I am thrilled to see my Tobacco Farmer heading to a warm home where everyone loves art! I am immensely grateful to be represented by the Weston Gallery in Carmel-By-The-Sea CA USA This image was taken in 2016, the same year my bestseller book Cuba A Personal Journey 1989-2016 was published. That day, while returning to Havana from Camaguey on the rented jeep, my Cuban companion was Mayel Nuñez who is also my right hand man and my nephew, whom I had known since he was a year old.
We took a detour from the main highway and drove on a narrow dirt road where we saw a large group of farmers who were on the field harvesting tobacco. Before we got out of our vehicle the wind brought to us the dry sweet herbal smell of the leaves which reminded me of a spicy perfume my grandfather Francisco would splashed over his face during special occasions.
There were rows and rows of waist height tobacco plants and each farmer would handle a different aisle. Each harvester would walk up and down the perfectly set up rows and would pick up as many leaves as they could and delicately placed it under their arms. Then once they had a great load each campesino would walked to an oxen pulled cart and place it on the back of the wagon then returned and walk up and down their aisle until another large bundle was collected.
Once the harvest is done the soil must be prepared all over for next year’s crop while the guajiros would find other agricultural work so with their hands, sweat and hard work the earth can give birth to rice, beans, corn, wheat and other vegetables so each day Cuban can have food on their tables.
From the side I kept observing their laborious monotonous effort and decided to take some images.
Instead of using my Leica and black and white film I chose to work with color instead. Then I saw the strong presence of Ricardo Tamayo and followed him for a short while. He was tall, blond under his hat, with a tanned white face and rugged looks that reflected his long harvesting years on the field while his ferocious large calloused hands, with long thick fingers and pearl like shining nails filled with tobacco particles under them, were as effective as any modern machine.
At the end of his column he made a turn and worked on the other side of the row. It was during that moment when the harsh Caribbean sun took a break and hid under heavy dark clouds, then suddenly a narrow spot light landed on the leaves below Ricardo’s chest and the textured green leaves became a saturated emerald color, turning his profile into the perfect image of a proud conquering Roman soldier with his protective shield and beaten body on his way back home.
This image has become a special art piece for collectors. The first time this photo was acquired I phoned Mayel in Cuba and told him to track down Ricardo and bring him some well-deserved money. When my nephew brought him the cash I’d sent, the farmer couldn’t understand the gesture for a few years of work would not had earned him that sum since the average salary in Cuba is $20 per month.
Tobacco Farmer
