, and inspires other creatives to use their talents to effect change — to use our voices to make a difference. I also hope that 'De Cara Al Sol' marks the beginning of a series of books where I can explore more about other cultures. Aiming to promote cultural understanding and celebrate the richness and diversity of our world.

Art

Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.

By Enzo Holdt
Artworks by Pamela Sneed

Art

Tiebreaker - Alvin Armstrong

November 15, 2024

There is a moment of silence right before the play. Just before the racket strikes the ball as it hangs weightless in the air, breathless and charged. It’s the fleeting yet decisive instant that can alter the course of the match, determining who wins and who loses.

Alvin Armstrong depicts this crucial moment in his new exhibition Tiebreaker, symbolizing the risks and rewards of competition. It’s an implication of something else at stake, where athletes push not only their bodies, but their spirits to the absolute limit.

The dynamic figures embody the strength, grace, and agility juxtaposed by the vibrant color palette evoking not just the joy of competition but the charged energy of the court.

Tiebreaker is opening Thursday, November 16th at Anna Zorina Gallery.

By Rea Brayshaw
Artworks by Alvin Armstrong

Art

The Things People Are Ashamed To Take Photos Of: The Photography and Films of Yuhan Cheng

Yuhan’s latest exhibition of photo and video work titled 窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里 takes its namesake from what could’ve been a mundane encounter. A month after moving to New York City from Chengdu, China, they stumbled across an abandoned fish tank left curbside. It reminded them of “the rotating fish in a tank that faded into the background of their mother’s home in Chengdu”, a thread connecting childhood familiarity that transformed into a symbol of greater significance in adulthood. A tank is a world within a world; a microcosm secluded from the broader chaos of the outside. Since then Yuhan has captured the other kinds of “fish tanks” closest to them in their photography and short films. Not literal ones necessarily– but intimate confined spaces in Chengdu and NYC where time stands still.

In the midst of taking snapshots of loved ones, Yuhan decided to turn their tender but examining lens on themselves. They realized shooting self-portraits unraveled a deeper understanding of their own nonbinary gender and queer sexuality. Yuhan admits in one of their short films “I hide from looking at my own body.” Yet, in the seclusion of their room which doubles as a dark room, Yuhan began to develop their first nude photos chronicling the subtle wounds; bitten cuticles, bruises, and scrapes they’ve accumulated involuntarily, once again documenting the things people choose to hide.

窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里, debuted at FAR-NEAR Studio Hours a gallery in Chinatown focused on expanding the art world's view of Asia and Asian artists curated by Lulu Yao Gioiello. The event merged Yuhan’s works from the past three years, including 70 photographs, three short documentaries, and one installation. There was something uncanny about the gallery’s atmosphere – from the dollar store teal green curtains obscuring every window to the clusters of framed photos mimicking how photos of relatives are displayed in one’s childhood home, to the darkened lighting that was both disorienting and cozy. All these details were meticulously chosen to imitate the rooms depicted in Yuhan’s films and photography. In other words, the audience was invited to Yuhan’s “fishtank”, to share the odd balance of comfort and unease of being known intimately. We talked to Yuhan at Cafe Reggio to understand how their latest body of work came into being.

Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity.

Ora Margolis— Were any memories/childhood experiences you had in Chengdu important to how you've developed as an artist?

Yuhan Cheng— Growing up in Chengdu, especially in a military household, shaped and gave me a source of contention how I understood my identity. There was always a sense of conflict when it came to my body and feeling like I didn’t quite fit the expectations around me. This tension has been a driving force in my practice, pushing me to explore identity and belonging in my work.

Tell us a bit about your latest exhibition Outside the Window, Inside the Tank at Far. What headspace were you in when taking these photos?

YC— Outside the Window, Inside the Tank is about the fluidity of self; our bodies, our environments, and our identities. The idea of water as both a symbol of confinement and freedom is central to the photos and film that comprise the exhibit. This fluidity much like how I see my experience moving between Chengdu and New York, where similar feelings follow me no matter where I am. Water mirrors the body, the frame, and the room, which are all containers of the self.

Previously, you’ve said you wanted the exhibition space to look "like your room". How did you make that happen and why is your NYC room important to you?

YC— My room in NYC is an extension of my identity. It’s where I feel vulnerable and where I explore myself most openly. It’s a manifestation of my sense of self. I recreated certain elements in the exhibition—the green sheer curtains, the dollar store shower curtain with bubbles, and the center installation depicted a self-portrait deteriorating in water, reminiscent of a fish in a tank. This room, like any other room or container, magnifies the tension of self-exploration.

Has your idea or comfort with your gender identity and /sexuality changed since you’ve delved into photography?

YC— Yes. The process of photography and filming has been a mirror to my own understanding of self. Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity. The process of photographing my queer friends and then myself allowed me to come to terms with who I am.

How did you and Lulu Yao of FAR-NEAR Studio meet, and what makes her a good collaborator?

YC— We first connected when I reached out with my series Princess of Funan River. Lulu understood the struggles and complexities in the work and she invited me to expand on those ideas with her. Our collaboration has worked because Lulu truly resonates with the themes I’m drawn to, like fluidity, transformation, and the intimacy of navigating belonging.

After completing Fish Tank and Remnants of an Amateur Film, what kind of movie do you want to make next?

YC— Right now, I’m more focused on writing. I need to understand what I want to say before making another film. Writing helps me find clarity;it’s a crucial part of my process.

What kind of camera do you use and why?

YC— I use a Canon AE-1. I started with it and I still love it. It's small, spontaneous, easy to use, and light. It allows me to capture moments naturally without overthinking.

What's your biggest fear?

YC— Being disconnected from my sense of self, from others, and from the things I love.

When do you feel most like yourself?

YC— It’s during those fleeting moments when I complete a project. That feeling fades quickly, leaving me searching for the next project to reconnect with that sense of fulfillment.

How do you want people to feel when they interact with your art?

YC— I want them to feel whatever resonates with them. I don’t want to prescribe the experience; it should feel right for each person.

Your work focuses on the close knit communities that surround you or various metaphorical “fish tanks”. What communities do you feel closest to?
YC— The queer artist community, both in Chengdu and NYC, has been a source of comfort and understanding for me. There’s something about shared struggles and shared creative language that feels like home.

What's the biggest difference between living life as a queer artist in NYC and in Chengdu?

YC— In both NYC and Chengdu, I’m learning more about myself. NYC offers a sense of freedom, while Chengdu is home, a place of comfort and history. Neither place defines me but both are significant parts of my path.

What are your next moves/goals?

YC— I want to continue exploring both film and photography, expanding my narrative style and experimenting across mediums. During my show, I found new ways of seeing my photographs such as by adding a window screen between frames or letting a self-portrait fade and grow mold in water. These approaches allowed me to see my work not just as 2D images but as 3D objects.

I want to keep pushing the boundaries of how photo and film can interact, and I’m also interested in trying photojournalism. My focus remains on collaborating across mediums and continuing to accumulate experiences that I can translate into sincere honest work.