Search

El despliegue del documental cubano tiene lugar en los años sesenta. Los cineastas comienzan a experimentar con ideas y conceptos tanto de Europa Occidental como del llamado Bloque Comunista, que se referenciarán en este trabajo. A partir del análisis textual de dos documentales, exploramos la reflexividad como una herramienta conceptual y crítica utilizada por los cineastas para visualizar el proceso mismo de producción cinematográfica. Comparo este concepto en las obras Por primera vez, de Octavio Cortázar, y Coffea Arábiga, de Nicolás Guillén Landrián. El primero afirma la distancia entre espectadores urbanos y rurales, una brecha que intenta disminuir al transmitir el autodescubrimiento del campesino como audiencia. A pesar de que el documental revela al individuo detrás de las masas (a lo Ivens), el supuesto sujeto protagonista de la revolución está privado de agencia en ambos proyectos: el cine y la agenda del estado. En cambio, la reflexividad de Coffea Arábiga arroja luz sobre la falibilidad de las narrativas dentro y fuera del arte. Revela la naturaleza construida de los regímenes de la verdad, reivindicados por la revolución y el género documental. The national and international display of the Cuban documentary has its place in the 1960s, when film makers began to experiment with ideas and concepts from both Western Europe and the so-called Communist Bloc. From the textual analysis of two documentaries, we grapple with reflexivity as a conceptual and critical tool used by cinema-tographers to visualize the very process of filmmaking. I attempt to compare this concept in the works Por primera vez, by Octavio Cortázar, and Coffea Arábiga, by Nicolás Guillén Landrián. The former affirms the distance between urban and rural spectators, a gap that it attempts to diminish by conveying the campesino's self- discovery as audience. Moreover, despite the fact that the documentary reveals the individual behind the masses (a là Ivens), the supposed subject or protagonist of the revolution is deprived of agency in both projects: the film and the state political agenda. On the other hand, Coffea Arábiga 's reflexivity sheds light on narrative fallibility both within and outside art; [End Page 228] it reveals the constructed nature of regimes of truth, entangled and claimed either by the revolution or the documentary genre. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

El presente artículo estudia la relación hombre–naturaleza en dos documentales cubanos de la década del 60. Se contrastan Ciclón (1963), de Santiago Álvarez, y Ociel del Toa (1965), de Nicolás Guillén Landrián, para revelar dos concepciones emergentes en la Cuba revolucionaria. Pretendo demostrar que mientras Ciclón legitima una lógica de dominación de la naturaleza en sintonía con la proyección moderna, Ociel del Toa expone una síntesis entre lo humano y lo no-humano que desafía la visión dominante en el Estado cubano. Para corroborar esta tesis, me apoyo en las ideas de Boaventura de Sousa y Walter Mignolo sobre las epistemologías del Sur y el sistema mundial moderno/colonial, respectivamente. Además, retomo el concepto de "superhombre" delineado por Bolívar Echeverría. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article presents a critique of the 1971 Cuban film "Taller de Línea 'Claudio A. Camejo' y 18," directed by Nicolás Guillén Landrián. The author comments on the representation of working conditions in an industrial Cuban factory and examines his use of montage, metaphor, and music to emphasize factory life.

Copyright of Perífrasis. Revista de Literatura, Teoría y Crítica is the property of Universidad de los Andes and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Copyright of Studies in Spanish & Latin American Cinemas is the property of Intellect Ltd. and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Copyright of ArtCultura is the property of ArtCultura and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Founded in1959, the Cuban Film Institute (ICAIC) supported the birth of a new Cuban Cinema, enabling local filmmakers to thrive and establishing the Cuban Revolution's official filmic archive. With the rise of external funding sources and the advances of new technologies, contemporary filmmakers in Cuba began to challenge these official narratives. In their work, digital technology serves as the medium to subvert the official cinematic discourse. Miguel Coyula's Memories of Overdevelopment (2010, Cuba) questions the images of Fidel Castro and Ernesto "Che" Guevara as heroes of the Revolution and replaces them with images of the traumatic past such as the 1980 Mariel exodus and the 1989 Ochoa Scandal. In doing so, independent filmmaker Coyula challenges how the Revolution has been documented in film by bringing to the foreground what has been censored by the Cuban state. This article argues that Coyula subverts ICAIC's discourse by altering images of the archive in postproduction to reimagine Cuba's past and create his own counter-narrative of the Cuban Revolution. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Contra la Revolución nada, porque la Revolución tiene también sus derechos y el primer derecho de la Revolución es el derecho a existir y frente al derecho de la Revolución de ser y de existir, nadie." The articles and interviews of this Close-Up interrogate the numerous dimensions of Contemporary Cuban cinema. The cultural currency of film in Cuban revolutionary society has provided for a uniquely crafted and skilled film culture in Cuba. [Extracted from the article]

Copyright of Imagofagia is the property of Imagofagia - AsAECA and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Drawing on theories about bricolage as creative resistance, this article examines the sudden, unexplained appearance of the masked Abakuá íreme in the middle of Carlos Lechuga's Santa y Andrés (2016), a film that otherwise focuses entirely on the repression of a gay writer in post-Mariel era Cuba. This disruption of the narrative is explored as a strategy that urges the viewer to consider cyclical processes by which displaced social anxieties are mapped onto different marginalized groups to form a shifting locus of backlash following moments of progressive social change in Cuban history. The article tracks the ways in which the film evokes Abakuá mythology to create historical parallels for the viewer to discover. Utilizing doubled characters and parallel journeys as its analogical grammar, tensions between the film's archetypal figures signal larger conflicts around the policing of acceptable expressions of gender and sexuality, and the social and political processes by which particular expressions of masculinity that are perceived as 'dangerous' or threatening are regulated in Cuban society at different historical moments. Even though Santa y Andrés is set in 1983, the film's contentious reception in 2016 makes it what I am calling a historically ambivalent film about repression both in the past and in the present. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The notion of independent cinema has generated conversations and controversies around the world as scholars have attempted to demarcate what kinds of productions fit – or do not – into the category. In the absence of major private film companies, independent cinema in Cuba includes those films made without or with minimal support from the state-run Cuban Film Institute (ICAIC). Since its foundation in 1959, ICAIC has been the main and only programmer of all films screened in theatres across the country. This article offers a brief account of the relationship between Cuban independent cinema and mainstream institutions in the last few years. As a starting point, I will consider the decision to exclude the film Santa y Andrés/Santa & Andres (Lechuga 2016) from the programme of the 38th Havana Film Festival and the debates that ensued. I will also discuss the recent cultural policies – a decree that recognizes the legal rights of independent film and audio-visual producers and the introduction of 3G data plans for citizens – that hope to spawn new forms of filmmaking in Cuba and the role of social media as a collective platform for cultural conversations in the public sphere. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Carlos Lechuga's film Santa y Andrés (2016) has enjoyed worldwide acclaim as an intimate, dramatic portrayal of the unlikely friendship that develops in rural Cuba between Andrés, a gay dissident writer, and Santa, the militant citizen who has been sent to surveil him. Declared to be extreme and/or inaccurate in its historical depictions, the film was censored in Cuba and was the subject of intense controversy and public polemics surrounding its release in 2016. Debates about the film's subject matter and its censorship extend ongoing disagreement over the role of art within the Cuban Revolution, and the changing nature of the Cuban film industry itself. This dossier brings together new scholarship on Santa y Andrés and is linked to an online archive of some of the original essays that have been written about the film by Cuban critics and filmmakers since 2016. The aim of this project is to create a starting point for researchers who wish to investigate Santa y Andrés, evaluating the film both for its contentious initial reception, and in terms of its enduring contribution to the history of Cuban cinema. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Copyright of Izquierdas is the property of Izquierdas, Universidad de Santiago de Chile and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

For decades in Cuba, the official journalistic agenda has neglected or completely obliterated complex areas of the nation's socioeconomic and cultural fabric. These areas are being appropriated by a new generation of audiovisual creators and producers. They are interested in discovering and analyzing the complexities and problems of their immediate contemporaneity, with full autonomy from the official establishment. To this end, and thanks to the democratization of technological media, they have developed different and diverse discourses, fostering a true "para-journalistic" current or noninstitutional journalism, aimed at filling the conceptual aporia of the Cuban people. In this process, the documentary film genre has come to replace reporting, investigative reporting, and testimony when exploring, exposing, and deconstructing numerous alternative topics like sexuality, youth, religion, history, emigration, architectural ruin, the peasantry, the economic, and identity crisis, among others. The pessimistic, skeptical, iconoclastic, controversial, and dystopian tone of such documentary is nothing but the counterpart of the optimistic and excessively triumphalist idea of Cuba as constructed by the official media. This article is an analytic cartography, from a sociocultural perspective, of this phenomenon over the last twenty years. Using discourse analysis, it will counteract the dominant criticism of these films as defective because essentially journalistic. Besides, two decades of filming already requires more than a casuistic approach, which is the general tendency among Cuban film critics with this recent work. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Copyright of Kepes is the property of Universidad de Caldas and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Este articulo estudia la problemática racial cubana y sus dinámicas, presentando nuevas prácticas para tratar la identidad racial como el uso de blogs, la música hip hop, el spoken word , entre otras. Estas son ejemplo de los múltiples modos en que las afroepistemologías están internándose en la cultura y la sociedad cubana. El autor explora cuestiones como el rol que juega actualmente el movimiento afrocubano dentro de la configuración de una nueva sociedad civil en Cuba, las condiciones que limitan su avance en términos de movilización social, las razones de su emergencia, su liderazgo y seguimiento en la Cuba del siglo XXI, su estructura y pensamiento, entre otras. This article presents contemporary constructions of racial identity expressed through blogs, hip-hop, and spoken word, among others. It explores how Afro-epistemologies inhabit Cuban culture and society. It also explores the role played by the Afro-Cuban movement within the configuration of a new Cuban civil society and explains the conditions that limit its advancement. The author illustrates the reasons for its emergence, its structure, and philosophy, and also describes its leadership and followers in the context of twenty-first-century Cuba. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Copyright of Cuadernos de Documentacion Multimedia is the property of Universidad Complutense de Madrid and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

In this respect Gómez is like Agnès Varda, who attracted much less and even belated attention in comparison to the male directors of the French New Wave. (Paper US$ 40.00) For scholars of Cuban Cinema or feminist film, Sara Gómez is an exceptional figure - the "most important woman filmmaker in Cuban cinema" (p. 58), and the first (and, until the Rebeca Chávez's 2008 I Ciudad en rojo i , the only) woman to make a feature film in the country ( I De cierta manera i [ I One way or another i , 1978]). Gómez actually worked with Varda in the making of I Salut les Cubains i (1964), which Varda made when she and others came to Cuba, to give help and guidance to the new society that was lacking in filmmaking infrastructure and "know how.". [Extracted from the article]