Obras y insurrección
May 24, 2015
“Are we locked out, or is the art locked in?” I ask Lillian. “It depends which side of the glass you are
standing on. For now, we are not getting inside,” she tells me. We came to Galeria Francisco Oller, on
the UPR Rio Piedras campus, to see Crescendo, an art installation by Elizam Escobar. With the doors
locked the only thing we can see is a pile of brochures inside the glass door, and a blurry view of
some of the images on the walls. The far end of the gallery is dominated by two larger than life size
photographs. The first shows Escobar when he was a much younger man, standing next to a small boy.
The other photo shows an older Escobar standing next to a man and an even older woman.
Not wanting our trip to be wasted effort, we visited Liberia Tertulia, where we purchased the new book by Nelson A. Denis, War Against All Puerto Ricans: Revolution and Terror in America's Colony. We learned that Denis would speak about his book at UPR the following day, and made plans to attend that discussion.
"The United States has a long and complex relationship with Puerto Rico that changes dramatically depending on who is telling the tale. Is America a friendly benefactor who brought economic development to an agricultural island? Or is the U.S. an oppressive ruler who capitalized on the island's fertile and inexpensive land, and cheap labor, to advance U.S. economic interests at the expense of Puerto Ricans, many of whom wanted independence after the oppressive rule of Spain." This quote comes from Betsy Kaplan of WNPR news radio in Hartford, CT. She recently interviewed Denis about the book and his investigations into the life of Pedro Albizu Campos, leader of the Nationalist Party of Puerto Rico, who devoted his entire life to seeking independence.
During the subsequent discussion by Denis we learned that he considers his book a work in
progress, telling one part of a complex and evolving story that exposes a suppressed, often hidden
history of the island's efforts to resist domination, and ongoing U.S. repression. He said the next step
for his book is translation into Spanish. The discussion became heated when a few students and one
historian challenged Denis on some specific facts. He was generous in his response, telling them that he
is author of a narrative and worked to be as accurate as possible, while reminding them that facts can
always be corrected. “What is important,” he says, “is the message to our youth, which they must
internalize. There are many opinions, but we should learn to speak as one voice if we are to be heard.”
Denis indicated the core of this book is a human appeal to an incredible story, not unlike the story told
by Dee Brown in his 1970 book, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, an account of injustice and the
betrayal of native American Indians by the U.S. government. Denis said Brown's book represents a
paradigm shift in people's perception of the plight of the American Indian and hoped that his own book
might provide the impetus for a similar shift in thinking – for Puerto Ricans about themselves and
popular opinion about the island and its people.
After the discussion, we returned to the Oller gallery to view the art installation by Elizam Escobar and
this time we were able to make a close and careful observation. Unlike other exhibitions of Escobar's
work that we have seen, this presents a detailed auto-biographical record of the lenghty time he was in prison in
the U.S., incarcerated as member of the Movimiento Clandestino Puertorriqueno, who were fighting for
independence.
The most striking and absorbing work in this installation is a series of 19 photographs, one for each of his years in U.S. federal prison, that show Escobar with his son in the visiting rooms of the various prisions where he was being held. In two instances his son was not able to visit, so Escobar has collaged two individual photos together. These may the most affective of all.
We were joined on our tour by Nelson Denis and he made a pointed and astute observation of this
group of photographs. “Look at Escobar's eyes,” he instructed us, “Notice how world-weary he appears.
Compare that to the life in the eyes of his son.” As you look at these photos and their history of time's
passage, you watch the son grow from a boy to a man. At the end, in 1999, he is nearly the same age as
Escobar at the beginning in of his incarceration in 1981. As Denis pointed out, a certain weariness seems to have crept into
the son's eyes as well, as his knowledge of the world and his awareness of his place in it grows along
with him.
Crescendo represents a gradual but steady increase in volume or intensity, usually in sound and often culminating in an especially loud noise or crash. Escobar considers his installation a visible record of the passage of time, and it is easy to imagine those 19 years building in intensity.
According to the account by Denis in his book War Against All Puerto Ricans, the abuse of the island
of Puerto Rico started early, in 1493 under Spanish rule, followed in 1898 by the U.S. government's
annexation of the island after the Spanish-American war. The leader of the Nationalist Party and his supporters felt
that crescendo which climaxed in the last days of October, 1950 when they led an armed insurrection
against the U.S. government. As Denis says, this story is still being written.
The Jayuya Revolt or El Grito de Jayuya, was a Nationalist insurrection that took place on October 30, 1950
Elizam Escobar experienced a crescendo which may have started even before his arrest in 1981, but
continued its increase in intensity until he was released from prison and he returned to the island.
One can read the culmination in his eyes, the eyes of his son, and the eyes of his mother in the large
photograph that dominates the wall at the far end of the gallery, showing them together September 10,
1999, the day of his release.
(left) FBI document from book by Nelson A. Denis (right) Albizu Campos, painting by Elizam Escobar
