National Museum of Fine Arts - (Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes) 1925
Rodriguez Morales stared at his clock. 5:46 am. A Westclox Baby Ben. He had purchased it from a street vendor in Havana several years earlier. It kept good time, losing only a minute every week. The glass face was cracked, and the alarm bell did not work. The steady “tick-tick-tick” was a heartbeat to Morales he needed this morning. It filled the small office with a comforting sound.
At 7:00 am he was meeting Captain Francisco Agramunt, his wife's cousin who claimed to have important art information. This meant he needed money and knew he could tempt Morales with any line containing the words; art, artworks, sculpture, etc.
6:00 am. Time for coffee. Morales turned in his chair and opened the door of a small, oak cabinet behind him. He pulled out three items that made his morning coffee ritual both sacred and perfect; The first was a simple drip coffee pot. However, this one was special. It was a Ferraro 2-cup Napoletano drip espresso pot made in Italy. Morales found it in one of the many “antique/junk” shops around the corner from the museum and had to have it. The second item was an old coffee grinder, rusted, black paint faded and worn. It was a Universal Coffee Mill and labeled “No. 110 One Pound” made in New Britain, Connecticut. Morales’ mother had used it for years to grind black pepper but now it was his and after cleaning, polishing and sharpening the gears it was ready for coffee. The coffee was the most important part of Morales’ morning ritual. He used exclusively Arabica beans, purchased locally by the Souto family, makers of the most popular brand “Cafe Bustelo”. He chose the dark roasted beans and ground them himself to ensure the freshest blend for his little espresso pot. Morales kept the beans wrapped in wax paper and then stored them in an oleomargarine tin with a tight lid. After grinding enough beans for two cups of espresso plus a little more for strength, he set an old, dented aluminum pan on his hot plate to boil the water. While he waited for the water to boil, he dismantled the four parts of his espresso pot, unscrewing the perforated cup from the bottom of the inner chamber, inspecting the bottom of the pot for holes and wiping the interior of every part with his special coffee rag, part of a flour sack that he had washed many times by hand and kept inside the pot. Satisfied that the pot was ready he filled the bottom cup with coffee, right to the top, and leveled it with his finger, saving every last piece of ground coffee. Reassembling the pot he turned and lifted the pan from the hot plate and slowly poured the near boiling water into the pot. As he waited for the espresso to develop its full, rich flavor he began the next step to make his true, signature recipe for Cuban coffee. He opened another tin containing his last remaining supply of Demerara sugar and looked inside at the raw, golden yellow crystals and sifted two heaping tablespoons into a two cup, glass Pyrex measuring cup so that he could add 1 tablespoon of the hot espresso as soon as it was ready. He removed a small, wooden handled wire whisk from his desk drawer, poured one tablespoon of the dark liquid into the Pyrex glass cup and then beat the sugar with the espresso until pale and thick and nearly dissolved. He then stirred in the remaining hot espresso. As we watched the foam rise to the top, he pulled out his favorite over-sized espresso cup and then poured the now complete formula into his cup. Morales sipped his coffee slowly and thought back to the many mornings he had watched his mother, and then, his grandfather make Cuban coffee this way. Remembering the past always helped him get through the stressful present days. He knew that today would be one of those days.
However, the morning was his now and there was no good reason to change the rest of his morning ritual.
Morales left his office and took his usual path through the museum to the Artes de Europa section. There he found his old friend Mattia Preti waiting for him. He pulled a heavy, dark brown, worn library chair out from a nearby alcove and positioned himself directly in front of his favorite Preti painting; “The Visitation”. A small placard below the painting gave more details;
“In this painting, Preti represents the meeting of the Virgin Mary with her older cousin Elizabeth. Mary hastened to visit her kinswoman following the Annunciation by the Angel Gabriel. Elizabeth, who was soon to give birth to St. John the Baptist, recognizes that Mary has been chosen as the mother of the Son of God, and greets her with the words “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.”
His museum, with a short 12 year history, had few significant works. It was his job to build the museum as a major institution for Cuba. Works of art from Europe were routinely trafficked to South America, with short but deliberate stops in Cuba. Their provenance was not always clear or well-documented but most items were in high demand worldwide and Morales could not afford to miss a chance to buy one for the museum. He hoped that this morning would be fruitful. 6:55 am. Time to meet Captain Agramunt who would be late as usual.
Agramunt, a drunk and a thief, usually had valuable information. He knew this could be sold more easily than the art pieces themselves. However, art history and the collections in Europe were an area where Morales excelled as he had mastered the practice of art acquisition years earlier, in Spain. Now it was time to build his own collection in Havana, for Cuba, of course.
They were to meet at the Cafe De Oriente on the Plaza de San Francisco near the Terminal Sierra Maestra. However, Morales wanted to control this meeting to make sure El Capitan knew who held the cards and the money so he countered that they meet in Old Havana on Avenida Amargura where there was a small cafe with excellent coffee and a small room in the back with the privacy they would need. He enjoyed walking through the streets of Old Havana and its magnificent buildings. Starting, of course, with the El Floridita, across the street from the museum at the Obispo street entrance. As he strolled down Avenida Belgica past the narrow street of Obrapia and then Lamparilla, the smells of roasting Arabica coffee beans was too tempting to resist and by the time he reached Old Havana, he had consumed two small cups of Cafe Cubano, the rich, dark coffee flavored with demerara sugar. It was not as good as his own brew but it was necessary for this day.
El Capitan woke up on his ship with an extremely bad hangover, as usual, and had rinsed his dry mouth out with sweet rum before leaving the ship with his aviator sunglasses on, a cigar in his teeth and barking orders at the crew as he stepped into the launch. It was a short trip to shore but he felt every wave like a punch in the gut. He needed coffee, badly. Especially if he was to make a good deal with Morales.
Agramunt shouldered his way past an older couple waiting at the door of the Cafe and squinted into the comparative darkness of the small shop. Morales stood up from his table in the back nd waved. Agramunt did not see him or did not acknowledge the wave. He simply weaved through the morning crowd, flopped down on a chair opposite Morales, put his greasy head down on the small table and held his head in his hands as he waved the waiter over for his coffee.
He said nothing at all until he had consumed two cups of the strong coffee and then, through bloodshot eyes he looked up at Morales and with a sickly, greenish smirk said;
“Morales, I have great news for you but it will cost you...a lot”
This was the same opening Agramunt used every time they met. Most of the time it was some small bit of information that Morales already had from his own art “informadors” all over Havana who would cheerfully share each item with him for a cup of coffee. However, this was a cousin and Morales knew the routine.
“Wonderful to see you El Capitan! You are looking well. The salt air has done wonders for you. Please share this valuable news with me immediately my friend!”
Morales quickly took a deep gulp from his coffee to swallow the bitter taste of bile in his mouth and to cover his own fake smile of disgust.
“Ahhhh Morales, Morales, my cousin and dear friend, this news is so great and valuable that I am not sure you are financially able to induce me to share it with you. However, as it involves priceless works of art and sculpture, just now being off-loaded from the Hercules, I am certain that you will find a way….”
Morales tried but failed to remain calm. He could not believe this story but was unable to contain his curiosity and leaned forward to hear more from Agramunt.
“Please go on, Capitan Agramunt”
“Of course! Of course! After we have eaten and had our visit! Cameraro! Ven Aqui!”
The Home of Salvatore Buffardi
Salvatore Buffardi sat on his deck overlooking Havana Harbor drinking coffee with his morning cigar. God, he hated these things but felt obliged to love them for the sake of his business, which was selling old masters art works to wealthy Cuban families. In 2 hours he had to meet with Alfredo Zayas, the President of Cuba, and his assistant, to discuss the sale of 43 hand-picked works of art that had just arrived from Cadiz, Spain and were still crated and hidden aboard a freighter in the harbor. He knew they were safe and on board because the flag above the freighter “Hercules” showed a simple design; a white square knot on a purple flag. This was the symbol he instructed the Captain to raise when his ship passed the El Morro Castle. Few, if any people in Cuba would know or care what this simple flag meant. The fact was that this was the symbol for the city of Cadiz, which depicted Hercules holding two lions. The ancient symbol for Hercules was the square knot. The valuable cargo was cleverly hidden aboard the vessel and the Captain and crew had been sworn to secrecy. Secrecy that would not last an hour after any one of the crew landed on shore.
President Alfredo Zayas was a fool and a poor leader for Cuba. He was also a very clever and violent man who hid behind an image of an aristocrat, an “amante del arte” who supported the arts and artistas of Cuba. His stronghold over Cuba would end soon for while some poets make good leaders of a revolution, Zayas was not one. However, his desire to leave a legacy to the Cuban people in the form of a bequest to the museum was an advantage for Buffardi. Buffardi knew that the works on board the Hercules were nothing compared to the collection hidden in his secret basement vault. These he would sell to the wealthy Americans filling the bars and casinos of Havana. Buffardi took one last look at the harbor, his ship, and the sun coming up over El Capitola...Today would be a good day.
End of chapter four – 01/01/2018 -7:23 am
next chapter notes
Buffardi decides to have a party to unveil the new paintings with Zayas in attendance pretending to see them for the first time…
Morales is invited to the party – Buffardi does not know that Morales knows all about the paintings – Morales does not know about Zayas plan...
Zayas plans to make a grand statement to the wealthy and important attendees that he will be buying ALL of the paintings and donate them to the Museum!
Morales gets an invitation to a Buffardi Party to View his new Paintings
Morales sees a Preti on the wall – it is labeled “The Dying Tobias” but Morales knows it is really a famous painting by Preti known as “Jacob Blessing The Children of Jacob”
After the party, Morales approaches Buffardi and asks about the Preti painting...”Would Buffardi donate the Preti to the Museum?” Buffardi is evasive and dismissive and Morales leaves with little hope
The next day, the paper announces a “gift” of paintings by European masters from President Alfredo Zayas to the Museum. He knows that The Captain was right and that Buffardi always intended to SELL the paintings not donate them.
Regardless, Morales awaits the delivery, expecting the Preti to be among the shipment...its not there
Buffardi decides to keep many of the best paintings but has a gambling debt to Severino Marazzos Y Andrade and has to give his remaining paintings to satisfy the debt (1937)
The Zayas government learns of Buffardi’s betrayal by holding back the best paintings and orders his arrest. Buffardi escapes to the USA and ends up in New York as an “Art Critic”
Severino Marazzos Y Andrade gives the paintings to Nicolas E Meneses, diplomat, who smuggles them to America that same year (1937). He is asked to hold the paintings until he hears from Andrade.
