La Havana – Cuba: Architecture
The first impression of the hotel is of a huge twenty storey concrete block imposing itself high above the district. This concrete edifice to the fifties warms with the large two storey mural across the imposing entrance looking like it was completed by the local college on a community help scheme.
The atrium opens across the entire ground floor with reception, bars and tourist offices tucked away in the shadows around the perimeter. The wide open curving stairs lead up onto the open aspect first floor and are adjacent to a giant old rusting water feature probably more at home at a beach lido.
In its day this was perceived as a striking example of opulence and technology albeit clever plumbing. Without plagiarising the guide book the hotel was completed in the late fifties just prior to the fall of Batista and was the jewel in the Hilton crown attracting the developing Cuban Mafia, mainly expats from Las Vegas.
The irony was that Castro ran the country in the early days of the revolution from one of the top floors when he still commanded the guerrilla army who in turn moved into the lower floors.
Fortunately the furnishings have been replaced since his rebel army deliberately put their dirty boots all over the new plush furnishings. That is too say that the current ones are a little sad, peach and cream, from the early 80’s and resemble a tired Hollywood set from Dynasty. Sitting here I am just waiting to see Alexi Carrington sweep down the stairs with wider glossy shoulder pads.
The district of Vedado is best described as the ‘not quite’ centre of Havana and has grown from the desire to create a mix of residential and commercial properties during the second quarter of the 20th century. There are large embassies, universities and government buildings all around interspersed with impressive housing (was in 1950 no doubt). Across the skyline you can see the ‘pagoda’ which is the monument at the Revolution square. It looks like a pagoda and was funded by the north Koreans and Russians in the 60’s.
The old town justified as it was, built within the walls and up to the 19thy century was the hub of Havana although superseded by the expansion beyond them. These old walls exist in some parts of the city and there are also old sewers that have been opened up and are visible from the street so that the tourists can see the structures. Gladly they are not in use apart from the odd old tin can but it does help you see the brick work and arches.
The squares and open areas emit the sounds of bars and hotels each with their own band playing that rhythmic Latin and jazz mix which apparently goes down well with a mojito. Off the Playa de San Francisco is a small hotel/hostelry where all the staff are attired with monks course habits and a four piece wind ensemble plays and offers their music on CDs to the punters. The digital download hasn’t arrived yet, there again no one has much internet access.
The city lends itself to cavorting buccaneers, privateers and Orlando Bloom who should be darting around the streets chased by colonial Hispanic military in a swashbuckling movie as all the streets fit the scene.
Once the tourists have passed by and there is a gap within the groups the musicians stop and relax; smoking, reading the paper or just stretching their legs. It just looks such a chore and somehow you feel there is no heart in their music. The hotel of Monks is silent again.
Travelling out to the west of the city into the Buena Vista area where the roads are laid in grids, 50’s style housing/bungalows and a rather odd Russian embassy which in the days of the USSR was a listening/spy centre sit. Its twenty odd floors rising from this suburb, heavily guarded still with walled and wired perimeters you can understand the American panic; after all we are less than ninety miles to the land of dreams. Interspersed amongst the housing styles are large east European tenement blocks, the model straight from the Moscow suburbs – wry smile.
The central part of Havana still has a concentration of houses and habeneros. Some parts are extremely run down with buildings falling apart as you watch. Where they are habituated the owners/occupiers have cobbled together doors and windows to keep the elements out and yet adjacent is major renovation although some of the scaffolding on these sites has taken root with huge swathes of ivy and creepers extending skyward supported by flimsy poles. Those that are having small renovations taking place are supported by old 50’s style trucks either removing rubble or delivering sand and cement. What is clear is that there is no new modern construction from what I can see or have learnt.
The National Hotel is impressive and famous for the fact that in the late 50’s the great crime families from Chicago, New York and Miami met for a conference under the guise of a Frank Sinatra concert. Most of the references direct you to him being one of them. The main lobby has changed little with the original mahogany desks and reception area. The main dining restaurant is laid out for “royalty” and comes as a surprise in Havana but with Mojitos on the verandah facing the ocean as it pounds over the protective wall you are swept back fifty years.
Out to the east of Havana are the club Tropicana hotels, adjacent to the beach and in a complete time warp. No more than 4-5 floors with garish external paintwork in peach/cream or turquoise/aqua they are icons of fifties. Some of the exterior is flaking whilst others have been given a recent paint job – just to thwart the elements of wind, sea and sand of the Atlantic.
What you have to admire is that they work tirelessly to keep these buildings alive and some times unfortunately they succumb to the elements and you are witness to a beautiful colonial house or official building with only the exterior walls as the remainder has either collapsed or been salvaged to maintain another.
At first I couldn’t see the reason why there was a twenty four hour guard on a pile of rubbish but this is to stop the opportunistic “Bob the Builder” from helping himself.
The real gems are the hotels that existed before Batista’s departure and those that have developed from houses with courtyards and shuttered rooms of veranda’s. What ever happens with the future of this country the tragedy would be losing the most wonderful and diverse architecture that epitomises the culture and people.