Second Photo Paint-Over: The Palacio de Valle, Cienfuegos

For my second experiment in painting over photographs, I chose the Palacio de Valle in Cienfuegos, Cuba. I visited this remarkable building in 2013, and even now the memory of it still feels vivid, like stepping into a storybook.

The Artist’s Experiment

After working on Hemingway’s home in Havana for my first paint-over, I wanted to explore a different challenge. What I discovered with this piece was the special quality of working directly onto the photograph itself.

If the surface isn’t too glossy, painting onto the photo creates a tactile dialogue between the printed image and the brush. Each stroke shifts the photo from something fixed and mechanical into something living and interpretive. Working at a small scale forces you to slow down, to notice the tiniest details — the curve of an arch, the pattern of an iron railing, the shadow beneath a roof tile.

The finished piece feels almost jewel-like, not because of grandeur, but because of its intimacy. It holds the detail of a place in miniature, capturing the atmosphere in a way a larger canvas might not.

A Palace Like a Story

The Palacio de Valle itself is unforgettable. Built in 1913, it was designed to echo the grandeur of a Persian palace, with Moorish arches, Gothic flourishes, and Baroque carvings woven together into one extravagant creation.

When I stepped inside, it felt like walking into a dream. Sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, casting brilliant patterns of red, gold, and green across the mosaic floors. The air was heavy with history, and the walls seemed to whisper with the echoes of another era.

Over time, the building has played many roles: a private mansion, a high-end hotel, nearly a casino, and finally, after the Revolution, a state-run restaurant. Wandering through its rooms and terraces, I felt as though each corner held a trace of its layered past.

The rooftop bar looked out over the bay, and I remember pausing on a terrace to breathe in the view — water stretching to the horizon, framed by delicate ironwork and carved stone. The palace radiated both elegance and decay, glamorous yet worn, timeless yet fragile.

Reflections

Painting over the photograph became a way of holding onto that memory — not just as an image, but as an experience. The brush softened the edges, lent warmth to the stone, and gave the palace back its dreamlike quality.

The Palacio de Valle reminded me that some places are more than architecture: they are stories carved in stone, waiting to be remembered. And working directly on the photograph turned my memory of that moment into something tangible and jewel-like — a small keepsake from a larger journey.

Have you ever visited a place that felt like stepping into a storybook?