Vermont State House
Sarducci's restaurant
Streetscape
By the River
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Norwich University, Northfield Vermont
Oliver and I went to Montpelier for lunch at Sarducci's and then we visited the school where Jorge Oliva, my darling Cuban friend, taught in 1984-85. An old military college where Frederick Townsend Ward, subject of my Uncle R.O. Patterson's A Mandarin from Salem studied briefly.
Hello from Stowe, Vermont
Oliver Budde picked me up at the airport in Montreal after the various customs formalities, successfuly completed. Friday we went snow shoeing up Smuggler's Notch.
It's great to be back home. The border guard's birthday was one day before mine.
Manuel Chavez, my host at Escobar 575
Chavez was unremitting in his hospitality and was my daily companion as a guide to the way things went and are going in Cuba. He took me to the airport for my flight on Thursday and I got him next to one of the countless vintage cars in Havana. We were stopped by the police there, as Cuban aren't allowed free contact with foreigners, but we quickly came up with my being his widowed brother-in-law and that did the trick.
Malecon and the US blgd and Maine Monument
This spectacular seaside walk was built by Gen. Wood and provides and view of the Amercian ex-Embassy and the momento of American intervention, the 1896 version of WMD, the Maine. Plus a fancy new cafe on the waterfront.
Brian Soto, the karate kid
Juan is helping to raise this delightful 8 year old whose father dumped him for Miami. He brings a heart full of love and happiness to Chavez's house. Juan is in the background of the second picture.
More Havana Photos
Sending my last batches of pix from my Cuba trip.
The river across to Miramar where Marta Oliva lives.
Her living room.
The Museum of Decorative Arts.
The fabulous stained glassed window in the lobby of the Museum of Fine Arts.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Last Days in Havana
Since the beach on Easter Sunday I've been absorbing the sun and reading Garcia Marquez's El amor en los tiempos del colera, Already read it in English but am savouring the Spanish, though my vocabulary doen't stretch the whole way.
Today I gave a newstand man at the port a photo I took of him in 2005. He had become quite frial, but remembered me with enthusiasm and affection. A lovely old man. Will insert his photo soon.
Had lechon, a Cuban pork dish with all the goodies in Marta's garden yesterday along with lots of wine and lots of chit chat. They seem very approving of little borther Raul Castro.
Tomorrow I fly to Montreal and will pick up from there.
Adios, amigos, Hasta pronto!
Today I gave a newstand man at the port a photo I took of him in 2005. He had become quite frial, but remembered me with enthusiasm and affection. A lovely old man. Will insert his photo soon.
Had lechon, a Cuban pork dish with all the goodies in Marta's garden yesterday along with lots of wine and lots of chit chat. They seem very approving of little borther Raul Castro.
Tomorrow I fly to Montreal and will pick up from there.
Adios, amigos, Hasta pronto!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Wonderful trip to the Santa Maria del Mar, Easter
With Marta Oliva,
her charming daughter Claudia and her kiddies, Sofia and Alessandro,
Cabana chairs and umbrellas, good pizza and beer, Che Mas!
Knabenchor Hannover at Teatro Amedeo in Vedado
Ausgezeichnet und Entzuckend,
Plus the poster for the programme at the Gran Teatro Friday and
my wonderful space at Chavez's house
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Gran Teatro de La Habana
Last night was a celebration of the century of the Hotel Sevilla where Graham Greene and many others stayed and played. Ballet, opera, danse, boleros a nice mix. I took several film clips which I´ll upload when I learn how.
Tomorrow the BEACH!
Tomorrow the BEACH!
Friday, March 21, 2008
Santa Clara 3
Santa Clara
A Day Outside the Capital
Thursday was excursion day. In previous trips I’ve managed to see a good deal of the island in trips that were relatively short, but full of things and places. In 2003 there was a memorable week going to Trinidad, full of music and wonderful horse rides in the country, Sancti Spiritu, Santiago and Guantanamo. That’s where II meet and was most kindly received by Flora Boti . This Guantanamera was at one time married to my dear friend Jorge Oliva, who was from that city and who swam through the mangroves from there to freedom in the early seventies. Her father was also a poet and the man of letters and I have copies of his books given to me by Marta. Then In 2003 there was a trip to Camaguey which Chavz calls the Boston of Cuba, a city of churches where I had many interesting encounters, including the grandchildren of Patrick Fitzpatrick, the documentary filmmaker of the 30ies whose charming travelogues in primitive color they show on TMC. After that there was also a trip to Vinales and Cayo Levisa. So even though I’m only on a two week trip this time whose main focus is my friends in Centro Havana and the Old City I wanted to penetrate at least once into the Cuba beyond.
So yesterday I got up early to have time for the massage treatment that Barbara is giving me for my poor, somewhat disjointed, neck. She used an ultra sound instrument. Though rest is the best prescription to recoup from all the intense swimming of the past months,certainly the massage is helping the tension of the muscles affected by the fracture of my Altantis swivel bone from Lago di Ronciglione in 1979. The bus left at 10 and arrived non-stop at Santa Clara at One. On the bus they played the recent AMERICAN GANGSTER with Denzel Washington and Russell Crow and Ruby Dee I hadn’t seen. I walked from the station to the monument to Che Guevara,took a few pictures and visited the museum where his remains were brought from Bolivia a decade ago. Che’s time in Guatamala before meeting Fidel in Mexico brought to mind the walk on I did for a film called FACCIA DI SPIA in the episode about the role of the CIA in the downfall of the government of Arbenz in 1954. For years I had the satin tie I wore when I entered the scene as a secretary and announced a message from Washington. The American Foreign Service officer I got to play the role of ambassador said it was a realization in cinema of a career goal he had never reached. When the film came out he was aghast at Beppe Ferrara’s leftist characterization of the “arcane imperii”. After another walk I got to Parque VidaL in the center. I had a totally perfunctory lunch at the top of the only tall building, the Hotel Santa Clara Libre, where I took some photos. A couple of Bucanero beers put me in a less critical mood. This was good because I had to nod at the collection of bourgeois bric a brac that passes for a collection at the Museo de Artes Decorativas. One the other hand [“She wore a glove”, as mother would say} at the Galeria Marti I saw the work of a LOCAL ARTIST Robinson Rodriguez that had energy and worked with a blue reminiscent of Matisse that I really liked and almost bought. There was really much more to see so I headed back to the station after some meandering. The bus I was waiting for was delayed and so I took a taxi back with two guys intent on discussing the pros and cons of socialism the whole time. The driver was tall and handsome at 28. He had already driven from Havana with a fare in the morning and was pushing to make the money to buy a tricycle for his little child. The rain made it a long and dangerous drive. When He stopped to change the oil he noticed just in time that he had to change a wheel. I got home by eleven, tired and with a pain in the neck that may well remain as a sign that I’ve overdone it In the energy department. Right now I feel that it is a fair price to pay for thirty years of health after that accident which might well have left me paralyzed as it has so many others. What’s a few pain killers and muscle ache compared to that prospect?
Now I’ll insert a few photos.
First those from the Wednesday night concert at the Basilica of St. Francis by the women string players of the Camerata Romeu. Interesting Cuban works illustrating the influence of French music including works of Jose White and other Cubans. As there was no written program it was hard to get the names. But the sound was good. I was fascinated to see a reliquary containing some of the ashes of the Conquistador Hernan Cortez in the church. His expedition to Mexico left from Cuba and his interesting letters show the literacy of a university training unusual in a Spanish man of arms in the 16th century.
A Day Outside the Capital
Thursday was excursion day. In previous trips I’ve managed to see a good deal of the island in trips that were relatively short, but full of things and places. In 2003 there was a memorable week going to Trinidad, full of music and wonderful horse rides in the country, Sancti Spiritu, Santiago and Guantanamo. That’s where II meet and was most kindly received by Flora Boti . This Guantanamera was at one time married to my dear friend Jorge Oliva, who was from that city and who swam through the mangroves from there to freedom in the early seventies. Her father was also a poet and the man of letters and I have copies of his books given to me by Marta. Then In 2003 there was a trip to Camaguey which Chavz calls the Boston of Cuba, a city of churches where I had many interesting encounters, including the grandchildren of Patrick Fitzpatrick, the documentary filmmaker of the 30ies whose charming travelogues in primitive color they show on TMC. After that there was also a trip to Vinales and Cayo Levisa. So even though I’m only on a two week trip this time whose main focus is my friends in Centro Havana and the Old City I wanted to penetrate at least once into the Cuba beyond.
So yesterday I got up early to have time for the massage treatment that Barbara is giving me for my poor, somewhat disjointed, neck. She used an ultra sound instrument. Though rest is the best prescription to recoup from all the intense swimming of the past months,certainly the massage is helping the tension of the muscles affected by the fracture of my Altantis swivel bone from Lago di Ronciglione in 1979. The bus left at 10 and arrived non-stop at Santa Clara at One. On the bus they played the recent AMERICAN GANGSTER with Denzel Washington and Russell Crow and Ruby Dee I hadn’t seen. I walked from the station to the monument to Che Guevara,took a few pictures and visited the museum where his remains were brought from Bolivia a decade ago. Che’s time in Guatamala before meeting Fidel in Mexico brought to mind the walk on I did for a film called FACCIA DI SPIA in the episode about the role of the CIA in the downfall of the government of Arbenz in 1954. For years I had the satin tie I wore when I entered the scene as a secretary and announced a message from Washington. The American Foreign Service officer I got to play the role of ambassador said it was a realization in cinema of a career goal he had never reached. When the film came out he was aghast at Beppe Ferrara’s leftist characterization of the “arcane imperii”. After another walk I got to Parque VidaL in the center. I had a totally perfunctory lunch at the top of the only tall building, the Hotel Santa Clara Libre, where I took some photos. A couple of Bucanero beers put me in a less critical mood. This was good because I had to nod at the collection of bourgeois bric a brac that passes for a collection at the Museo de Artes Decorativas. One the other hand [“She wore a glove”, as mother would say} at the Galeria Marti I saw the work of a LOCAL ARTIST Robinson Rodriguez that had energy and worked with a blue reminiscent of Matisse that I really liked and almost bought. There was really much more to see so I headed back to the station after some meandering. The bus I was waiting for was delayed and so I took a taxi back with two guys intent on discussing the pros and cons of socialism the whole time. The driver was tall and handsome at 28. He had already driven from Havana with a fare in the morning and was pushing to make the money to buy a tricycle for his little child. The rain made it a long and dangerous drive. When He stopped to change the oil he noticed just in time that he had to change a wheel. I got home by eleven, tired and with a pain in the neck that may well remain as a sign that I’ve overdone it In the energy department. Right now I feel that it is a fair price to pay for thirty years of health after that accident which might well have left me paralyzed as it has so many others. What’s a few pain killers and muscle ache compared to that prospect?
Now I’ll insert a few photos.
First those from the Wednesday night concert at the Basilica of St. Francis by the women string players of the Camerata Romeu. Interesting Cuban works illustrating the influence of French music including works of Jose White and other Cubans. As there was no written program it was hard to get the names. But the sound was good. I was fascinated to see a reliquary containing some of the ashes of the Conquistador Hernan Cortez in the church. His expedition to Mexico left from Cuba and his interesting letters show the literacy of a university training unusual in a Spanish man of arms in the 16th century.
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