The city of Paderborn is ready to celebrate the highlights of international short film art when “Oberhausen meets Paderborn” opens its doors for an unforgettable short film night. The event will take place on Wednesday, 18 October at 8pm at Pollux by Cineplex (Westernstraße 34, 33098 Paderborn). Tickets are available online from Cineplex or directly at the box office.
The Short Film Night offers the opportunity to discover emerging talents and renowned filmmakers from all over the world. The programme includes new works by filmmakers such as Lynne Sachs from the USA and artists from Colombia as well as German and Austrian productions. The diverse selection reflects the global range of cinematic art and invites the audience to explore new perspectives and stories.
A special highlight of the event is the presentation of short films carefully selected by students of Paderborn University. Within a seminar, the students were able to experience the “69th International Short Film Festival Oberhausen” and have then put together a programme. These films are the result of passionate work and creative inspiration, covering a wide range of genres and narrative styles.
The 14th “Oberhausen meets Paderborn” Short Film Night is not only an opportunity to enjoy art and culture, but also a platform for filmmakers and the audience to exchange ideas and network. Film enthusiasts in particular will have the opportunity to see short films that are otherwise rarely seen on the internet or even on the big screen.
About “Oberhausen meets Paderborn
“Oberhausen meets Paderborn” is an annual short film night that presents the best short films from around the world. The event provides a platform for emerging filmmakers and established artists to present their work to a wide audience and celebrate the magic of short film.
Annette and LynneAnnette BrauerhochLynne Sachs at PaderbornStudent CuratorsStephan Ahrens Stephan Ahrens Lynne Sachs Annette B and projectionistsPorn CollectionPorn Collection
In May 1968, the Catonsville Nine, a group of Catholic priests and laypeople who wanted to stop the Vietnam War, burned draft records. They used homemade napalm. They had previously stolen the files from a district military replacement office in broad daylight. For some it was a crime, for others it was civil disobedience. For the composer Leonard Bernstein, this action, which caused a lot of attention in the public and also in the Catholic Church, was an important impulse for his musical theater piece Mass. He was friends with Father Daniel Berrigan, who was sentenced to prison for this action.
The feminist filmmaker Lynne Sachs made a film about this action in 2001 and allowed the activists, but also employees of the authority, jurors and the public prosecutor to have their say: How do they see the action in retrospect?
She comes to Münster for the premiere of the film (with German subtitles) and speaks to Professor Dr. Oliver Tolmein after the screening about the film and the meaning and consequences of civil disobedience.
This is the second event in “Heaven, Hell, Happy Ending”, the new series that accompanies musical theater productions.
For the final PETROPRESENTS at Petrohradská 13, we have invited American poet and filmmaker Lynne Sachs for two evenings of hand-picked short film screenings and one workshop, which are free for the public. Curated by Christopher Small and Daniela Hanusová.
TUESDAY 10 19:30 Program 1: Film is a Collaborative Art (90 mins)
THURSDAY 12 18:00 Lynne Sachs: Making Films Personally and Politically (Workshop, 60 mins) 19:30 Program 2: Feminism as Filmmaking (90 mins)
Lynne Sachs will be present for two nights of screenings, on Tuesday 10th and Thursday 12th October. Before the second program on the 12th, Lynne will give a special workshop to the students of Film Studies at Charles University, which is also open to the public, at Petrohradská kolektiv in Prague, Czech Republic.
Admission to the screenings and the workshop are free of charge, but the capacity of the workshop is limited, so please register if you wish to take part.
Lynne Sachs’s work — both cinematic and poetic — and theoretical thinking teeter on multiple edges; somewhere between the deeply personal and the general, the corporeal and the abstract, the introspective yet always relatable. Kino Petrohradská will screen two blocks of her short documentaries: one exploring feminism as a method of filmmaking, the other Sachs’ frequent tendency to make films collaboratively and communally – whether with her family or with other filmmakers (as in her collaboration with queer cinema pioneer Barbara Hammer on A Month of Single Frames).
In her talk, Sachs will combine film and feminist theory with labour history, focusing on the concepts of reproductive labour, performativity and somatic cinema. The lecture will be based on her forthcoming collaborative publication (with contributions from, for example, the prominent feminist theorist Silvia Federici). The book analyses the process of making her film The Washing Society, exploring the milieu of New York’s laundries and the intersections of immigration, race and capitalism. The talk will be followed by a discussion.
DRAWN & QUARTERED (3 min., 1987) Recently read Laura Mulvey’s “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema”. Male gaze challenged. Talk about French feminist theorists Helene Cixous, Luce Irigeray and Julia Kristeva.
WINDOW WORK (9 min, 2000) I was performer, cameraperson, and director – one woman band so to speak. Talk about domestic work, being a mother, Silvia Federici (who came into my life much later), “Wages for House Work” and her theories of Reproductive Labor. Talk about Chantal Ackerman’s “The Bed”.
ATALANTA: 32 YEARS LATER (5 min., 2006) Revision of mythic story of the princess Atlanta whose father, the King, wanted her to marry a prince. She refused, unless he organized a competition of princes around the kingdom who would race to see who was the fastest. The fastest could marry her. I rewrite this, “queer” it, feminize it as we might say today. Dedicated to Barbara Hammer.
AND THEN WE MARCHED (3 min. 2017) How do we as artists participate in the swirl of mainstream politics. Can we change thinking? How does our witness make a difference?
CONTRACTIONS (10 min. 2024) Working collectively to speak out for reproductive justice. Just the act of coming together can make a difference at least amongst ourselves. Talk about Fred Moten’s concept of “hesitant sociology”. Talk about Meredith Monk’s “Elis Island.”
THE JITTERS (3 min. 2023) Coming full circle with Drawn and Quarted almost 40 years later. Talk about Carolee Schneeman’s “Fuses”.
Interactive Section – how do we move a concern, concept or conundrum from just being an idea to being a visual or oral experience of very short duration?
Listen to topics from our volunteers and brainstorm on a film they really could make with their cell phone and a computer editing program they probably already have.
The Jitters 3 min. 16 mm, black and white, silent by Lynne Sachs
I wanted to create a film with my Bolex 16mm camera that reflects who I am at this moment in my life. I bought my camera in 1987, used. It has lived with me for four decades, and it has witnessed pretty much every aspect of my existence. I decided to shoot my roll of black and white film one frame at a time. With 24 frames in a second, this gave me the chance to work more expansively with the Bolex, pushing its capabilities as far as they might go. “The Jitters” includes three very specific performative elements. My partner Mark Street and I wiggle around, watching and celebrating who we are independently and together. I also include my three pet frogs because I like the way that they wiggle in unison and on their own. These small reptiles have been part of our family’s life for 19 years, they needed to be memorialized on film. Lastly, I bring two bonsai trees into the tableaux, because they too should be applauded, for their persistence and longevity. Strangely enough, they wiggle too, that’s part of the magic of film.
Assignment: Respond to this photo without any details.
This is Not How I Imagine It But How It Is Lynne Sachs, July 15, 2023 This is not how I imagine it but how it is. I’m somewhere, probably in a place where I’ve spent all night with my head on a pillow, not mine, with closed eyes in a room where I’m not sure how far the walls are from the soft mattress, and there is a body next to me, but it’s so dark I don’t actually know if the body is on my left and if the wall is on my right. I’m scared, very scared that if I move, I might bang against the wall or the body, and I’ll forget to caress the body or I’ll knock my head thump against the wall, and so I become a hardened plank. My eyes see nothing. I remember the time I learned about the pupils in your eyes. But mine don’t open up in the darkness, or reduce to almost nothing in the sunlight. The little dark holes in my eyeballs don’t ever adapt, the way yours do. They’re set to an open that resembles the way that I drew my first self-portrait, just dark balls in a dirty pool of brown. It’s just a miracle that they see anything at all anymore on a normal day, a normal day. Is it part of growing old? To have this feeling of being in a bed with a wall and forgetting who is there with you. Even when you look, you only see a blue glow casting shadows on darkness from the LED lights of the cable, the clock, the modem, the things that remind you of what you could be, or do when, in reality, you’re happiest, when you are just overwhelmed. Then you scoot down the mattress, worried that you’ll scratch your face on the toenail that belongs to that person who is there with you. The clock reminds you it is 4 AM and you assume you have Covid. What else could it be? A cold, watery chill moves through your limbs and down your belly into your groin. At last you’re on the floor, with no idea how to find the door, your fingers creep along, leading you away from the now red light of the digital clock you found in the closet and thought might be helpful in your life, this time around. There you are on hands on knees, as they say, moving in a direction that might or might not be OUT and your nose tells you to go this way rather than that. Oh my, it’s a piece of furniture. You know it because your forehead smashes against it as soon as you push yourself a little further than you thought you would ever go. UP. It feels like the chair you bought at IKEA, or maybe the one you found in your mother’s attic, the one she didn’t want because it reminds her of your father or maybe it’s the high chair where you first slurped pumpkin through your lips past your gums into your throat, or maybe it’s the chair pulled from a game of musical chairs where you were almost out , but weren’t. You emerged with one chair in your grip. It’s that chair, the one in which you were declared a winner. There in the almost darkness you feel its sturdiness, plus something else you can’t quite detect. Of course, your pupils are still too small but your nose smells a flower. It’s a rose and you know better than to touch it. A rose has thorns. You remember that, at least. Better not touch. Just sit down and maybe you’ll feel different, or maybe better, maybe the same, but at least you’re off the floor now. You pull yourself up higher, feel all your weight, breathe as deeply as you can, like they taught you in that exercise class a few years ago. Then you rest in the chair. Feel the petals coming up through the seat, tickling your anus. Now at long last, you can rest, and then you feel a sensation, electricity, running through your fingers and into your organs and you wonder for just how long you can remain alive.
Distortions: Moscow Conceptualists Working Today September 9 – October 28, 2023
Hunter College Art Galleries: 205 Hudson Gallery 205 Hudson Street New York, NY Hours: Tuesday–Saturday, 12-6pm
Curated by Hunter College Professors Daniel Bozhkov and Joachim Pissarro with Dr. Olga Zaikina and Graduate Curatorial Fellow Victoria Borisova
Exhibition Moscow Conceptualism began as an alternative underground art world in the late Soviet Union. Its unofficial status shaped its artistic methods and theoretical framework. The exhibition includes original objects, archival materials, and working models of original artworks, alongside new projects created by Moscow Conceptualists in collaboration with art and art history students and faculty at Hunter College. Thus, Distortions is an experiment in intergenerational and cross-cultural collaboration. It aims to transform the gallery into a two-month long forum exploring how existing artworks can be activated to create new living situations, and how documents can be used beyond the preservation of the past.
Participating artists and art groups: Yuri Albert (born 1959 in Moscow, lives and works in Cologne) Collective Actions (active 1976-present) Gnezdo (active 1974-79) Sabine Hänsgen (born 1955 in Dusseldorf, lives and works in Bochum, Germany) Andrei Monastyrski (born 1949 in Pechenga, Russia, lives and works in Moscow), Victor Skersis (born 1956 in Moscow, lives and works in Bethlehem, PA) Nadezhda Stolpovskaya (born 1959 in Moscow, lives and works in Cologne, Germany) SZ Group (active 1980-84, 1989, 1990) Vadim Zakharov (born 1959 in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, lives and works in Berlin, Germany).
Distortions: Moscow Conceptualists Working Today was developed through a two-semester graduate curatorial seminar at Hunter College led by professors Daniel Bozhkov and Joachim Pissarro with Dr. Olga Zaikina. It included studio art students: Lauren Cline, Tucker Claxton, LeLe Dai, Paula De Martino, Alicia Ehni, Stevie Knauss, Milly Skelington, Johnny Sagan; and art history students: Caitlin Anklam, Victoria Borisova, Jay Bravo, Andrea Dauhajre, Curtis Eckley, Daniel Kuzinez, Jake Robinson. Visiting scholar: Virginia Marano, PhD Candidate, University of Zürich, Switzerland.
Onward, Patty Zimmerman! Flaherty September 7, 2023
Onward, Patty Zimmerman!
1955-2023
After the 1990 Flaherty Seminar in Riga, Patty, her husband Stewart Auyash, Marlon Riggs, and I posed with Matryoshka dolls we had brought back.
As exciting as the rowboat?
I owe my entire career as a film programmer to Patty getting me a job directing Cornell Cinema in 1982. She lobbied the search committee relentlessly, and they had no choice but to hire me. She pulled me into the orbit of the Flaherty Seminar, and we collaborated frequently on the Flaherty Board of Directors and on special events like the 1990 Seminar in Riga, Latvia and the 50th Anniversary program at Vassar College in 2004.
Patty and I met 46 years ago when we were first-year graduate students in Communication Arts at University of Wisconsin-Madison. I had never met anyone like Patty. She was funny, brilliant, radical, and utterly dazzling. As close friends, we were explosive together. We never stopped talking and arguing and debating and laughing our heads off. To make some extra money, both of us were part-time projectionists for film classes at UW. I’d sit in the projection booth with her when she was projecting, and she would sit in with me. David Bordwell, the big shot film professor at UW, would frequently step into the booth and ask us to shut up.
When I think of my relationship with Patty in the early years of our friendship, I always think of the rowboat we took out on a lake in the Adirondacks during the 1983 Flaherty Seminar. Patty and I had gotten worked up by a film, although I can barely remember why. We both tore into the film during the discussion and then immediately got into the rowboat. Patty was still fuming and was paddling furiously, so much so that I thought we might go overboard. For decades after this, we could crack each other up by asking, if one of us mentioned an exciting experience: “As exciting as the rowboat?”
The shock of her sudden, early death has felt like tipping over. But attending her powerful burial service (music and poetry, I was told, programmed by Patty), witnessing the moving testimonials by faculty and administrators during the Ithaca College live-streamed memorial, and reading the cascade of reminiscences by students and colleagues on social media has almost righted me. I’m grateful for having been a part of her well-lived life.
Richard Herskowitz, Past Board president (1993-95), Programmer (1987, 1990 Riga, 1999), Chair of 50th Anniversary Committee (2004)
Patty was a beacon and a shout.
I don’t often find myself speechless, but I have felt a veil of numbness and disbelief ever since seeing a notice of Patty Zimmermann’s death last week. It feels hard to confront this reality by putting words on paper. Patty touched my life in a number of ways over the years. Patty was a beacon and a shout. Her brilliance and courage showed me a view of the academy that I had not seen before. Her passion for media theory and its concerns was an index of her larger passion for humanity.
I first encountered Patty when we were both on a New York State Council on the Arts (NYSCA), Media panel in the mid 1980’s. I was taken then by her energy and her intelligence. I loved that she was so smart, and willing to defend our teaching of experimental film and cutting edge documentary work that was pushing formal boundaries and exposing issues that came out of the civil rights and women’s movements. She had an intelligence and an edge that reflected a sharp, smart, and critical attitude that I had seen in others from the graduate Communication Arts program at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, during the 70s.
Patty’s inspirational leadership was instrumental in the founding of the Central New York Programmer’s Group. Patty (from Ithaca College) and Scott MacDonald (from Utica College) came to Colgate where I was teaching for an initial gathering of media programmers from the greater Central, Western, and Southern Tier areas of New York State to discuss ways that we could work together. The object was to bring filmmakers to our programs that we, as individual institutions, could not afford to do alone. The result was major NYSCA support for additional funding for visiting artists and the salary of a part-time coordinator on the Cornell campus in Ithaca. The CNYPG continued for twenty, years until 2006.
It was Patty’s idea that the Flaherty Film Seminar should move to Colgate. Patty had seen its newly completed Golden Auditorium Cinema and Clifford Art Gallery, and saw the possibilities for the Flaherty. She approached me with the idea. I approached the Flaherty and the rest is history. I tell the story in detail in Patty and Scott’s book Flash Flaherty. This gesture demonstrates, once again, Patty’s devotion to building community.
Finally, I am grateful to Patty for supporting and screening my work around the world, including in Singapore. Many years ago, I sat in on a session about found footage at a media conference at the Northeast Film Archive, in Maine. I walked into a screening room and Patty Zimmerman was on stage talking about one of my early collage videos. I didn’t know that she was going to be there or that she was going to talk about my work.
Patty Zimmermann was a wonderful colleague, scholar, teacher, and friend. She will be missed and remembered by many who were touched by her.
John Knecht, Russell Colgate Distinguished, University Professor of Art and Art History and Film and Media Studies. Emeritus. Moscow Road, August 31, 2023
A provocateur, an intellectual, an activist.
Patty was a dear colleague, a mentor, and an ally. I met her at the Opening Night of the 50th Flaherty Seminar in 2004, and a year later I had the opportunity to hang out with her at the Morelia Film Festival in Mexico. Since then, we developed a close relationship, and she played a big role in my programming the Seminar in 2007 along with Mahen Bonetti.
Patty was generous, she offered insightful professional advice, and always had good gossip. In addition to the Flaherty experiences, she was kind enough to invite me to the Finger Lakes Environmental Film Festival family, where I was able to see her most in her element.
A provocateur, a true intellectual, and an activist, she certainly leaves a big academic and professional legacy. I hope we can all honor it by carrying forward her passion.
Carlos Gutiérrez, 2007 Seminar Co-Programmer
ONWARD
I’d like to share this small hand-written note Patty (and Scott) sent me when they were editing the collective Flash Flaherty volume. Probably the last contact I had with her. Onward.
Patty and Helen at the Madres de Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires during the Visible Evidence Conference, 2018.
A sparkler. A synthesizer. An enactivist.
Since 1987, when we met at a Flaherty Seminar, I’ve been on a collaborative and co-creative adventure with my dear friend and sister in solidarity, Patty Zimmermann. I will always see her, not only as a media historian and theorist, but as a creator playing on a variety of platforms —from social media to her famous hand notes, from lecturing to our global convenings on Zoom, from the FLEFF festival to books, performances, articles, and online journalism. Her desire to expand media as a free-range environment for the imagination and all its possibilities knew few constraints.
There are three images where her energy and spirit live on for me and, I hope, for all of us connected through the Flaherty Seminar:
Patty. The Fourth of July Sparkler—incandescent, burning brightly, sending out sparks and lighting up everyone who comes into contact with you. Your sizzling flares would ignite new ideas, connections, and explorations. Your appetite for new places and people was loads of fun, bringing all kinds of folks together to spark new relationships, and support one another in new and completely surprising ways.
Patty. The Master Synthesizer. With your background in journalism and skill for deep listening, you would hear and combine multiple parts of conversations, thoughts, and feelings that no one else picked up. You could put your own ego aside to open up to the wonders of other people’s ideas, research and art. You would recognize them fully and generously. In our quarterly global Zoom convenings during the COVID years, we would tag team facilitating the conversations, so everyone involved had a chance to be heard. At the end, you would pull together all the pieces into a coherent narrative that was exciting, expansive, and important. I would leave the meeting feeling more empowered than I could have imagined during those dark months of pandemic and protest.
Patty. The Enactivist. You would practice what you valued the most — traveling through life reaching out as an engaged participatory sense-maker. We were drawn together to make sense of co-creation, collaboration, and community building, both in our writings together and in our other convening projects together.
As I recall all your contributions to the larger drifts of film history, digital theory, and media democracy, I am still amazed by how fiercely you championed the media making of communities in small spaces, the media of the unresolved, and the local.
I know you understood that media built in small spaces could mean freedom – to imagine, experiment, and enact new connections with confidence and courage. And you wanted the world to know that this art practice had major significance far from the centers of corporate entertainment.
A sparkler. A synthesizer. An enactivist. Patty Zimmermann lives on in my heart, encouraging me always to reach out, make stuff with others, and always move from “me-to-we.”
Helen De Michiel, Co-authored OPEN SPACE NEW MEDIA DOCUMENTARY: A TOOLKIT FOR THEORY AND PRACTICE (2018) and several other articles and dossiers on documentary and co-creation with Patty Zimmermann.
A tribute to Patty Zimmermann, my beloved friend and mentor.
I can hear Patty’s voice right now and I bet you can too: that warm emphasis and enthusiastic twang, the infectious sound of her smile. We know Patty was brilliant and always one of the first to notice changes in our field; for example, giving close attention to every new iteration of digital media and bringing to it the most politically astute analysis; noticing subtle currents in transnational independent cinema; embracing environmentalism early; famously, taking amateur movies seriously as archival cinema.
But Patty was at ease in her brilliance. She had not a shred of snobbism or elitism or mean-spiritedness, and that generosity surrounded her with loving, trusting, and grateful friends. When Patty became your friend you had a friend for life. A solid ally, constant in her support; generous, honest, stalwart, trustworthy, and fun. Patty was one of the very first people who took me seriously as an intellectual when I was a green young graduate student. She invited me to give a talk at Ithaca College in 2000, and she and Stewart (as warm and kind as she) put me up in their beautiful home in the woods and fed me a delicious meal. Later, Patty was like a secret fifth member of my doctoral committee, giving me the best advice and consistent feedback.
Patty was a fighter, in a spirit not of judgement but of love: she fought not against what’s judged to be bad but for what is and generative and live-giving. I am so grateful for her life advice and her vigorous sympathy. Like the time I was devastated from a broken heart, Patty and Stewart took me in and fed me and took care of me and she denounced the heartbreaker in no uncertain terms.
Patty taught me how the Flaherty works, taking me under her wing from the first time I attended the seminar in 1991. She explained Frances Flaherty’s principle of non-preconception and was a model of Flaherty’s ideal attentive, open-minded audience member. When I railed against Flaherty attendees’ seeming mania for correct representation, Patty wisely and compassionately diagnosed their response as a symptom of economic precarity. And when I programmed the Flaherty myself, she encouraged me to plan carefully and then (with that gorgeous, infectious big smile), at the Flaherty itself, to let go control, stay in the background, remain as calm as a Buddhist monk, and allow events to unfold. It’s thanks to Patty that I stayed so calm while bewildered, angry audiences regarding my programming choices, let the storm wash over me, and enjoyed the sunny morning at the end of the week when things fell into place in a way I could not have foretold. “Trust the process,” Patty said.
Patty was no ascetic. She filled her life and ours with beauty and music and delicious food and sensuous pleasures. When times were rough, she embraced deep enjoyment. Patty always advised me to rise above. But to rise above the problems that dog you, you have to be well grounded, know yourself, and be kind to yourself. It takes a big soul. So as I grieve along with so many others, I will gratefully try to become ever more Patty-like, and so to keep her alive in my heart and my life and those of others.
Laura U. Marks, 2015 Seminar Programmer
Dear Patty,
Where are you? How could you have left us? You went away so quickly! You were such an important, vital, energetic, confusing, academic, literate, articulate, scholarly, and forceful voice of film knowledge in our Flaherty discussions. You would stand up and we would say, “Oh boy, here she goes…” but all of us would be riveted by the pace and complexity of the delivery and analysis of the films we had just seen. Or the intractable weaving of themes as we moved through the week—but it was like opening a piñata. It inspired argument and counter-argument, got blood boiling, people thinking, or just sitting in a daze! It was quintessential Flaherty… essential Flaherty! I think we need you now more than ever! And the wonderful contribution of the books, Flash Flaherty and the earlier one with Scott. I even saw them at the book tables in Bologna! Thank you so much for your energy and insights over all these wonderful years of our dear Flaherty Film Seminar. You will be sorely missed!
Love, Linda Lilienfeld
Unbounded energy and piercing insight
Patty Zimmermann worked intensely with Scott MacDonald on Flash Flaherty: Tales from a Film Seminar (2021). Like so many others, I knew Patty in a public context in the different film environments where she found community and meaning. I witnessed her unbounded energy and piercing insight. For this memorial recognition, I write about the time in which she was particularly supportive of me when I was dealing with an issue with my text in the Flaherty book.
As we all know, the Seminar brings out emotions and reflections, but hindsight offers us deep and complex ways to think about the work we’ve made, and its effects on others. I was invited to present my film Sermons and Sacred Pictures: the Life and Work of Rev. L.O. Taylor at the Flaherty in 1989. Thirty years later, Patty asked me to revisit the experience for the book. Another Seminar participant wrote about her own memories of the screening. She shared her perspective in her piercing and candid reflection. When I read it, I felt very sad… breathless. But it also gave me the ability to witness her distinct perspective. Patty assisted both of us in working through our interpretations of our distinct memories. She also encouraged us to connect directly as artists, which we did. Here is what Patty wrote to me:
“Tell me more about why you are breathless? I think [the writer] shifts the issue away from you a bit? Don’t feel constrained about writing a comment. My suggestion would be to do it as a question or an invitation to more dialogue? Let me know. When we read (the other text), Scott and I realized we needed to have you in this book. Let me know your thoughts. So sorry you found it so intense but tell me more. Maybe something to tap into for your piece?”
Patty pushed me to be forthright and vulnerable in my writing. She wanted Flash Flaherty to articulate the ways that we as makers connect to our work and the impact it can have on others.
Her imprint on me will remain, as it will for those who knew her intimately and those who simply benefited from her profound impact in our field, in the US and beyond.
Lynne Sachs
A brilliant scholar, a force for goodness, and an unforgettable person
I am shocked to learn of the death of Patricia R. Zimmermann, and will miss her always. She was a brilliant scholar, a force for goodness, and an unforgettable person. It was awesome to witness her contributions to the Flaherty Film Seminar. Year after year, during post-screening discussions, she spoke about the meaning of films with clarity and passion, helping to make the Seminar a riveting and extraordinary experience. As an innovative member of the Board of Trustees, 2005-2010, she helped the organization overcome major obstacles and thrive. With co-author Scott MacDonald, she wrote two books about the Seminar: The Flaherty: Decades in the Cause of Independent Cinema (2017) and Flash Flaherty: Tales from a Film Seminar (2021). These remarkable books have been acquired by more than 1,300 universities and public libraries in Switzerland, Sweden, Germany, Netherlands, France, Spain, United Kingdom, Australia, Singapore, China, Taiwan, Botswana, United Arab Emirates, Cyprus, Turkey, Greece, New Zealand, Mexico, Brazil, United States, and Canada. As a result, Patty’s creativity and bold intellect will continue to enrich peoples’ lives in every region of the world.
Steven Montgomery, Flaherty Board of Trustees, 2004-2010
On Sunday, September 17 at 8:30 am, there will be a Mass offered for Patty at Holy Cross Church on West 42nd Street in New York. As lector, it will be a privilege to lead the congregation in a prayer for Patty. May she rest in peace.
Miss New York, and Miss Everywhere Else
Patty was loved by so many people, including me. And aside from being so thoughtful and rigorous as a scholar, writer, programmer and teacher, she was also a lot of fun. One of my favorite times with her was at the Virginia Film Festival in 2007. We were at a party and she noticed that Miss Virginia was there and said we just *had* to get a picture with her. So we did.
As far as I was concerned, Patty was Miss New York, and Miss Everywhere Else that she went in her storied career. What a wonderful woman; what a loss.
Wanting to Get Closer: Traveling through History with a Bolex MoMA Magazine By Lynne Sachs, Sofia Gallisá Muriente, and Sophie Cavoulacos August 9, 2023 https://www.moma.org/magazine/articles/936
Wanting to Get Closer: Traveling through History with a Bolex
Two filmmakers explore the connections between their work decades apart in Vietnam and Puerto Rico.
Lynne Sachs and Sofia Gallisá Muriente first met in the classroom over a decade and a half ago, and have been collaborators and interlocutors ever since. Sachs’s Which Way Is East: Notebooks from Vietnam (1992) was recently restored by MoMA, and Gallisá Muriente’s Celaje (Cloudscape) (2020) recently entered the Museum’s collection. As part of our summer of screenings drawn from the collection, they reflect on the pairing of their films kicking off the series Here and There: Journeying through Film on August 16 with a special screening in MoMA’s Sculpture Garden. —Sophie Cavoulacos, Associate Curator, Department of Film
Sofia Gallisá Muriente: It’s such a beautiful opportunity to think of these two films in relation to each other. It’s not a combination I would have foreseen but it is obvious to me now that there are so many connections.
Lynne Sachs: I’ll start with the idea that these are both 16mm films, and that goes beyond the look of them. It has to do with the way that our bodies engage with the camera, a sensibility. I will say as a backdrop to making Which Way Is East, which I shot in 1992 in Vietnam, that video was fully available. It was extremely challenging to have access to Vietnam as an American. At that time the country had really just opened up. Having a video camera would have given me so much more time to explore with the camera running. Yet there was something about taking my Bolex camera, knowing that I would have to slow down, have a relationship with the light, record sound separately so my listening had to be really sharp. My travel load was much heavier carrying all that film in my backpack. It shifted the trip to be about observation and not about acquisition.
Which Way Is East: Notebooks from Vietnam. 1994. USA. Directed by Lynne Sachs in collaboration with Dana Sachs
SGM: I’m thinking back on how I came to begin what is now Celaje (Cloudscape), which I started as my thesis project.
LS: In the film you say, “I wanted to make a film about my grandmother and the distance between her memories and my reality.”
SGM: Yeah, I had all these letters written by my grandmother, and I was filming with her in spaces that had to do with her life story. But the present reality of those places was so distant from the memories that she had that I felt like the film was a negotiation between her stories and my way of seeing her in those spaces. Time went on and I kept being interested in filming her and the ways in which I saw her life story as emblematic of, or embodying in some way, the larger narratives of Puerto Rico’s history.
I have a very strong memory of watching Which Way Is East in your class, and having that be part of finding my own voice, how I felt I could be making films. But obviously the big difference between our films is that I’m traveling through my own country and you’re traveling through Vietnam. You’re in Vietnam looking for how you are implicated in that history, for your country’s implication in that place. I love that line in the beginning, where you say, “My mind is full of war, and my eyes are on a scavenger hunt for leftovers.”
Celaje (Cloudscape). 2020. Puetro Rico. Directed by Sofía Gallisá Muriente
LS: In both of our films there are ghosts. For my generation, it’s the ghosts and the tragedy of war—what people from the United States called the Vietnam War, and what people in Vietnam call the American War—and the stories that were left untold. One thing I learned from making Which Way Is East is how important it is to become aware of what you’ve been taught about that place, the narratives that have insisted that we imagine it a certain way.
I tried to hearken back to lying on a couch and looking at the Vietnam War through black-and-white images, Walter Cronkite on the evening news, and whatever he said came with authority, and the images also came with authority.
SGM: That’s the very first line of the film, about how you would lie on the living room couch and watch the news upside down. It’s such an intimate, relatable moment. And at the same time, you’re already hinting at the fact that you would become a filmmaker, and that part of what you do in the world is to turn things on their side, or look at things from a different angle in order to gain some other understanding of them.
I had this footage that I had shot for the thesis film and abandoned. But then I started making a film in 2019 that for me was about the trace of all of these disasters that had happened. Around the moment when Hurricane Maria was happening, the earthquakes were happening, the protests were happening, the debt crisis was happening. One thing that I was clear about was that I didn’t feel compelled or interested in going out with a high-definition digital camera to make beautiful images of what was destroyed, or people suffering. I had just recently been gifted the Super 8 camera, and it was so light and automatic and easy.
But time passed, and you realize how quickly nature erases the trace of certain things. In the tropics especially, everything is always rotting, vegetation is always taking over. I wanted to make a film about the accumulation of traces of all of these different political processes and natural disasters.
Celaje
LS: Right smack dab in the middle of Celaje you say, “I heard someone say there is no paradise without debt.”
SGM: I heard someone say that at a bar! It’s a take on a famous line from a salsa song that says without salsa there’s no paradise.
LS: And you have this shot down the main highway of San Juan leading to where all the big hotels are, but you don’t concede that, you won’t give in to those beautiful beaches.
SGM: Paradise is a construct built for tourism, right? And for a tourist gaze that is very superficial, you could almost switch one place for another as long as it’s a beautiful beach with palm trees. I think our films are also about challenging that superficial view and learning to see deeper. In your film, as a tourist in Vietnam, and even in my film, I’m going to film in places outside of San Juan that for the most part I have only experienced from a car. There are areas of the country where I think, I’ve never gotten out of the car in this town or in this neighborhood. This is a landscape that I’ve only seen from a highway, and what does it mean to slow down and actually get out of the car and get closer to things?
There’s a moment in the film where I’m in the salt fields in Cabo Rojo, with this pink water and mountains of salt. I almost didn’t include it in the film, because that’s such a well-known image in Puerto Rico. A very photographed, very visited place. But what blew me away was that someone explained to me that the Fish and Wildlife Service has to make sure that that salt field is commercially exploited, because even though it’s a natural reserve, they need to produce salt in order to sustain the ecosystem. The mineral extraction has been happening for centuries, for so long that the ecosystem depends on it.
And that just immediately changes how you look at that place. And since the film came out, because of erosion and earthquakes, that very site has been flooded with water and the salt farming is not happening as it should. We capture something with our cameras, and we have no idea how quickly it will change and how quickly that image will become a document of a past that we can no longer witness in person.
Which Way Is East: Notebooks from Vietnam
LS: Another way you work through that idea of impermanence is how you embrace the chemistry of filmmaking, not just to do it, to show off the sprockets. I felt that in your film you were dealing with the materiality of the medium. It is not digital, it will decay. It is affected by time, as the earth is, as the buildings in Puerto Rico have been. You know that there is a parallel between the material that you used and the land and the culture that you are exploring. The fragility of both what’s in front of the camera and what’s in the camera was very profound.
SGM: When Hurricane Maria happened I was really struggling in how I wanted to respond in my practice to what was happening. I felt like I had to reconsider how I wanted to relate to image making. I had all this film in my freezer, film I hadn’t shot and been wanting to work with for a long time, and suddenly it was decaying. Everything was decaying. Everything had been flooded. There was no power for a long time. It smelled like humidity everywhere. At the time I didn’t have a Bolex, so I couldn’t really work with the film that was rotting in my freezer, but I’d gotten deeply interested in biodeterioration and started playing with that. I started reading a lot about salt and collected salt from the fields we were talking about earlier in order to put my film in it. And the images of my grandmother on the beach that we shot together, I later buried those in her backyard. That ended up becoming a series of works of which Celaje is the final part. I was responding to a moment where climate was clearly conditioning memory and the survival of material evidence of history. Notions about conservation and preservation and archives that I had were really futile in the context of the tropics.
But then, at the same time, I was dealing with the death of my grandmother, of my father, sitting with grief and finding ways of processing: to be thinking about the country at the same time that I’m thinking about my family was a kind of affective approach to politics.
Celaje
LS: We share this idea that making art is not completely separate from our lives—an osmosis of life into what could be a very hermetic space of filmmaking. I think that Sofia and I try to use the space of filmmaking to guide our lives.
In 1992, my sister Dana started living in Hanoi. The war had ended in 1975, but Americans had only recently been able to travel and live there. As a writer, she decided to immerse herself in the place so that she could describe the country as it was changing. She taught English, but also learned to speak Vietnamese. That same year, I traveled to Vietnam to visit her. I brought my Bolex 16mm camera, a backpack full of film, and an audio cassette recorder. We began our collaboration.
One of the things that happened when we were making Which Way Is East was that I realized that Dana and I see the world very differently. At first, that became kind of an overwhelming obstacle. She comes out of a storytelling background, while I come out of poetry and experimental filmmaking. That friction taught us something about our sensibilities. There’s a scene in Which Way Is East where I look up, and I see the light coming through this very large coil of incense hanging from a ceiling. We were inside a crowded temple and while I was filming I insisted that we wait for a long time until the light was just right. It was driving Dana crazy. She told me that for many years the government had discouraged the practice of religion and had recently loosened up. Now Vietnamese were returning to places of worship in great numbers. We were witnessing that change right there in the crowded temple. So, yes, you can look at the image and be awed by its beauty. But the beauty also speaks to something that’s been lost, and reveals how politics affect daily life in this very intimate way. An image that is aesthetically so-called “powerful” has its limitations unless there’s another layer underneath that helps you understand it in a deeper way.
After we shot the film, I came back to San Francisco. We didn’t have the Internet. Letters would take weeks and weeks if they arrived at all. But we were trying to write the voiceover sections at the same time, so she would write something, and then she would give it to a flight attendant who happened to be coming across the Pacific, and then they would give it to someone in a library, and then I would go pick it up. The world still felt really vast at that time.
Celaje
SGM: I also do love that moment where you’re observing as a tourist but some people are also welcoming your gaze. It’s interesting how that offsets this constant wanting to speak about war that you have. What is there for you to encounter? I kept thinking about how I love all of these people that look straight into the lens and are smiling or posing. I think about the right to beauty that people in complicated contexts or who have been through experiences of violence have, because when we were talking earlier about this notion of paradise or the tourist gaze, I always wrestle with that a little bit. Yes, beauty needs to be complicated but at the same time, Puerto Ricans are very proud to live in a beautiful place, and we also love going to beautiful beaches and taking that photograph that is then used by the tourism department to sell the island. How do you hold both thoughts at the same time? How do you resist or complicate beauty while also claiming it as a value that you can also treasure, in a way, about the place where you are?
You’re constantly looking from inside to outside, looking from a balcony, looking through a window, looking from darkness, through a silhouette. In your framing, there’s this constant recognition in the film that you’re outside, but that you’re interested, that you’re curious, that you’re wanting to get closer.
la GALERIE IMAGINAIRE, I/WE/1 (Invitation) Initiated in Brussels, in 2015 by Sébastien Delire upon an invitation from artist Nico Dockx. Contact:sebastien@lagalerieimaginaire.info Phone: +34 692 935 715 Location: Southern Spain
la GALERIE IMAGINAIRE is seeking a museum or institution to house its archives permanently, preserving them as seeds for future generations.
For further details, please feel free to get in touch.
IMAGINE (Art in time of pandemic) 2020 – Ongoing Started during the pandemic in Ecuador, artists are invited to submit an audio file including the word ‘imagine’. Audio recordings: https://www.lagalerieimaginaire.info/IMAGINE.html
01 – Elena Bajo 02 – Matthieu Laurette 03 – Oliver Ressler 04 – David Horvitz 05 – Nico Dockx 06 – Alexandra Cuesta 07 – Davide Bertocchi 08 – Andrea Franco 09 – Ryan Gander 10 – Alec Soth 11 – Yann Sérandour 12 – Suwan Laimanee 13 – Henrik Plenje Jakobsen 14 – Anaïs Chabeur 15 – Carsten Nicolai 16 – Endre Tôt 17 – Luca Vitone 18 – gerlach en koop 19 – Tercerunquinto 20 – Adrien Missika 21 – Quynh Lam 22 – Julien Bismuth 23 – Dennis Tyfus & his imaginary friends 24 – Pedro Torres 25 – Warren Neidich 26 – Vivienne Griffin 27 – Vlaktka Horvat 28 – Viriya Chotpanyavisut 29 – Iñaki Bonillas 30 – Yue Yuan 31 – Ian Waelder 32 – Lynne Sachs
About
In 2010, in collaboration with Grégory Thirion, the D+T Project Gallery opened its doors in Brussels, where I was responsible for artistic selection and exhibition organization. Just a month after its inauguration with artist Gianni Motti, a significant moment occurred when artist Nico Dockx, invited by myself, entered the gallery with his skateboard in hand, marking the beginning of an exceptional journey. This pivotal encounter took place at 4 Rue Bosquet in Saint-Gilles. During our conversation, I shared my admiration for his artistic work and vision, thus initiating a genuine artistic connection. Animated by our exchange, Nico Dockx spontaneously proposed to take the reins of the gallery for a year. Enthusiastic about the idea, even though I was prepared to agree, I encountered resistance from my associate, leading to the shelving of this proposal. Nonetheless, my connection with Nico Dockx endured.
In 2012, due to disagreements with my associate regarding the direction and radicalism of the gallery, I made the decision to leave the D+T Project Gallery and open the Delire Gallery, located near the Xavier Hufkens gallery at the Rivoli Building. Success quickly smiled upon this new project, yet a sense of stagnation began to envelop me. My in-depth exchanges with artists like Gianni Motti, especially Nico Dockx, took a new turn, and on January 23, 2015, I received a letter that would forever change my life. This letter proposed that I close the doors of the Delire Gallery and embark on new artistic explorations through an imaginary gallery. For him, my ideas could flourish without the need for walls… I quickly grasped the letter’s significance. I embraced the artist’s proposal and made the radical choice to abandon my gallery, my home, family, friends, and the art world. In an instant, I let go of everything. I contacted art critic Claude Lorent and invited him to join me, along with Nico Dockx, at the bar “La Fleur en Papier Doré”. On February 27, 2015, Claude Lorent officially announced the opening of la GALERIE IMAGINAIRE through the columns of the press.
This was followed by an almost monastic retreat from the art world, where I significantly reduced my interactions and spent extended periods alone, immersing myself in meditation within a Sivananda ashram. This ashram provided a space for spiritual practice and teachings, and also during the satsangs, for the exploration of the intersection between science and consciousness.
During my stay in the sacred mountains of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, Colombia, I gained a profound understanding of the wisdom held by the Kogi tribe, renowned for their deep spiritual connection with the natural world, as well as through my encounter with an American anthropologist who introduced me to the world of the Kogis. This unique convergence of spiritual and scientific contemplation, coupled with the profound reverence for nature among the Kogis, has further shaped my personal vision and the essence of la GALERIE IMAGINAIRE itself.
Over an extended period, I undertook a deeply introspective journey that led me to one of the oldest cities in the world: Varanasi, the city of Shiva. Nestled along the banks of the Ganges, this sacred city emitted a unique aura, steeped in ancient spirituality and a profound connection with the divine. Each day, I bore witness to timeless rituals where the bodies of the departed were cremated on the ghats, the steps descending to the sacred river. This scene, both striking and revealing, immersed me in the impermanence of life, gradually dissolving the veils that often obscure our perception of the world.
Varanasi offered me a space to meditate on the fragility and transience of existence, prompting me to challenge my own notions of reality. The timeless rhythms of life and death that unfolded daily along the Ganges’ shores acted as a reflective mirror, casting back to me the very essence of our humanity.
It was during this time, at the outset with the reception of the letter, that I came to a profound realization: this was a journey with no plans to return, not just from my physical location but also from the life I had known in Belgium. The call of exploration and the embrace of the unknown had become the guiding forces of my life. I had let go of everything, understanding that my path forward was an open-ended odyssey of creativity, spirituality, and personal growth. This understanding was further confirmed during my time in India: this was a journey with no plans to return.
The months spent in this sacred city profoundly influenced my vision. They broadened my horizons, leading me toward a deeper understanding of impermanence and the constant transformation that underlies all forms of creation. My immersion in Varanasi was a pivotal experience, a journey into the heart of millennia-old wisdom, and an essential pillar in the construction of la GALERIE IMAGINAIRE and its unique philosophy.
Over the years, la GALERIE IMAGINAIRE gradually took shape, flourishing day by day, evolving from an initially blank web page into an archive. Years of wandering ensued, with just a backpack, a mobile desk, and endeavors that could emerge anywhere and at any time. Over time, a group of artists, a family, joined this endeavor, contributing to its shaping. By February 2025, the initiative will already be celebrating its ten years, with Nico Dockx transforming these archives into a catalog. My son, Umi, born in Ecuador as a result of this adventure, will then be five and a half years old. Umi and I currently reside in the southern region of Spain, where we continue to explore new horizons and embrace the unfolding journey ahead.
AAFF’s Barbara Hammer Feminist Film Award Receives Full Funding
July 28, 2023
AAFF is thrilled to announce that the Barbara Hammer Feminist Film Award is now fully endowed, ensuring that this $500 award will continue to be presented every year for the film that best conveys Hammer’s passion for celebrating and examining the experiences of women.
Barbara Hammer was a filmmaker with a profound commitment to expressing a feminist point-of-view in her work. In 2020, filmmaker Lynne Sachs received the Grand Prize at the International Short Film Festival Oberhausen for a film she made with and for Hammer. With funds from the prize, Lynne worked with the Ann Arbor Film Festival to create this award in honor of Hammer who died in 2019. Sachs’ contribution was followed by those of other individuals, and now with a recent contribution from Barbara Twist, Film Festival Alliance Director, matched by Florrie Burke, Hammer’s partner, the Barbara Hammer Feminist Film Award has reached full funding.
Barbara Hammer (right) with Donald Harrison at the 50th AAFF
Festival Director Leslie Raymond said that AAFF is “positively thrilled to make final and official the fully endowed Barbara Hammer Feminist Film Award at the Ann Arbor Film Festival, and honor her incredible contribution to film art through our festival, in perpetuity.”
Barbara Twist stated that she is “honored to be able to support [Hammer’s] work through this award. [Twist] first encountered Barbara’s work in March 2010 as an undergraduate at the University of Michigan where she screened A Horse is Not A Metaphor…. Barbara’s candor and generosity about filmmaking and art making was like a shot in the arm, a light bulb for me about the relationships between art and self.” Learning of Twist’s matching contribution, Burke said that she is “thrilled by this award” and is “happy to report that Barbara’s work is currently being shown in many venues around the world. This is so gratifying to me.”
In March of this year, jurors Amir George, Christine Panushka, and Koyo Yamashita selected Jennifer Reeve’s Pigment-Dispersion Syndrome as the recipient of the 61st AAFF Barbara Hammer Feminist Film Award, which is open to filmmakers of any gender. The recipient of the first award at the 60th AAFF in 2022 was Maryam Tafakory for the film Irani Bag.
The funders of the Barbara Hammer Feminist Film Award endowment are Lynne Sachs, the Hammer Estate, Barbara Twist, Amy Moore, Cauleen Smith, Todd Berliner, Howard Besser, Jeanne Finley Montgomery, Jennifer Reeves, Ira Sachs, Deborah Stratman, Stephen Anker, Tomonari Nishikawa, and Byrdie O’Connor.
For a complete list of all of our awards, please visit our Awards page.
The 62nd Ann Arbor Film Festival will take place in person and online March 26-31, 2024 with the online festival continuing through April 7.
Experimental filmmaker Lynne Sachs donates films to Hunter College Libraries
Feminist, artist, experimental documentary filmmaker, and poet Lynne Sachs’ donation of DVDs to Hunter College Libraries completes the Libraries’ collection of Sachs’ films on DVD. The films are available for CUNY students, staff, and faculty to borrow. Scroll down to see the list.
I asked Lynne about her teaching experience at Hunter College. Here is her reply:
“I started at Hunter in September 2001, and of course you know what happened that month. My relationship to the school has been consistent and meaningful for all of these years. In that first semester, I witnessed the way that the school became a real home and place of solace for the students, especially the international ones. Every class was like a therapy session, blending the emotional and intellectual into a single impactful experience (or at least that’s how it is in my memory). I was also at Hunter for the very first conversations around their IMA Grad program which has turned into a deeply respected and supportive community.”
Lynne taught the follwing classes:
Graduate courses in the Integrated Media Arts MFA program: The Accident that Pricks: Family and Photography Day Residue: Hybrid Media and Performance Film as a Collaborative Art Frames and Stanzas: Film and Poetry Non Fiction Graduate Seminar
Undergraduate Courses: Introduction to Film and Media Developing the Documentary Sound for Film and Video Film 1
“What I do in the world when I’m in the act of shooting film is ask myself how and if I can work in concert with something that exists in reality.” – From an interview with the poet Paulo Javier in Bomb Magazine, March 2014.
Lynne Sachs’ films have been featured in a number of retrospectives, including one at The Museum of Moving Image, Lynne Sachs: Between Thought and Expression, organized by assistant curator Edo Choi. In a review of the retrospective, Kat Sachs (no relation), highlights themes of Sachs’ work and the personal and experimental approach the filmmaker takes to communicate through the medium of film.
“A Reality Between Words and Images: Films by Lynne Sachs,” a program screening in October, 2022 at e-flux Screening Room featured six of the filmmaker’s works. In a review of the program on Screenslate.com, the author discusses the filmmaker’s exploration of the subjects.
A retrospective of Lynne Sachs’ work was included in the Ghosts and Apparitions section of the virtual Sheffield Doc/Fest in 2020. Reviews of the retrospective appeared on Hyperallergic and ubiquarian. In an interview in Modern Times Review, the filmmaker discusses her films in the Sheffiled Doc/Fest. Two of the films in the Festival, The Washing Society (co-directed with playwright Lizzie Oleskar) and Your Day is My Night, investigate the experiences of immigrants working in service jobs, a timely subject during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic.
A two-part interview with the experimental filmmaker is available on A Masters Edition episode of Docs in Orbit. “In part one of the conversation, Lynne Sachs discusses how feminist film theory has shaped her work and her approach to experimental filmmaking. We also discuss her collaborative process in her films, including her short documentary film A MONTH OF SINGLE FRAMES (for Barbara Hammer). Part two discusses her latest feature-length documentary film, FILM ABOUT A FATHER WHO (2020).”
Films by Lynne Sachs available at Hunter College Libraries
Film about a father who Sachs, Lynne, film director, director of photography, narrator, on-screen participant.; Sachs, Ira, Sr., interviewee, on-screen participant.; Sachs, Ira, cinematographer, on-screen participant.; Shapass, Rebecca, editor of moving image work.; Vitiello, Stephen, composer (expression); Allen, Kevin T., remix artist.; Cinema Guild, publisher. 2021?
The washing society Olesker, Lizzie, filmmaker.; Sachs, Lynne, filmmaker.; Hanley, Sean (Film producer), director of photography.; Katz, Amanda, editor of moving image work.; Vitiello, Stephen, composer (expression); Holloway, Jasmine, actor.; Santa, Veraalba, actor.; Ching, Valdes-Aran, actor.; Torn, Tony, actor.; Canyon Cinema Foundation (Firm), film distributor. 2019
Tip of my tongue Katz, Amanda.; Sachs, Lynne, film director, author, participant.; Cinema Guild, film distributor. 2018
Your day is my night= 你的白天是我的黑夜 / Argot Pictures ; a film by Lynne Sachs ; produced by Lynne Sachs and Sean Hanley ; directed by Lynne Sachs. ; Your day is my night = Ni de bai tian shi wo de hei ye Argot Pictures (Firm), film production company.; Cinema Guild, publisher.; Sachs, Lynne, film director, film producer, screenwriter.; Robles, Rojo, screenwriter.; Hanley, Seán, film producer, editor of moving image work, director of photography.; Cao, Yi Chan, performer, interviewee (expression); Chan, Linda, performer, interviewee (expression); Che, Chung Qing, performer, interviewee (expression); Ho, Ellen, performer, interviewee (expression); Huang, Yun Xiu, performer, interviewee (expression); Lee, Sheut Hing, performer, interviewee (expression); Santa, Veraalba, performer, interviewee (expression); Tsui, Kam Yin, performer, interviewee (expression); Mass, Ethan, editor of moving image work.; Vitiello, Stephen, composer (expression) 2013
Con viento en el pelo = Wind in our hair Sachs, Lynne.; Gallisá, Sofía.; Molina, Juana.; Peroni, Lena.; Peroni, Chiara.; Street-Sachs, Maya.; Street-Sachs, Noa.; Cortázar, Julio. 2011
The last happy day : with 4 short films Sachs, Lynne. film director.; Mass, Ethan, director of photography.; Lenard, Hansgerd. interviewee (expression); Lenard, Andrietta. interviewee (expression); Gerendas, Israel John. actor; Moss, Donald. actor; Fagen, Lucas. actor; Reade, Isabel. actor; Street-Sachs, Maya. actor; Street-Sachs, Noa. actor 2011
