My name is Don Tremain. I'm a photographer from Dallas, TX. I spent three weeks in Havana, Cuba the winter of 2001 (February & March) under the sponsorship of the Maine Photographic Workshops. The photographs and other media on these web galleries came through that experience.

There's a lot I could write about Cuba. It is a fascinating country on many levels-culturally, historically, economically and, of course, politically. However, I'm not an expert in any of these areas so I think it best I concentrate on something I do have expertise in--being an American photographer trying to make images in Old Havana. There's plenty of other info on Cuba on the WEB and at your public library. I will recommend one book however--"HAVANA HANDBOOK" by Christopher P. Baker, a Brit. I bought it before I took my trip and this guy was right on the money describing various aspects of the city of Havana and the people (Habaneros) who live there. Baker writes well and I found him incredibly insightful.

In another book "Cuba" French author Franc Nichele suggests, "Havana is one of the two or three cities in the world whose reality surpasses its reputation". As much as I hate to agree with anything a Frenchman says, I'm on board with Nichele (especially as a photographer). I've never been anywhere that offers as many interesting photo opportunities as Havana. The city is full of people, places and things that beg to be photographed. Ironically, for myself anyway, this visual "blessing" also was something of a curse.

I had two major problems doing photography in Havana. The first was the sheer overabundance of photographic subject matter I just mentioned. I was, quite frankly, overwhelmed with which direction to go. I arrived at Jose Marti International Airport with, as Delbert McClinton would say, "Too, much stuff!" Along with my Nikon gear I had packed a Hasselblad XPAN panoramic camera, a 4x5 Tachihara field camera (with many boxes of Type 55 film) and a large wheeled case that held a portable Hensel lighting system. I CAME PREPARED! My original thinking was--"I'm not sure what I'm going to be shooting in Havana but when I make up my mind I want to have the right equipment". Travel with this much equipment is definitely a logistical pain in the ass. Enough said there. Anyway, I had problems my entire trip trying to decide where to focus my photographic efforts. More on that later.

My second problem in Havana was my total lack of Spanish language skills. One can get along fine in Havana as a tourist with no Spanish but if you want to do serious work there--in any venue--you should speak some Spanish. That's my opinion anyway. In the States I had been doing some "personal portraiture" using my 4x5 & Type 55 film. I had wanted to do the same in Havana. However, this kind of work requires some rapport with your subject. When you can't even explain what you are doing with a potential subject it sort of cramps your style. I decided I might be able to get a few portraits through hiring an interpreter but in the end it just wasn't going to work that well. And I didn't want to spend three weeks in Havana and come home with four or five decent shots.

Some more on language. I'm a stock shooter in Dallas. Model releases are imperative to me. It is very hard to explain what a model release is to someone who doesn't speak your language. It is also essentially a legal contract of our "capitalistic" society. Police are everywhere in Havana. I won't go into much detail here, but when I was out in the streets this whole situation was, shall we say, "problematic". Releases aside, language is also important in terms of granting one entrée into various places and situations. I'm sure I missed some great photos simply because I wasn't aware of what was going on around me. Obviously, one can make images in Havana and Cuba with no Spanish. I have 60 plus photos on this site as proof. But it's my opinion that a photographer isn't firing on all cylinders when he or she can't speak the language of the locals. I was SO jealous of the English speaking photo workshop staff who spoke fluent Spanish as a second language.

The majority of my three weeks in Havana was spent working and living in Habana Vieja or "Old Havana". It is the oldest part of the city and sits next to the harbor. It was an arbitrary decision. I'm sure there were photo opportunities in other sections of Havana as well (all over Cuba actually). My first few days were spent acclimatizing to the new situation. I grabbed a camera or two and walked the streets. A workshop staff member had told me, "most folks need a day or two to DO the normal Havana visual cliche thing . . . get it out of your system." She was referring to the visual stereotypes that one conjures up when thinking about Havana; old cars, people standing in doorways and balconies, etc. Quite frankly, I was in Havana three weeks and I feel like I never did get the visual cliches out of my system. They certainly are there like all stereotypes and they have a strong appeal to a photographer who is experiencing them for the first time.

I am keenly aware that much of what I chose to photograph in Havana has been photographed before. I don't feel I broke "new visual ground" in my three weeks of making images. This doesn't trouble me, mostly because I have a personal opinion that visual (and other) artists rarely create totally unique works. The human condition we draw upon for our work has changed little over the centuries. And we all borrow from those who went before. Certainly, I like to think that consciously or unconsciously I do inject my images with a viewpoint that is distinctly ME. But I don't spend a lot of time worrying about it. There's enough to worry about simply seeing to the technical side of making a picture. In the end I am not worrying about whether I chose subject matter that would be considered a Havana cliche. I look at my images and try to decide if I did the subject justice--both technically and aesthetically. The viewer will have to make the same decision.

As I said earlier, I was a bit overwhelmed by the overabundance of photo opportunities in Havana. (I said I would get back to this). It was a genuine problem for me. It was a definite case of "kid in a candy store" syndrome. It was made more acute by the fact that Havana is a very sensual city to all the senses. Music seems to be everywhere. Noise is also pervasive with the multitude of antique cars and appliances still sputtering throughout the city. One can smell the salt spray in the air around Old Havana mixed with car exhaust and cooking smells that emanate from the many kitchens (commercial restaurants & homes). Mix in an occasional leak from one of the ancient sewage pipes and one gets a pretty earthy nasal environment. (I don't mean this in a negative way. New smells are a favorite part of travel for me.)

Add to all of this the fact that Habaneros are, for the most part, a high spirited positive group of folks who believe "life is to be lived" (party animals). You have an environment where it is difficult to achieve the tunnel vision needed for a specific well defined photography project. You're afraid you might miss something!

So, in the end, I became a generalist categorizing my camera work under the term "travel photography". I always had a camera with me as I walked the streets of Habana Vieja. And I took what the people, urban landscape and light offered me.

I found the old and narrow streets of Old Havana full of life and the source of most of my images. Real living goes on in this environment--it's where Habaneros socialize. I was fascinated by all the open windows and doors I could peer into daily and watch the locals play dominoes, watch television, eat dinner, etc. One of my weirdest experiences was hearing Elvis Presley music coming from an old apartment one night. The door was open so I walked in. In the lobby a young male doctor was teaching adolescents the finer points of American "swing" dancing. Not what I expected to discover in Cuba but then, I found it dangerous to try and characterize Habaneros in any way. They will always surprise you!

I walked the streets at all hours of the day and night. I felt Old Havana was one of the safest cities I have been in (that includes USA). The multitude of Cuban police are something of a mixed blessing. It is reassuring if you are a tourist worried about negative run-ins with locals. At the same time, you do feel you are being watched. And you are! I was questioned twice by local police in three weeks. Once a cop was curious what I was doing in an old building with a view camera. I learned how to say "old architecture-very pretty!" He seemed satisfied. Another time a policeman checked my ID when I came from a friend's small apartment. He evidently didn't appreciate me being too chummy with locals. My friend and others interceded. I'm not what was said but in the end I left no worse for the experience. Tourist dollars are holding up the Cuban economy at this time so the local gendarmes aren't going to hassle you as a rule.

In the end, I hesitate giving any specific advice on "how to photograph Havana". Making images is a personal thing and everyone works their own way. I've just tried to write down a bit about my experience. After editting my own images and contemplating a future photo safari to Havana I've come to a couple conclusions. First, I need to learn some Spanish. Second, I need to take far less equipment. I have other ideas on what I would want to photograph but I'll keep those to myself. Hopefully, I've worked the cliches out of my system. But who knows?