A people, the Cuban people, who are locked in a micro world of inestimability. You can not get out of poverty. A poverty that is palpable. What you breathe.
This photographic work finds its identity in polaroid on the road. The protagonists are the last and I always wanted to represent them with an element of disturbance in the image. A “Something that does not let them out” while something that can not be taken and can not be won is
represented by villas that are vaguely visible and unreachable because they are blocked by a filtering vegetation.
Cuba is a state that locks both rich and poor within the boundaries.
It does not exist out of the way. Only Fronteras.