There is no other poem like “No sé” by Samuel Feijoo to express the roots of Cuban people in such a meaningful way. Water, rock, and sun define the place and its identity.
We proposed a community-scale project, working over twenty-five spots in the neighborhood, where each verse from the poem by Feijoo is written. Connecting people with invisible links. Pieces that can’t be understood independently but in a group, because we form part of a whole.
“El Romerillo” is a humble, self-made neighborhood that reborn every day, not losing a smile. It is as heterogeneous as compact, and its landscape is a balanced composition of bricks, lids of oil barrels, wooden pegs, domino matches, kids running, prefabricated blocks, shadows of the mango trees, a car chassis, fruit tumbrels, dogs, plastered walls, music and women chatting. Infinite materials that speak about the cuban-way to solve problems with creative solutions.
Each of the poem lines has found a room in the neighborhood, completing and giving a new meaning to the daily routine.
“La China” and her friend will never be apart thanks to the conjunction “y” (and) that lies on the wall where every day they sit to chat.
No one will ever forget that it is not allowed to park in front of the garage door that reads “no”.
A new memory from one of the biggest and most important storms of the last years now remains at Javieres’ home with the verse "llegó al agua" (it reached the water).
A rectangle defines this new abstract layer with the verse painted in striking white color. These abstract, out-of-context shapes modify the place by freezing the memory of a moment that will never cease to happen.
