..the peacock and branches that envelop the swarm of birds are so
intricately cut and hammered that at a distance, the large folding
screen resembles lace. It’s hard to believe that the artist who crafted
Gingerbread, a new warehouse gallery in Miami-Dade’s Design District, is
filled with such unlikely creations. The collection was put together by
Axelle Liautaud, who, like a mother coddling young, warms her tony space
with Haitian antiques, crafts and paintings that defy their humble
beginnings.
Liautaud, who’s preparing for a grand opening Wednesday, hopes her
pieces will remind the world that Haitian art is far more than the
brightly colored streets-capes more commonly sold.
“Forty years ago, every art collector in this country knew that there
were amazing paintings to be collected in Haiti, and they were
collected.” she says.”What we’re suffering now is cultural isolation,
and the only way we can go back to the place we deserve is if we break
this isolation and show the best and show the best that we can offer.
Carol Damian, chairwoman of Florida
international University’s art department, curated a show of modern
Haitian art several years ago in Miami Beach. She agrees there’s
exceptional work being done in Haiti that has little outlet.
In 1940s in Port-au-Prince, a very important school was established
where they went out into the countryside and found untrained artists who
were intuitively excellent artists,” Damian says. “They opened up an art
gallery to promote the work and that started the whole interest in
Haitian art, and it became an industry. A lot of Americans were
collecting at the time. It really put Haitian art on the world stage.
“There work now that needs to be seen not in the context of Haitian art,
but of all contemporary art.”
To that end, Liautaud, a trained fashion designer, has been traveling
between United States and Haiti, toting back her treasures. Her
long-term hope is to organize shows with other galleries and museums and
bring more of Haiti’s highest-end art and sculpture to Miami’s Design
District.
Liautaud’s loft, at 4030 N. Miami Ave. (Look for the metal door inside
the chain-link-fenced parking between 40th and 41st streets), already
boasts of works by Haitian masters Rigaud Benoit and Wilson Bigaud,
which can sell for as much as $15,000, as well as sparkling beaded
bottles for $45.
In between are huge, marvelous. Aluminum candelabras for $250, mahogany
sleigh beds for $650 to $750 and $125 cement pots covered in a rainbow
of mosaic tiles.
Liautaud says most Haitian sculptors use recycled materials-steel,
aluminum, glass, car parts, what ever they can get.
“Everyone’s buying power in Haiti has dropped to zero. It’s a real
struggle to keep buying art, to keep the artist going. My hope is to
make a difference in their lives because the situation is very
difficult.”
Liautaud, 54, who grew up in Haiti, comes from a family of artists and
designers. She studied design in Canada and France and eventually opened
Gingerbread in Port-au-Prince. There, she came to know many of the
Island’s finest artists and crafts people. Her store in Haiti is still
operating, but there are a few customers.
“There are no tourists or visitors of any kind,” she says. “The
airplanes to Haiti are filled with Haitians because of the political
situation, and when people don’t visit your country, they loose interest
in the culture.”
Gingerbread will fill a void and find an audience, says John Protomaster,
president of the Miami Design District Merchants Association and owner
of Protomaster & Company.
“We have a good ethnic mix, but the one thing we’re lacking is Haitian.
She’ll do well,” says Protomaster.
“We have some Indonesian, African and Latin American. Having a place
with high-end look- that’s exactly the thing the Design District wants
to attract. We want to be known for exceptional goods, not just a repeat
of what you have at the DCOTA,” the Design Center of the Americas, in
Dania..
The pieces that will greet guests at the opening include a
seven-foot-long mermaid made of recycled aluminum, bits of green bottles
and mirrored circles. One Fascinating oil titled The Underworld has one
cast of characters by day that are joined by several other mysterious
figures by night, when the piece is illuminated.
One of the most noted Haitian painters living in Miami, Edouard
Duval-Carrie, is encouraged by Liautaud’s efforts.
“There’s very few outpost for Haitian artist and craftsmen,”Duval Carrie
says.”There’s no support system for them. They end up selling McDonnalds
and cooking on the beach.
“The annual salary for Haitians is just a few hundred dollars a year.
It’s a very sad situation,” he says. “There’s so much potential to
create exceptional things there, but there’s no economy for them. Trying
to help is a must.”
One of the ways Liautaud tries to help is by guiding craftspeople to
make marketable items.
She recently sold several dozen Haitian-made handbags to Kate Spade
representative in New York, who plan to display them in all their
showrooms. Liautaud gives the seamstresses general guidance, then allows
them to fill the cloth bags with brightly colored sequin designs of
their own creation.
The purses, covered with faces, flower, insects and occasional skull and
crossbones, are for sale ($45 to $250 depending on size) at the Museum
of Contemporary Art in North Miami Beach in addition to Liautaud’s
store.
“Each is one-of-a-kind,” she says.“I guide the craftspeople to make more
useful items of high quality, like handbags and eyeglass cases. Good
zippers, good stitching- that’s what will sell here. I try to steer them
to do work that they can make a living from.
“The incredible thing is that while I try to guide them, they always
surprise me with their amazing creations. During the worst of the worst
of times I find these artists who create such beautiful things They keep
me inspired and somehow they find it in themselves to be inspired.”
Liautaud says she hopes to be a bridge to her beloved Haiti.
“The only way people become interested in a culture is if they see where
it’s alive, in its streets, its architecture, its people, but it’s not
happening,”she says.”That’s why I like the combination of art, furniture
and crafts in my gallery, because when you look around here you feel
like you’re in a house and the work is alive.”
<
“I've been tempted to quit because times have been so difficult in
Haiti, but the artists I work with give me so much, they surprise me so
much, it’s hard to turn my back on them.”
Copyright Miami Herald
