Institute of Industrial Design Ransacked: Documents and Equipment Vanish in Central Havana

The Institute of Industrial Design (ISDI), a renowned academic establishment in Havana, was thoroughly looted after it was left unguarded. Luis Lacosta, the art director of ICAIC, highlighted this disturbing incident on Facebook, describing it as "total alarming vandalism."

Lacosta revealed that the building on Belascoaín Street in Central Havana was left without security following a partial collapse at one corner. This vulnerability was exploited by individuals who, according to local residents, began removing furniture, drawing tables, televisions, air conditioners, and institutional documents.

The art director stressed that the looting resulted not only in the loss of physical resources but also in the disappearance of thesis papers, presentations, and historical records that constituted part of the institute's heritage. "This is beyond concerning. Since the collapse, it seems to have been left unprotected, and everything was gradually taken away. Even doors and windows have vanished," he wrote.

Lacosta questioned the authorities' lack of response to the incident and demanded explanations for how a university institution could be abandoned to the point of devastation. "What answers can the Cuban government provide to the people? Are our museums safe now that criminals recognize the value of our heritage?" he asked.

Photos shared by the artist show gaps where doors and windows once stood, including the main entrance, confirming the building's deterioration and vulnerability. The complaint has sparked outrage on social media, where former students and design professionals mourned the loss of what had been a beacon of artistic and technical education in Cuba for decades.

As of now, Cuban authorities have not issued any official statements regarding the looting or the current state of the ISDI building. Lacosta's complaint comes shortly after Esteban Aquino, a three-decade ISDI graduate, publicly lamented the disarray of research, theses, and books once housed by the institution. Aquino posted images on Facebook of historical documents, diploma projects, and specialized literature scattered on the ground like mere waste.

This material was reportedly found discarded in Carlos J. Finlay Park in Havana, an event that has enraged alumni, industry professionals, and cultural heritage advocates. The ISDI is facing one of the most critical phases in its recent history. The building's partial collapse in Central Havana marked the beginning of relentless deterioration, following years of ignored warnings about structural issues.

Despite being supported since 2022, the facility remained in use until institutional inaction succumbed to its precarious state. The day following the collapse brought even more devastating images. Part of the building completely gave way, injuring an elderly woman and leaving four families homeless.

Academic community voices referred to the event as a reflection of the nation: "The collapse of the ISDI is also the collapse of Cuba," wrote a graduate designer on social media amid a wave of indignation that resonated strongly both within and outside the university sphere.

Instead of finding solace in their leaders, students and alumni criticized the dean's authoritarianism, accusing him of ideological repression and disconnection from technological reality. His assertion that "you don't need the internet to design" was widely rejected and viewed as a symbol of management out of touch with the present and indifferent to a community's increasingly dire needs.

In an effort to recover from both physical and symbolic collapse, the ISDI announced its relocation to the former Polytechnic Pablo de la Torriente Brau in Playa. The original site was officially declared uninhabitable, marking the end of more than four decades in the heart of Havana. Authorities are promising a period of reconstruction, although doubts linger about the center's future and the institutional capacity to repair years of neglect that have left scars on Cuban design's legacy.