Cuban-American artist Hernan Bas finds his current muse in Venice, where he’s been immersed in painting tourists this year. He acknowledges the inherent irony in his situation, admitting that within a week of his arrival, he found himself contemplating Venetian property prices. Hailing from Miami, Bas is no stranger to the overwhelming realities of mass tourism. His own neighborhood in Miami has been so profoundly transformed by Airbnbs that taxi drivers, upon dropping him off, often inquire if he’s visiting, requiring him to clarify that he resides there.
From his studio overlooking the tranquil lagoon, Bas can adopt the persona of an innocent, forgetful tourist, absorbing the city’s aesthetic splendors and momentarily disconnecting from the global turmoil. “I can pretend nothing’s happening in the world,” he reveals, a practice he’s diligently maintained for the past seven weeks. His thoughts then drift, with a somber tinge, back to his hometown and the complex political landscape of his country. He expresses bewilderment at the strong support for Trump within the Latin community, lamenting the current predicament where many who championed him now face deportation and hardship. “Those same people who were gung ho for Trump are now getting deported,” he states.
Bas’s artistic focus often centers on depicting young, attractive white men, a choice driven by his fascination with characters like Holden Caulfield. Yet, his portraits possess an underlying edge, hinting at something more profound or unsettling beneath the surface.
Hernan Bas: Venice’s Enchantment and His Captivating Artistry
Cuban-American artist Hernan Bas is currently finding inspiration in Venice, where he has dedicated this year to painting tourists. He is keenly aware of the irony inherent in his position, confessing that within a mere week of his stay, he began researching property prices in Venice. Originally from Miami, Bas is intimately familiar with the overwhelming nature of mass tourism. His own neighborhood in Miami has been so significantly altered by the proliferation of Airbnbs that taxi drivers, upon dropping him off, often mistakenly ask if he is a visitor, necessitating his explanation that it is his home.
From his studio, which offers a view of the gentle waves of the lagoon, Bas can embrace the role of an unburdened, amnesiac tourist, absorbing the city’s visual beauty and deliberately ignoring the violence and disasters unfolding elsewhere. “I can pretend that nothing is happening in the world,” he shares when we met in the spring, a practice he claims to have executed with remarkable success for the past seven weeks. At times, his thoughts return with a sense of despair to his hometown and the turbulent politics of his nation. He expresses his astonishment at the extent to which the Latin community supported Trump, and now, he notes, everyone is suffering because they are hiding from ICE. “Those same people who were enthusiastic about Trump are now being deported,” he remarks.
Hernan Bas is drawn to painting the kind of individuals he finds attractive, specifically young, fair-skinned men, a fascination partly inspired by his interest in Holden Caulfield. However, his portraits carry a subtly sinister quality, inviting deeper contemplation.