Family, nature and art are three temples where I seek refuge and healing. In painting and drawing I find the proper mediums to record memories of the beauty I see in my daily life. I desire to capture these ephemeral moments of existence in a medium that will undoubtedly endure beyond my own lifetime.
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The nature of my work is influenced by my personal story as an immigrant living in the United States. It is also inspired by my desire to find a sense of belonging in my adoptive home, as well as my struggles trying to maintain a meaningful connection to my birth nation.
I am a proud son of a civil rights activist who valiantly faced the tyrannical regime of Fidel Castro. My father is a founder of the Movimiento Cristiano de Liberación, a political movement that disseminated the ideas of freedom and the need for a democratic electoral process in Cuba. Consequently, the secret police ruthlessly persecuted my family for years, often subjecting us to psychological and physical harassment. While growing up, I witnessed first-hand the suffering and uncertainty that afflicted my parents on a daily basis. Over the course of time, I watched the shadow of public repudiation grow more menacing over our heads, and my once-beloved birth nation slowly transformed into a toxic, hostile land that no longer felt welcoming.
During the difficult years of my childhood and adolescence, I turned to drawing and painting as a way to escape the many tensions that filled my daily life. I additionally found comfort in the pristine coastal beauty of my hometown of Cojimar, a sleepy fishing village that once prompted Ernest Hemingway to write “The Old Man and the Sea.” If I close my eyes I can still hear the soft puffing sound of fishing boats entering the bay. I can also see kids taking dives in the turquoise waters beyond the waterfront, and I can even smell and taste the salt that purified the air everywhere I walked. My birth town was a heaven in an otherwise troubled existence. Its peacefulness reached deep into my soul and inflamed in me a love for nature that set the stage for my development as a landscape painter.
When my family noticed my interest in drawing and painting, they provided ways for me to continue my formation as an artist. One such way was encouraging me to visit the national fine arts museum in Havana, where I was exposed to ample sources of knowledge and inspiration. In the course of my regular trips there, I developed an appreciation for the work of two Cuban painters who left a lasting impression in my young mind: Esteban Chartrand and Tomás Sánchez.
Chartrand was a 19th century master who introduced in Cuba the romantic ideals of representing a sense of solitude, wander and awe, which many artists sought in nature at the time. His paintings are characterized by luscious detail, and a peculiar preference to contrast dark foliage with brightly-illuminated skies. This type of landscape had a uniquely-European touch, which he acquired from studying under Théodore Rousseau. Yet, Chartrand expertly managed to imbue a sense of authenticity and Cubanness into his landscapes by introducing national symbols like the royal palm tree, the thatched bohío house, and the itinerant guajiro peasant. Thus, Chartrand led the way for future generations of artists to explore elements of Cuban pride and patriotism in their works.
Chartrand’s early depictions of Cuba’s countryside certainly initiated my love for landscape painting, but my interest in the genre peaked upon discovering the contemporary work of Tomás Sánchez. His landscapes featuring towering palm trees, clear skies and crystalline rivers, are profound manifestations of his mind and soul. They are also familiar depictions of a landscape many Cubans could relate to inside and outside the island. Walking up to his large and meditative compositions offered a much-welcomed respite from the pressures that mounted up in the months leading up to my departure from Cuba.
In 2005 my family was granted political asylum by the United States, marking an end to years of hardship. Abruptly, we were faced with the difficult decision of having to part ways with loved ones and places that had defined a great part of our lives until then. When we boarded our one-way flight to Miami, we set out on a new journey, knowing we may never get the opportunity to return.
After landing on these shores I wholeheartedly assimilated the values and traditions of my adoptive home. Still, I have continued to face challenges along this steep and arduous climb that is adjusting to life in a new country. Conversely, nearly two decades spent away from Cuba have eroded my connection with my birth nation. Living in this unique melting pot afforded me the opportunity to experience life beyond the confines of the hermetic island. I was exposed to a wider range of idiosyncrasies that have dramatically changed my identity, for the better. However, the trade-off is that I have gradually become more estranged from my own culture as the years go by.
My love for painting has been a true constant in this tangential existence. It has allowed me to find a sense of belonging in times when I have felt trapped in a vacuum between worlds. In the course of my artistic development in the United States, I came across the work of American masters who captivated me with their authentic depictions of their homeland. I was first moved by the work of Grant Wood and Thomas Hart Benton, who romanticized every-day life in rural America. Their highly idealized and colorful depictions of rolling hills and agricultural fields of the Midwest, warmed me up to a landscape I was then unfamiliar with. Secondly, seeing Andrew Wyeth’s meticulously-rendered pictures of Maine and Pennsylvania in the flesh was quite inspirational. His portrayal of reality, replete with luxurious detail, set a lofty standard for me to live up to in my own work. Lastly, Georgia O'keeffe’s meditative pieces reminded me of Tomás Sánchez's own work. Despite their markedly different styles and choice of subject matter, their paintings convey a sense of intimacy and transcendental spirituality arising from the artists’ relationship with the landscape.
These painters, therefore, inculcated in me a desire to travel around the United States, to better acquaint myself to this land I now proudly call home. In the reassuring company of my wife, I have ventured into many unfamiliar corners of this nation. We have visited her native state of Pennsylvania numerous times, and I have grown to love this state like a second home. It was during our first visit to this region that I painted the first of my “American landscapes”. Working over the span of two days, I captured my experience of a cornfield located in the vicinity of our lodging. Not being accustomed to this kind of landscape where I come from, I felt awestruck by its natural beauty and felt compelled to paint it.
Cocooned in the lush, verdant canopy of a maple tree, I immersed myself in the sight before me: rows of cornstalk that seamlessly morphed into one infinite field of gold and green. The intense July heat offered a formidable challenge. Nonetheless, I pressed on, taking comfort in the act of faithfully rendering the corn leaves, stocks and tassels, as they gently swayed in the summer breeze. This meditative form of painting invited me to root myself in the present and harmonize with my surroundings
At some point during the painting process I was enlightened with a thought: before me, there stood a symbolic representation of the spirit of America. From the native peoples that originally called this land home, to the average family of today, corn has been a staple for generations. My decision to paint this particular cornfield may have been driven by its unfamiliar beauty, but now it became clear to me I was attempting to root myself in America’s heartland.
Thanks to the legacy of my Cuban and American artistic forefathers who inculcated in me an affinity for landscape painting, I was able to arrive at this life-defining moment. While painting this cornfield in the quaint town of York, I was rewarded with a sense of joy, pride and patriotism for my two cultures. It felt as if my discordant Cuban-American identity had, at last, reached a single harmonious tune. Embracing the genre of landscape painting was my way to uphold and contribute to Cuba’s long pictorial tradition. The subject being depicted may have been far-removed from the island’s autochthonous beauty. Still, my intent, my vision, my passion and my drive while producing this painting were Cuban nonetheless. Conversely, the act of painting this particular all-American subject, was indeed my way of acknowledging the nation that many years before had saved my family from a life of misery.
This transformative moment gave me the fuel and the inspiration to continue exploring the American landscape for new experiences to capture in my paintings. My home state of Florida has been an endless source of inspiration. I have walked along its white shorelines, ventured into its cypress grooves, and kayaked down its blackwater rivers and emerald springs. In my hikes, I have occasionally recognized a few royal palms, welcoming vestiges from the fields I grew up around. However, I refuse to dwell in melancholy, for I have grown to love the sabal, the live oak, and the stringing Spanish moss all the same.
Venturing beyond state lines, I have made my way up the ancient Appalachian mountains. One day, while standing at the summit of Clingman’s Dome, I contemplated the majesty of a scarlet sunset over a boundless sea of blue hills. Thousands of miles farther west, I navigated the labyrinthine canyons in Utah and Arizona. There, I found refreshment in the frigid waters that have so laboriously sculpted the terrain for millennia. Back in Pennsylvania, I was able to have my first fall foliage experience. The cold, gray, and rainy weather at the time offered a welcome change from the perpetual summer of the South I have grown used to. One day, while hiking alone in the woods, I stood for a moment to contemplate the bright yellow, orange and red leaves that populated the trees around me. There was an overall sense of quiet in those woods, only disturbed by the light tapping sound of rain drops. It was a cold day in October and my hands were numb from the rain, but I stood there, transfixed, my senses overwhelmed by the colors and the serenity of the scene unraveling before my eyes.
These sacred little moments are the sparks that light the flame of my creative practice. Without them, I fear art wouldn’t have the same significance in my life. Now I catch myself daydreaming often, thinking about all the destinations I would like to reach: Colorado, Wyoming and Montana, the Pacific Northwest, the Great Plains, Alaska and Hawaii. Will there be enough time in this life to fulfill my wishes? I truly hope so. In the meantime, I am aware of how fortunate I am to have come this far. I do not take my freedom for granted, nor do I forget my family’s sacrifice of leaving everything behind to secure a safe and bright future for me. It is because of my parents that I now count myself as one of the lucky few who managed to escape the confines of my island nation. Thankfully, I have been able to experience the world in ways many of my fellow countrymen could only dream of, and I am humbled by that thought.
As I continue my path forward in this life, I am excited for the chapters I have yet to uncover and the many paintings they will surely inspire. For now at least, I remain resolute in my purpose of depicting my vision of America, fully rendered with Cuban flavor. I shall continue to manifest my Caribbean accent into painterly expression. It has the cadence of saturated hues and lively brushstrokes. Carrying the bright light of the tropics in my heart, I will let its warmth percolate into my paintings as it does my life, filling me with cheerfulness and positivity even in the most challenging of times.
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I take pleasure in the company of my wife and son and the activities we do together to break away from life’s complexities. Traveling to places near and far we search for the chance to strengthen our bond as a family while creating lasting memories together. Many of my works capture glimpses into these moments which I seek to immortalize in my body of work.
I experience incalculable joy painting my son. I like to capture his mannerisms, his cuteness, his innocence, his sense of curiosity, and that purity which is encapsulated in children, the antithesis of all evils. The sublime incarnate, my little boy is a force to be reckoned with. When he’s unwell I feel like one of Turner’s boats engulfed in a tempestuous sea. His laughter…it moves mountains! With every breath he takes, my son is a living reminder of the majesty of life and the miracle of creation. Countless times I have been advised to treasure every moment of his growth, because time flows treacherously fast. So I intend to slow down time, and attempt to transfigure this abstract, immeasurable love I feel for him into lines, forms, and colors.
Similarly, my wife has been a recurring inspiration to me. A beautiful, elegant and dignified woman, a fierce and endearing mother and a forever companion, time and again, I struggle to capture the measure of all her goodness in my work. She has supported me on this quixotic path I chose to pursue, always building me up with words of encouragement and forgiving my selfishness when I fail to find the balance between family and art. A tireless hard worker, she strives to secure along with me a stable and prosperous household for our son to thrive in. It is no mistake that I choose to paint her, to enshrine our life together, not once taking for granted that every day I get to spend with her is a gift from God. As long as I have them by my side I will always be at home.
Miguel Saludes, 2025