Dark visions: Gomez Peralta's vision of Cuba's urban lanscape is dark, some would say apocalyptic, as the whie edifices of his native Havana claw their way of the shadows momentarily, leaving us with no doubt that the darkness will eventually close in and swallow the city whole - Leader Of The Future

Latino Leaders: The National Magazine of the Successful American Latino, April-May, 2003 by Patrizia Rossi

Ismael Gomez Peralta

Painter

The vision is one of Havana in distress, a city in pain. His brushstrokes lash out unashamedly, lacerating the canvas with marks of torrential rain and furious skies. The particular canvas that attracts my attention is "One Day After," and begs the question: "What came before?" This is not the opulent city that provided the location for Robert Redford's Havana. This is a ruined landscape, decrepit beyond recognition.

This painting is one in a series of somber works entitled "Requiem for Havana," an exhibit which, because of its negative outlook would have been difficult to mount in Havana, was brought to the public's attention in October of last year at the local gallery Cernuda Arte. For the opening night, the painter requested that patrons attending wear black to complement his mournful visions.

During the interview Gomez Peralta describes his work emotionally. "My painting reflects my existence," he asserts, but as he draws me into his past with his lilting Cuban accent, I come to understand that his childhood in the small town of Batabano, Havana, was far from bleak and joyless. In fact, it is absurdly opposed to the agonized tones of his work.

A son of Cuban campesinos, his upbringing was filled with nature: seeding and harvest, the changing seasons. His father would shoo him away to play idly in the fields near the family's home, while he worked the land, sparing his son--the artist's hands. G6mez Peralta recalls, "My father allowed me to dream."

A sensitive child of few words, Gomez Peralta began drawing at an early age, filling the margins of his notebooks with drawings. Ironically, the artist-child would have to move away from the lush, fertile surroundings of Bataban6 to the metropolis of Havana to allow himself to grow.

At age 11 he sat and passed the entrance exam to the celebrated San Alejandro School of Art in Havana. Gomez Peralta had never experienced the city without his parents. The one-hour journey to the city was daunting mad coupled with the wearisome task of rising at 4:00 a.m. After graduating from San Alejandro in 1985, Gomez Peralta worked as an art instructor at several institutions. The artist describes these times ms disillusioning; for, the importance of art was overlooked mad undervalued. A result of which was that his work was never highly praised in Cuba: "The country is in a bad way. They wanted an optimistic view of the country. My outlook yeas pessimistic. I was saying, 'Look! The buildings are dying. We are losing the city.'"

After several trips to New York, creating sets for the Spanish Repertory Theater, the artist made his home in Miami, a place that allows him to create and is free of the bureaucratic stranglehold that stifled him.

Cuba, the home of his parents and children, is not forgotten. For now G6mez Peralta will continue to paint the Antillean metropolis, but from memory.

Dark Visions

Gomez Peralta's vision of Cuba's urban landscape is dark, some Would say apocalyptic, as the white edifices of his native Havana claw their way out of the shadows momentarily, leaving us With no doubt that the darkness will eventually close in and swallow the city whole.