You Don’t Know Me: Michel Mirabal, Three Decades of Art and Visual Rebellion

In conversation with Arte por Excelencias, Michel Mirabal—recipient of the Excelencias Art Award in Cuba—reflects on three decades of artistic journey, explores the nuances of his recent work, and shares an exclusive preview of his major exhibition scheduled for November 2025.

In recent installations such as Architecture of a System (Venice, 2023), you incorporate exhaust pipes, passports, and wire. How do these unconventional materials challenge your traditional relationship with painting?

In Cuba, many people are only familiar with two of my series, the ones featuring hands and flags, both centered on painting. However, I have long worked with diverse materials in institutions, galleries, and museums outside the country. Using elements like exhaust pipes or wire is not new to my practice, it simply was not widely known. For many, it has come as a surprise to see this side of my work.

Your color blindness is often mentioned as part of your identity, but you've rarely spoken in detail about its technical impact on your palette. Is it a limitation that you transformed into a distinctive visual language?

I was diagnosed with color blindness as a child. I can distinguish primary colors well, but I confuse others. I sometimes fail to recognize certain shades, like magenta or pink. So, early in my career, I decided to create based on a personal palette, one guided by what I see and feel rather than by conventional colors. That decision became part of my visual language.

From public murals in Cuba to video art (Exodus, Causes and Consequences, 2023), what led you to explore immersive and collaborative formats?

Art is often a very personal experience, but it also gains depth through collective work, especially when collaborating with friends you admire. Exodus was a video art project created with Alejandro Pérez and Frank Fernández, two essential figures in Cuban art and close friends. Working with them felt natural and deeply rewarding.

At the Venice Biennale, you address migration. How do these works relate to your personal experience of struggling to be away from Cuba without falling into depression?

Like many Cubans, I have experienced the migration of close family and friends. One of the hardest moments was when my youngest daughter moved to Barcelona. It was difficult to accept, but I understood it was the best choice for her. As a father, you also have to learn to let your children fly. That personal experience inevitably finds its way into my work.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, you provided food for 90 families from your farm. Today, how do you integrate that social commitment with your international career without compromising either?

At Finca Calunga, the most important thing is not the art itself but what it generates—networks of solidarity. Thanks to relationships built with figures from the art world and beyond, we have been able to deliver medication to Cuba almost every year. We organize trips, collect donations, and keep track of families in need. It is not about filling the gaps the state cannot cover, it is about contributing from where we can.

You have worked with children without parental support. Have you documented how art has helped in their emotional recovery? Are there stories that have particularly moved you?

I still stay in touch with many of those children. Some have faced challenges, but most are doing well. They have jobs, run their own businesses, some have even become influencers. I have always tried to support them however I can, whether that means pulling someone out of a police unit or involving them in activities at the farm. Seeing them move forward is one of the greatest rewards art has given me.

Your musical background and the legacy of Martha Jean-Claude are part of your heritage. Are there any pending sound or performance projects?

I was recently invited to record a track as a percussionist. I have also had conversations with Los Van Van about collaborating on a song, all within the framework of a documentary Netflix is producing about my life, from childhood to the present. The film will be directed by Alejandro Pérez. It is a very personal project that will reflect every stage of my life, beyond just the art.

Do you still consider yourself a “perpetual nonconformist,” even now that your work decorates airports and palaces?

Despite my international projection, it has been 15 years since I held a solo exhibition in Cuba. There simply have not been enough opportunities or spaces. That did not stop me, I just took my work beyond the island. The Venice Architecture Biennale, for instance, was a tremendous success. Still, yes, I do consider myself a nonconformist.

Is there anything else you would like to add?

This year marks the 30th anniversary of my artistic career. After more than a decade, I will finally exhibit in my home country once again. The exhibition will take place in November at the Línea y 18 Fairgrounds. I will be presenting everything that has never been shown in Cuba before—murals, installations, paintings. The title says it all: You Don’t Know Me. It will be an international event, featuring prominent figures from the cultural world, fashion shows, and guest critics. I am fully dedicated to this show and thrilled to share my work at home once more.

Thank you very much, Michel.