Eugenio Hernández Espinosa another regrettable loss to Cuban culture

October 15, 2022

Eugenio Hernández Espinosa, deserving by virtue of his enormous value in the Cuban theatrical landscape, of the National Prizes for Theater and Literature, passed away on October 14, 2022 in Havana at the age of 85.

Author of several of the most important works of Cuban theater in recent decades, he is one of the indispensable figures of the stage in the Greater Antilles. Maria Antonia, Mi socio Manolo, Calixta Comité, Emelina Cundiamor and Lagarto Pisabonito, are some of the texts that guaranteed his permanence in the memory of our audience.

General Director of Teatro Caribeño, Hernández Espinosa left a broad legacy as a writer and director.

When there is so much to say about a man, we often – suddenly – fall silent. The humble child raised by a mambí, the one who dreamed of being a writer, the rebellious young man who contributed through his activism to transforming the reality of his country, the playwright who reformed Cuban theater, the Great Negro of Cuban Theater, the one honored with prestigious prizes has said goodbye at 85 years old, and it is hard to accept.

Eugenio Hernández Espinosa was inscribed long ago in the most significant pages of Cuban culture, with works that speak for themselves of the vindicatory sentiment and intellectual responsibility of their creator. María Antonia, Mi socio Manolo, Calixta Comité, La Simona (Casa de las Américas Prize) and Emelina Cundiamor could suffice to exemplify – even with many others – his determination to bring to paper and then to the stage the reverence and/or critique of the good or of the inadmissible. However, recent times allowed us to grasp more closely the good-natured and festive playwright from Camagüey, also a film screenwriter who, behind a serene smile, spoke of profound matters that left a trace in the thinking of his interlocutor.

The news that the 29th International Book Fair would be dedicated to him in 2020 was received as a great success. With it came the opportunity to reissue some works and find him, face to face, in various tribute spaces.

In one of them he was considered by the notable intellectual Rogelio Martínez Furé, who passed away a few days ago, as an author not only of America, who converted Cuban speech into literature of high values, and who made our language become new, that of the people-people, which represents popular art, expressed in a different discourse. The staging of María Antonia was "a break," because "for the first time the Cuban people were on stage without caricatures," he explained then.

On that occasion he was recognized as an author of transgressive works, as the playwright most adapted to the big screen, creator of protagonists with deep human tragedies. One of his most loyal admirers, writer and critic Alberto Curbelo, author of the book La pupila negra. Teatro y terruño en Eugenio Hernández Espinosa, would highlight the presence in his work of the patriotic formation he received "which was being built at the foot of the Revolution and in which he had different things to say," and would emphasize how he managed to reflect the contradictions of a new era. He wrote revolutionary literature, and put the Black man on stage, but not as before, but as a philosopher, who spoke as an equal with the rest of society, he considered.

He who until his last breath directed Teatro Caribeño, recipient of the National Theater Prize in 2005, would receive another award. Two years ago he would be recognized with the National Literature Prize. "I never expected to receive this news," he said then to Granma, and assured that he remembered moments from his childhood, when "I only had eyes for books."

For him, writing was always a passion. In his texts he expressed his righteous and just stance, driven by a discriminatory and cruel world that had to change. "I never attempt to escape my responsibilities nor would I allow anyone else to. (…) My warrior spirit helps me make decisions that other people would try to avoid. I belong to the most evolved scorpions that use their great mental strength for good," Eugenio asserted.

In the face of immense challenges, of all kinds, courage prevailed in him. His condition as a young Cuban stood up to circumstances: "Neither fear nor terror nor panic could tame my conscience, my will to action." And he was also unperturbed in the fulfillment of his goals in pursuit of beauty. He wrote with feeling, founded, and focused light on dark areas so they would be made visible. Much does the spirit of society owe to the ideal with which he created.

He wanted and achieved greatness. Perhaps because of that certainty of his that one either is or is not, there is no doubt that he always will be.

When we speak of Cubanness we shall say Eugenio Hernández Espinosa

The Cuban audience stands. The batá drums sound. The staging has ended, the lights have been turned off, the curtain has come down. Eugenio Hernández Espinosa has died, one of those creators who cannot and will not let go of their roots, who write about the past projecting the present, who return – persistently – to the foundations of our creoleness.

To his sure pen, full of cultural syncretism and traditions, Cuban theater owes a good part of its most symbolic repertoire of the last six decades.

Spectators recount that in 1967, for the premiere of the iconic María Antonia, at the sidewalk of the Teatro Mella it was necessary to set up a bus stop due to the endless lines to enjoy the show. Some women even – they say – went with paper and pencil to copy the recipes of the Godmother.

Eugenio inhabits the imagination of the people. His talent assured his permanence on the national stage, and in the art that will come.

When we speak of idiosyncrasy, of the wonderful amalgam that Cubanness entails, of the Yoruba religion in our scenic arts, it will be essential to say loudly, as we cheer for great artists: Eugenio Hernández Espinosa.

Master, to applaud you, Cuba has left its seats. We do not bid you farewell, we thank you. Now you begin to write your most forceful work: your imperishable legacy in our popular theater.