CU fine arts
1 November 2003

HAVANA - Toronto Star - The bus tour is a necessary evil for solo travellers, the way to become familiar with a new place with a minimum of grief, provided you are prepared to put up with many sentences beginning with "to your left ..."  But while on a bus tour dubbed "colonial Havana" last June (a surprisingly worthwhile outing), there was an unexpected treat thrown in. One member of the group ditched the guide, spent the day on his own, and returned to the bus late that afternoon fairly glowing with the thrill of discovery. "I have found one of the greatest museums I've ever seen," he announced as the coach rolled back to the hotel. He described what he had seen and the hook was set.

Next year on my annual trip to Jibacoa, a jewel tucked away in the Cuban countryside far from the tourist-clogged insanity of Varadero, I included a day at the magnificent art museum he described - actually a pair of museums under the banner of the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes (National Museum of Fine Arts). Given that Havana itself is a living, breathing, pulsing museum, it may seem overkill to leave its vibrant streets to tour the galleries housed in two buildings - the universal art collection and the Cuban art museum. But it is not. The man on the bus was right. Closed for five years and reopened by President Fidel Castro in July, 2001 after a $14.5 million (U.S.) restoration that saw the Cuban art museum move into its own modern building just down the street from the universal art museum, the collection has no superstars, no da Vinci's Mona Lisa or Rembrandt's Night Watch.

What it does have is better in many ways, a compact grouping of pieces from an Egyptian sarcophagus. They are housed in a glass case that can be viewed from a glass floor in an upper level along with Roman mosaics, stained glass from the Middle Ages and paintings from England, France and Spain. There's even an impressive, although brief, collection of Flemish works. And on the Cuban side, one of the finest art museums of Latin American works anywhere, you can watch the evolution of the island's art from religious images of the 16th century through periods of Impressionism, Art Deco and Art Nouveau, Modernism and Revolutionary art. There are also striking installations by Cuba's current bright artistic lights, including an arresting display of oversized plates filled with bones and other artefacts by Robert Fabelo called La Mesa 2003 (The Table).

Another interesting work is a collage of boomerangs forming the map of the island - a political statement praising ex-pat Cubans who have chosen to return. In all, the collection contains more than 30,000 pieces and is valued at $600 million (U.S.) While it's not necessary to hire a museum guide ($2 U.S. for a half day), I knew nothing of Cuban art, so the man who accompanied me was an invaluable resource. (Guides can be hired at the entrance when you pay your $5 admission.) Highly educated as so many Cubans today are, Adriel Gómez has a master's degree in art history, spoke almost-perfect English and possessed an encyclopaedic knowledge of art that allowed him to put everything I looked at into context. Like the Louvre, part of the beauty of the universal art museum's collection is the striking interior of the building that houses it. Built in 1927, the former Asturian Center was a grand Spanish social club, a white confection built in a palatial style to suit all the requirements of colonial society.

A sweeping marble staircase rises up from the entry to a grand foyer beneath a huge and stunning stained-glass ceiling that shows Columbus' discovery of the New World. The galleries run around what was the ballroom, an expansive, multi-storied space rimmed with ornate plaster carvings. Even the museum café is a work of art, a mosaic-ringed room with massive carved wooden bar done in a Spanish art nouveau style. Each gallery's walls are painted a different colour to denote the theme: British, Flemish, French, Spanish and so on, while the centre of the museum with its Greek statuary, pottery and impressive collection of Roman mosaics is painted a rich, deep cranberry. Although the galleries get plenty of natural light through thinly covered floor-to-ceiling windows, a new, multi-million-dollar Italian lighting system makes the works spring to life. Typical of Cuba, which struggles with shortages, several display cases are dark, the lights burned out, or not working.

The museum, which recently celebrated its 90th anniversary, was founded in 1913, but its collection swelled considerably around the time of the revolution. For example, the American collection of portraits on the ground floor, including George Washington and Henry Clay, were likely in the offices of U.S. companies prior to 1959. I had heard tales that many other pieces were left behind after people fled Cuba for America but I couldn't seem to get a straight answer to my queries. My guide said the bulk of the universal collection was a gift from Joaquín Gumá Herrera, the Count of Lagurillas, in 1956, an eccentric who bought his title and travelled the world to add to his massive collection of antiquities. But while the provenance of the collection may spark curiosity, it is the works themselves that are the stars of these two museums.  That night I went back to my hotel and told the other guests about the museums and their treasures. A few of them hired a taxi the next morning and headed into Havana to see for themselves, returning to spread the word, just like the man on the bus: "I have found one of the greatest museums I've ever seen."