Rachel Valdés (Havana, Cuba, 1990) likes soft, sweet coffee and listening to Afro-Cuban music while creating meticulous and geometric works. Today in her workshop Yoruba Andabo and Los Muñequitos de Matanzas play, pure tropical warmth in a white and very tidy space in the Les Corts neighborhood (Barcelona). There she works on her hypnotic series of drawings about swimming pools, memories of her childhood in Nuevo Vedado. Also in the labyrinths of reflections of her, sculptures on a smaller scale than her monumental public installations.
What relationship does it have with mirrors?
Deep but by accident. My first connection came to me at the National Academy of Fine Arts in Havana. He had to work with the first material he found and it turned out to be a piece of mirror. Then I was interested in Russian constructivism, figures like Tatlin or Malevich, minimizing the form and reflecting something and at the same time dialoguing with what does not exist, because the reflection is an illusion. I am seduced by playing with the extent to which things are real or not.
What is the big false perception that people can have of you?
I don’t know how they really see me. Maybe I can seem very serious or very somber, but I also have a very tropical side. We still have many prejudices, such as that, because of my physique or my skin or eye color, I do not meet the Cuban stereotype.
When your name came to the media for being a partner of the singer Alejandro Sanz, how did you manage it?
It was a shock, an emotional impact that I tried to bear as best I could. It was not easy to deal with that situation.
Was there anything that particularly bothered you or that seemed unfair?
I cannot consider it unfair, but it is difficult to manage. I had to deal with people’s assumptions and prejudices.
I imagine that when they started they thought, oops! the one that is coming to me…
No, I wasn’t very aware at the time. She was focused on other things.
Has your heart healed?
I’ve never had a broken heart, honestly. Human beings have the great capacity to adapt. The moments of inflection are what make us evolve, because in moments of plenitude, of happiness, very little is learned, the truth is.
Should you always close the door on a relationship that is ending or should you leave a thread of communication?
There are always emotional ties, things are never completely broken.
Art can be therapeutic?
Art is definitely therapeutic, at least for the person who does it it is very therapeutic. And I think also for the one who receives it.
What has it cured you of?
For me it has been a necessity since I was very little. It was like finding a new form of expression. But I don’t make art because it heals me, but because I need it. Although it is true that in moments of chaos or great stress, focusing and concentrating helps you eliminate the outside noise and only that silence of the present moment remains, creating something specific.
Who do you call on a bad day?
Definitely, to my psychologist. I think it is important to take care of your mental health and have professional support without emotions involved.
Are there more artists in your family?
My grandfather was an art historian. He died when I was 7 years old and he left me his books.
What did your parents think about you dedicating yourself to art?
They have always liked the idea. Since they saw me so motivated drawing, they knew that was my passion. My mother took me to cultural houses, to painting competitions. In Cuba, since life is so surreal, these things happen. That you want to be an artist? Perfect, because education is free. If they see you with a little talent, they support you. At least in my case it was like that, I don’t like to generalize either.
She won awards since she was little.
At the age of 7 I won my first prize with a portrait of Fidel, a contest on the occasion of his birthday. They gave me a lot of material to continue working on, a luxury in the middle of the special period, when there was nothing.
And now he exhibits in his homeland and beyond.
For me it has been very comforting to participate in the Havana biennials. The first was in 2012, with Happily ever after, my first public work and on the Malecón, a place with a very strong symbolic and historical charge. I think all artists have that need to feel a little understood.
Does your son, Máximo, show signs of being an artist?
No, he is 9 years old and his passion is soccer. Like any mother, she fully supports her dreams, whatever her talents. Although I would love to see that artistic vein in him, I feel useful as a mother by supporting his passion, even if he doesn’t understand much about soccer.
What would you like to convey to him?
That he grew up with good self-esteem, positive thinking and the ability to sacrifice. These are fundamental pillars for human growth and development, regardless of the profession you choose.
What advice would you give your 10-year-old self?
May she continue to believe in herself and maintain her inner strength.
She made her first steps as a model…
I did some fashion work in Cuba during my teens, including a Marc Anthony music video. It was a brief but interesting experience.
Has your appearance affected your artistic career?
The art world has many prejudices. Sometimes I feel like artists are expected to fit certain stereotypes.
What has been your biggest stroke of luck?
I don’t believe in luck as much as I believe in preparation and hard work. My participation in the Havana Biennial was a crucial moment in my career.
Do you have a life motto?
Two that I have always followed are “everything that happens, is good.”
What place has left an indelible mark on you?
My installation The beginning of the end in New York was especially significant. Seeing people from different cultures interact with my work in Times Square was an enriching experience.
Do you know your collectors?
Sometimes yes sometimes no. Many times galleries don’t tell you who they are. Almost always, when the works are gone, it is the last time you see them. When a work has cost me a lot of effort, it is as if I had given birth and then the child handed it over to another, because it is something that you begin to engender, it evolves, you materialize it and then you hand it over. When you finish it, you feel faint.
Does creation suck a lot of energy?
Art is very connected to spirituality. The energy you have to pour out is often very strong. It is a divine exercise.
And where do you recharge your energy?
The satisfaction of seeing it accomplished helps to have even more creativity, to develop new paths, new aspects. Creation is like an avalanche that is getting very big; The more you believe, the more ideas you have, the more desires and the more strength. I think I get the energy a little from there, I get feedback from what I’m doing, new ideas and inspiration.
So you don’t get off that wave?
Meditating near trees, sitting near a river or going to the sea automatically recharges me. It helps me reconnect with my inner self and my spirit.
A place that has amazed you?
The antartida. It was many years ago. Being able to visit a place so inhospitable and so remote, and having that feeling of solitude and such powerful nature, is one of the things that has impacted me the most. It’s a lot of white, a lot of light and a lot of silence.
To create, listen to Cuban music, with Yoruba roots. And to calm down?
I listen to classical music, which more than calms me down, helps me elevate myself, to feel everything in a more positive and vital way. It activates me but at peace. And to relax, I usually listen to Tibetan bowls and music with frequencies that help eliminate mental noise.
What excites you especially?
Music has a very great emotional power. The smells are also very evocative. I love tropical fruits in general, especially mango and guava.
What do you feel when you return to Cuba, longing, sadness, joy?
It is a strange feeling because it is longing for the experiences and moments lived, but you know that that is not going to come back. Every time I go I have that feeling of wonder, but also of nostalgia. For me, Cuba is always a sea of ??emotions.
Your parents are in Cuba, how do you experience that detachment?
You have to accept it to be able to integrate and welcome the place you are in with open arms, also adapt to the culture and people of the place, but never abandoning your roots.
What would your ideal home be like?
I like minimalism, but with natural materials. A simple house, with white walls, lots of light and nature.
And in which place?
Honestly, I don’t have a specific place in mind, I don’t believe in staying in one place for a lifetime.
What visual artists do you look up to?
I really like minimalism. Also Latin American abstract, geometric art, concretism. But also American abstract expressionism, for example Barnett Newman or William de Kooning, who is one of my favorite painters, or Joan Mitchell.
What work of another would you have liked to do?
There are very nice pieces by Joan Mitchell. Last year they held a retrospective of Michel with Monet at the Louis Vuitton Foundation. And the connection between the landscapes of both was impressive. There were some events on a monumental scale that I said to myself: “My God, I would have loved to do this myself.” This woman is powerful.
The pools he is drawing are hypnotic… they make you dizzy.
I wanted to be a swimmer and my mother took me to a place in Havana, in Nuevo Vedado, where there were some pools that were almost always empty. Those profound figures remained in my subconscious. I represent them, some time later, as kind of monuments to oblivion, as archaeological landscapes. I already exhibited some last year at the La Cometa gallery.
Any exhibitions on the horizon?
I feel good because now I don’t have any urgent exhibitions, so I can work more calmly, especially when developing new ideas you need to be very at peace because with the pressure of deadlines you don’t really concentrate. So now it’s a period of a lot of creation and production for me.
Are you afraid of repetition?
I don’t usually repeat myself a lot. So it is true that I repeat myself in the concept but not in the visual physical idea.
Where would you like to have one of your monumental pieces?
In the Sahara desert. I am attracted to inhospitable places because they help you connect with yourself and your spirit.
What is the nicest thing that has been said about you as an artist?
I am very satisfied when people really feel what they are seeing and thank you for moving or reminding them of something. That connection is very special and rewarding as a creator.
