Call it a case of unintended consequences, collateral artistic damage or simply an example of our natural attraction for undeserving demigods but my good friend Currado Malaspina has become something of a folk hero in Latin America.
He's referred to as "el extraño," and his image can be found on walls and stalls from Mexico to the Dominican Republic. He's a favorite among art students - but that's probably because of the legendary 2005 Museum of Contemporary Arts Guanajuato (MOCAG) exhibition Dónde está Duende where he featured portraits of the famous Telenovela starlette, Danaë Jerónima.
The fact that his fame has extended to the general population defies simple explanation.
He's often depicted in the company of Che or Fidel or Hugo Chavez but I've also seen his smug, silly portrait sharing space with Enrique Iglesies and Roberto Clemente.
One would think that Malaspina, whose Spanish rarely extends beyond "cerveza fría por favor" and "eso viene con plátanos fritos" would be an unlikely luminary among Latinos. But it probably began with his improbable friendship with the late Cuban master, Micah Carpentier.
I think Currado was in some way responsible for smuggling Carpentier's paper bag drawings out of Havana and into Paris.
Whatever it is, they seem to love him down there which is fine since nobody north of El Paso has ever heard of him.
He's referred to as "el extraño," and his image can be found on walls and stalls from Mexico to the Dominican Republic. He's a favorite among art students - but that's probably because of the legendary 2005 Museum of Contemporary Arts Guanajuato (MOCAG) exhibition Dónde está Duende where he featured portraits of the famous Telenovela starlette, Danaë Jerónima.
He's often depicted in the company of Che or Fidel or Hugo Chavez but I've also seen his smug, silly portrait sharing space with Enrique Iglesies and Roberto Clemente.
One would think that Malaspina, whose Spanish rarely extends beyond "cerveza fría por favor" and "eso viene con plátanos fritos" would be an unlikely luminary among Latinos. But it probably began with his improbable friendship with the late Cuban master, Micah Carpentier.
I think Currado was in some way responsible for smuggling Carpentier's paper bag drawings out of Havana and into Paris.
Whatever it is, they seem to love him down there which is fine since nobody north of El Paso has ever heard of him.
