(…) Carmen Herrera, calls attention in a world in which art is—in first instance?—a merchandise. She stands out after so many years with her back to the market, to the public, to the collectors, to the museums; from New York, in a private space for which I do not find an adequate “definition” in just one word, and much less a (photographic) image to weigh it up. (…) And still more “incomprehensible” is the fact that her creation has been in varied stages and exhibitions—individual and collective—in the sixties, seventies, eighties, nineties… Then, she herself has been a “mystery” in these last decades. Or some have wanted to formulate it. Or is it real?
Herrera is the owner of a balanced, poetic language, in which line and color swap re-accommodating at will that, perhaps, go through the filter of reason or the senses. (…)
Her artistic origins in an island as Cuba, specifically Havana as a capital more than a geographic order, point out training with advisers-professors who have decided very little—according to the historiographic discourse—in those students who, very soon, would be the true pillars of an artistic production. Students-artists that in a (far-off) future would be a sure pastime of auction houses, museums and collectors. (…)