Film About A Father Who & Lynne Sachs Masterclass at MajorDocs MajorDocs September 1, 2022 Festival dates: October 4-8, 2022 https://majordocs.org/festival/
PHILOSOPHY
THE FIRST SLOW FILM FESTIVAL
MajorDocs is
the international creativedocumentary film festival in Mallorca;
a space to discover other realities and other perspectives through carefully
selected creative documentaries.
In
a time defined by the sheer excess of content, MajorDocs proposes a slow
experience: a journey through eight films, each with a deep author’s gaze,
that encourage us to stop, step away from our daily lives and connect with not
just the other, but also with our own sensibility.
Five
days to reflect, ask and discuss each film with its author in
an intimate and close setting, without lecterns or pedestals. Each screening
will be a unique event without counterprogramming since it is our goal to take
care of each film and each author.
During
the festival, renowned filmmakers and new talents will share their experiences
with the public. An event that will stimulate the critical eye through
screenings and talks, as well as workshops and discussions on documentary
cinema.
An
unmissable date for anyone who enjoys looking without limits, discovering the
unknown and stirring their heart.
MANIFESTO
MajorDocs
goes out and looks for a creative documentary…
Hybrid, innovative, transgressive, adventurous.
Able to transcend the present and keep questioning ourselves in the future.
Useless – in which art prevails over functionality.
That digs deeply into the ins and outs of a complex world without staying on the surface.
That leaves a mark on the audience and is able to short-circuit the passive spectator.
In which the author’s gaze prevails over the facts.
Able to transcend, if the film demands for it, the limits of the classic narrative.
Over
a period of 35 years, filmmaker Lynne Sachs shot 8 and 16mm film, videotape and
digital images of her father, Ira Sachs Sr., a bon vivant, seductive, extravagant
and pioneering businessman. Film About a Father Who is her
attempt to understand the web that connects a child to her parent and her
siblings.
October 5, 2022 / 10:00 – 11:30 Fundació Sa Nostra
Lynne Sachs will explore the intricate relationship between
personal observations and broader historical experiences. Using examples from
the essay films, experimental documentaries, and performances she has produced
over the last three decades, she will guide her workshop participants on a
journey investigating the connection between the body, the camera, and the
materiality of film itself.
* Session in English.
Lynne Sachs (Memphis, Tennessee, 1961) is a filmmaker and poet living in Brooklyn, New York. Her work explores the intricate relationship between personal observations and broader historical experiences by weaving together text, collage, painting, politics and layered sound design. Strongly committed to a feminist dialogue between cinematic theory and practice, she searches for a rigorous play between image and sound, pushing the visual and aural textures in her work with every new project. Her moving image work ranges from short experimental films, to essay films to hybrid live performances. Lynne has made 37 films, including features and shorts, which have screened, won awards or been included in retrospectives at New York Film Festival, Museum of Modern Art, Sundance, Oberhausen, Viennale, Sheffield Doc/Fest, BAFICI, RIDM Montréal, Vancouver Film Festival, Doclisboa, Havana IFF, and China Women’s Film Festival. In 2014, she received the Guggenheim Fellowship in the Creative Arts.
JURY & AWARD WINNERS
Jury Andrés Duque, Ainhoa Andraka, and Lynne Sachs
It
may seem old hat to say an experimental filmmaker’s career defies easy
classification, but in the case of Lynne Sachs, it’s necessary. Sachs has
produced over 40 films in as many years, as well as web projects, multimedia,
and live performances. Additionally, she has written original fiction and
poetry which appears in her films. Sachs has worked closely with filmmakers
like Craig Baldwin, Bruce Conner, Barbara Hammer, Chris Marker, Gunvor Nelson,
Carolee Schneemann, and Trinh T. Min-ha. Based in Brooklyn, New York, Sachs’
recent work includes five films with sound artist Stephen Vitiello, a
collection of site-specific live performances featuring two years of research
with NYC laundry workers, and a poetry collection, Year by Year Poems,
published in 2019 by Tender Buttons Press.
However
wide ranging the works of Sachs may be, there are common themes and concerns.
Her films frequently expose intimate and private details—often with personal
memories—and explore the problem of translation, not only between one text and
another but between text and image as well. Her predilection for collage,
mixed- media, and hybridized form is intrinsic to the themes she explores,
which often traverse public and private experiences. There is an ever- present
connection to be found between the concept and the material, the form and the
content.
The
late 1980s and early 90s marks a period in Sachs’ career when her biggest
concern as a woman and an artist were the political and personal themes of
gender, the body, sexuality, and language. Like many of the “downtown”
avant-garde filmmakers working in NYC at this time, Sachs was inspired by
feminist literature, finding herself in a reading group with fellow filmmakers
such as Peggy Ahwesh and Lynn Kirby that engaged with the challenging ideas of
French authors
Luce
Irigery (Speculum of Other Woman) and Hélène Cixous (The Newly Born
Woman). In Sachs’ words, this was “some of the most powerful, eye-opening
literature I had ever experienced. For each of us, the discovery of the
expansive, rigorous and playful essays of [these authors] completely changed
our sense of language and the body.”
The
impact that this had on her perspective as a filmmaker can be directly sensed
in the narration in The House of Science: A Museum of False Facts (1991,
30 min., 16mm), not simply through an abstract, intellectual stance, but also
through a visceral, lived experience:
“Narration:
A speculum before me, I hold the mirror just inches away and learn to
look—sometimes shyly, occasionally detached, and now, more often than not,
bravely. I touch myself with knowledge. I trace a path across my chest,
searching for surprises I’d rather not find, knots in the fabric.
Male
voice from the movie: Look!!!
Narration:
Undressed, we read our bodies like a history. Scars, muscles, curves of the
spine. We look at ourselves from within, collect our own data, create our own
science, begin to define.”
It
is through the form of the film itself that Sachs seeks to define not just
women’s experience but her own personal experience of fragmentation she felt
throughout adolescence. Narration here is not an overdetermined explanation of
events, but one among many types of media ranging from home movies, staged
scenes, found footage, and even Sachs’ own body, as the film explores the
fragmented divide between what it names “the body of the body” and “the body of
the mind.” This split is not just between the body and the mind but between
what is felt and experienced in the body versus what is said and shown in
private and public spaces from the home to the museum to the clinic, unable to
be fully defined in any of them. The House of Science is a means of not
only detailing these stories but of reclaiming authorship of one’s own body.
In
A Biography of Lilith (1997, 35 min. 16mm), Sachs expounds on this
theme, this time exploring the broader cultural narratives that define the
experience of gender and identity. A mixture of narrative, collage, and memoir,
the film reimagines the creation myth of the first woman as a modern tale of
revenge following Lilith’s betrayal by Adam in Eden. Sachs juxtaposes high-art and
mundane images of Lilith: in haunting silver, in Medieval Hebrew protection
amulets, Baroque paintings, Mesopotamian ceramics, in Jean Seberg’s portrayal
of the crazed Lilith in a mental hospital, in the TV-sitcom “Cheers.”
Like
in the critical examination of sources in House of Science, here in
Lilith Sachs plays text against image in an attempt to rewrite these received
narratives: “I’m learning to read all over again, / a face, this time,
connected to a body. / At first, I feel your story from within– / Nose rubs
against belly, elbow prods groin. / Your silent cough becomes / a confusing dip
and bulge. / You speak and I struggle to translate.”
As
in many of her films, Sachs’ personal life and struggles are deeply connected
with the themes she presents. In this case, it was her first child that raised
the issue of the historical roots of our social definitions of motherhood for
her: “I was captivated by this story and all of the folklore that came with it,
especially since new mothers were historically told to be afraid of Lilith. She
was too willful and aware of her sexuality, which was exactly what attracted
me. I discovered Lilith when I was pregnant with my first daughter and finished
the film right after I gave birth to my second. My film Biography of Lilith is
a reflection of all the awe, fear, frustration, and excitement that was part of
this experience.”
An
artist who continues to inspire and innovate, Lynne Sachs’ films have been
presented at MoMA (Museum of Modern Art), Tate Modern, Image Forum Tokyo,
Wexner Center for the Arts, and festivals such as New York Film Festival, Oberhausen
International Short Film Festival, Punto de Vista, Sundance, Vancouver IFF,
Viennale and Doclisboa, among many others. In 2021, she received awards for her
lifetime achievements in experimental and documentary fields from the Edison Film Festival and Prismatic
Ground Film Festival. A Biography of Lilith received prizes at NY Film
Expo; Black Maria; New York Women’s Film Festival and The House of Science has
received numerous prizes at national and international film festivals and
venues. As part of the IU Underground Film Series at the IU Cinema, The
House of Science: A Museum of False Facts and Biography of Lilith will be
shown on Saturday, September 24 at 7pm. The event is free but ticketed—visit
cinema.indiana.edu to reserve tickets.
The Underground Film Series, curated by IU graduate students, explores the artistic and subversive possibilities of film through the unique vision of noncommercial or otherwise marginalized filmmakers. The series encompasses modes of filmmaking from full-length feature films to documentaries, to short films, to video art. The Underground Film Series works to bring unconventional films that are not easily accessible by other means to the attention of the IU and Bloomington communities. By screening avant-garde and experimental films, the Underground Film Series brings audiences to films in danger of being lost or forgotten.
IU Cinema September 24, 2022 1213 E. 7th Street, Bloomington, IN 47405 7:00 PM to 8:30 PM Free, but ticketed
Lynne Sachs explores the possibilities of a new creation
myth in A Biography of Lilith through a mixture of collage, mythology,
cabalistic parable, folklore, interviews, and memoir to provide a narrative of
the first woman and, perhaps, the first feminist. Situated on the margins of
both documentary and experimental narrative, the film spans Lilith’s betrayal
by Adam in Eden to her revenge story in the present-day, as a mother who gives
up her baby for adoption and works as a bar dancer. Featuring music by Pamela Z
and Charming Hostess. [35 mins; documentary; English]
______________________
The House of Science: A Museum of False Facts inspects and interrupts
representations of women in the house, the museum, and in science, bridging
between public, private, and idealized spaces to generate a new, dual image of
women, of “a ‘me’ that is two—the body of the body and the body of the mind.”
Through a lively assemblage of home movies, personal reminiscences, staged
scenes, found footage, and voice, Sachs’ feminized film form reclaims the body
divided among these spaces: “We look at ourselves from within, collect our own
data, create our own science, begin to define.” [30 mins; documentary; English]
The
18th edition of the Camden Intl. Film Festival, kicking off Sept. 15, will
feature a handful of award-contending documentaries fresh off showings at
Telluride and the Toronto film festivals. The Maine-based festival will unfold
in a hybrid format, with both in-person events over a three-day period
concluding Sept. 18, and online screenings available from Sept. 15 to Sept. 25
to audiences across North America.
This
year’s CIFF highlights include the U.S. premiere of Tamana Ayazi and Marcel
Mettelsiefen’s Netflix release “In Her Hands,” which follows one of
Afghanistan’s first female mayors during the months leading up to the Taliban
takeover the country in 2021; Chris Smith’s “Sr.,” centered on the life and
career of Robert Downey Sr. and his relationship to his son, Robert Downey Jr.;
and Steve James’ “A Compassionate Spy,” about Manhattan Project physicist,
Soviet spy and University of Chicago alum Theodore Hall. Each of the three
featured documentaries will have made its world premiere before CIFF, at
festivals in Toronto, Telluride and Venice, respectively.
The
fest will also offer a special sneak preview of Patricio Guzman’s “My Imaginary
Country,” which chronicles the recent protests in Chile in which millions took
to the street to demand democracy, dignity, and a new constitution.
It
is also teasing “a special secret screening” which will be the opening night
film, with little additional information besides the fact that it is a new film
by an Academy Award-winning director that will be in attendance.
Located
in a small, remote village on the coast of Maine that is two hours from a major
airport, CIFF
has become an Oscar campaign hotspot in recent years. Last year, Oscar
contending docus including “The Rescue” (Nat. Geo), “Procession” (Netflix),
“Ascension” (MTV Documentaries), and “Flee” (Neon) all screened at CIFF, where
the who’s who of the doc community — including Oscar winner Alex Gibney,
Cinetic Media founder and principal John Sloss and former Sundance Institute
CEO Keri Putnam – come to celebrate the fest.
“Much
of our slate this year will be brand new to audiences in the U.S. or North
America, and one of the greatest things we can do as a festival is to build
buzz and momentum for (films) here,” says Ben Fowlie, executive and artistic
director of the Points North Institute and founder of CIFF. “This means getting
filmmakers to Maine for their in-person screenings and connecting them with
attending industry and press.”
All
told, the 2022 fest will include 34 features and 40 short films from over 41
countries. Over 60% of the entire program is directed or co-directed by BIPOC
filmmakers; this is the sixth consecutive edition that the festival has reached
gender parity within the program.
“This
year’s program celebrates the diversity of voices and forms in documentary and
cinematic nonfiction,” says Fowlie. “This year’s program emphasizes the
international that represents the ‘I’ in CIFF and reminds us time and again of
the limitless creative potential and potency of the documentary form.”
Alex
Pritz’s “The Territory,” Reid Davenport’s “I Didn’t See You There,” and
Margaret Brown’s “Descendant” are among the Sundance 2022 docus screening at
CIFF. Jason Kohn’s “Nothing Lasts Forever,” which premiered at the Berlin Intl.
Film Festival in February and Jennifer Tiexiera and Camilla Hall’s “Subject,” which
debuted at Tribeca Festival in June, are also part of this year’s lineup.
“We
were drawn to films that were aesthetically and politically urgent, that
transformed us and that transported us somewhere new as viewers,” says Fowlie.
“We are always looking for films and filmmakers that are taking creative risks
and pushing the boundaries of traditional cinematic language with bold,
singular visions. For all of the selected work, it is important for us to have
an understanding of the film and filmmaker’s relationships with the
communities, contributors, and collaborators involved.”
A
program of Points North Institute, CIFF will also present two world premieres:
Mike Day’s “Cowboy Poets,” about American national cowboy poetry gatherings and
“Lily Frances Henderson’s “This Much We Know,” about the investigation of Las
Vegas teenager Levi Presley’s suicide, which leads to the story of a city with
the highest suicide rate in the country, and a nation scrambling to bury
decades of nuclear excess in a nearby mountain.
The
festival will present seven North American premieres, including “Foragers” by
Jumana Manna, recent Locarno premieres “It Is Night in America” by Ana Vaz and
Nikolaus Geyrhalter’s “Matter Out of Place,” as well as “Polaris” by Ainara
Vera, which premiered at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival.
In
honor of Diane
Weyermann, the industry veteran and former chief content officer at
Participant who died in October 2021, CIFF will screen several of the last
films she executive produced, including James’ “A Compassionate Spy,’ Geeta
Gandbhir and Sam Pollard’s “Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power” and
Margaret Brown’s “Descendant.”
For
the third consecutive year, CIFF will present its filmmaker solidarity fund.
The fund will provide $300 honoraria to all feature and short filmmaking teams
participating in the virtual festival. This year also marks the return of
in-person panels and masterclasses through the festival’s Points North Forum
program, which will feature conversations around the ethics of film financing,
an exploration of experimental filmmaking about the climate, a masterclass led
by veteran editor Maya Daisy Hawke and a special performance lecture on
sensorial cinema led by award-winning Iranian artist Maryam Tafakory.
The
forum program will conclude with a “town hall” gathering of the documentary
community following the screening of “Subject,” which explores the life-altering
experience of documenting one’s life on screen through the participants of five
acclaimed docus.
The
2022 festival will run concurrently with Points North Artist Programs, a
fellowship that supports early- and mid-career filmmakers. This year 21 projects
will be supported through four fellowship programs.
A complete list of the program’s features and short can be found below.
Features Program
“5 Dreamers and the Horse” “A Compassionate Spy” “After Sherman” “All Of Our Heartbeats Are Connected Through Exploding Stars” “All That Breathes” “Burial” “Cowboy Poets” “Crows Are White” “Day After… “ “Descendant” “Detours” “Dos Estaciones” “Foragers” “Geographies of Solitude” “Herbaria” “I Didn’t See You There” “In Her Hands” “It Is Night in America” “Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power” “Matter Out of Place” “My Imaginary Country” “Nothing Lasts Forever” “Polaris” “Rewind & Play” “SR.” “Subject” “Terranova” “The Afterlight” “The Territory” “This Much We Know” “What We Leave Behind”
Shorts Program
“Aralkum” “The Ark” “The Artists” “Belongings” “Bigger on the Inside” “Brave” “Call Me Jonathan” “Congress of Idling Persons” “Constant” “Dapaan” “Deerfoot of the Diamond” “Echolocation” “Everything Wrong and Nowhere to Go” “Fire in the Sea” “The Family Statement” “The Flagmakers” “Irani Bag” “La Frontiere” “Handbook” “Life Without Dreams” “Lungta” “Masks” “Moune O” “Murmurs of the Jungle” “My Courtyard” “Nazarbazi” “One Survives by Hiding” “Pacman” “Paradiso” “Seasick” “Solastalgia” “Somebody’s Hero” “The Sower of Stars” “Subtotals” “Swerve” “Unsinkable Ship” “Weckuwapok” “Weckuwapasihit” “When the LAPD Blows Up Your Neighborhood”
“He knows he will live in me after he is dead, I will carry him like a mother. I do not know if I will ever deliver.”
Sharon Olds, from the book of poems, The Father
There are so many possible entry points into Lynne Sachs’s A Film About a Father Who, an incredibly poignant and astute film sonnet on the director’s father, Ira Nathan Sachs, that over my repeated viewings I’ve begun to think of the film as a kind of quilt. Each of its patches unique and carefully hand-stitched into the fabric of its mosaic parts. Or perhaps a wondrous maze that a viewer winds her way through, and out, by pulling a delicate Ariadne’s thread.
I think it’s apt that the Greek mythology should have sprung to my mind. Aren’t all families somehow mythic, especially the troubled ones? The patriarch of the Sachs clan is certainly very Sphinx-like: an object, at once, of boundless adoration and love, but also a slippery man of mystery whose acts arouse genuine puzzlement in all his children. A god whose many faces are like a visage of a broken statue — bits that can never be whole again, but only awkwardly pieced, with glue, disjointed surfaces showing through, sharp edges painful to the touch.
In the film’s first introductory clip, the scionSachs, Sr. appears with his characteristic wisps of blond hair clinging to his skull, his bushy moustache, and somewhat restless and piercing blue eyes. He’s a “hippie businessman,” who “works as little as possible,” and “bottles water he can never stock.” In one shot, he stands framed by a mountainous vista (it turns out that Sachs developed hotels in Park City, Utah, where the Sundance Film Festival is held). The father speaks of his love for skiing, where you “go up slow and come down fast.” A comment that Sachs comments on in her own presciently clipped way: “To own a mountain from which there is nothing you can do but come down.”
I was struck by how this sentence is a gorgeous metaphor for pretty much how we relate to our parents — the most primordial love, which turns them into heroic, mythical, statue-like beings, mountain slopes from which, indeed, they can only come down. And how much of growing into adulthood is about the sudden vertigo of having to rewind, recalibrate our memories of the familial bind, from the times when we were still too innocent, too small, to have truly understood it. If we love them enough, we catch them coming down. We are mindful to pick up the pieces, glimpsing in their downfall from immortal heights the first sightings of our own fragility.
A Film About a Father Who is then an origin story, but one that’s never smug about its certainties, and always self-doubtful of how “it all” began. Sachs opens the film with a scene in which she’s cutting her elderly father’s hair, a moment so low-key yet so potent, because it is non-verbal. Everything else in the film – the tale of how the father managed to lie and cheat for so many years, how he hid his multiple affairs and his many children by different women from each other, for decades – all this will need to be explained. But the hair-cutting, with Sachs holding the scissors, untangling the knots, so that to snip them, lives outside language, time, it is an act of generosity and love, through which a small portion of care may me given back. Then there’s the scissors, which once again circle back to the metaphor of quilting, cutting things to pieces, and stitching them together — film editing itself like quilting, the kind of hands-on experimental cinema that Sachs practices, in particular, like the intricate, patient, artisanal task.
Sachs begins her story with the immediate family nucleus, her father, mother and her siblings, Dana and the filmmaker Ira Sachs. In this first central patch, there is still a certain sense of cohesion, as if the rest of the film could shoulder the illusion of producing a unified body of work; as if the process of delving into the past could heal, through rendering the small patches whole. Nothing like this occurs, it turns out. The more there is to discover, the more women and children enter the picture, the more quilt-like the film’s overall composition becomes. It demands to be seen as unruly, with each person, each story and heartache, finding its own proper place.
Among the father’s lovers are Diana, whose faint voice betrays terrible shyness, both on the subject’s part, but perhaps also the filmmaker’s. The inherent question of how to probe without hurting, how to make space for learning and empathy, but also establish a critical distance, is always keenly felt. Over the course of the film, this empathetic investigation becomes emboldened — either reflecting the director’s natural progression, or perhaps a mere artifact of thoughtful, painstaking editing, through which each woman’s testimony enriches the others. With Diana, for example, Sachs plants the idea of “companionship,” which apparently Sachs’s father used to seduce the young immigrant, Diana. And yet, Diana’s profile, cast against a dim window, is so lonely, so desolate, the word gains a heartbreaking, bitterly ironic twang.
If, as Tolstoy believed, all happy families are alike, but the unhappy ones suffer in distinct ways, Sachs’s film is indeed an epic that embodies a Tolstoian ethos. “I’ve been making this film about my father for twenty-six years now,” Sachs says at one point. In another she adds, “Can I make myself forget that for the first twenty years of my sister’s life I didn’t know of her existence?”
It’s a challenge to tell a story of such breadth without giving in to the tyranny of summary. But Sachs is never guilty of it, perhaps because, from the start, she strikes a patient but also an ironic tone. She holds out each cesura and is never rushed. Her carefully planted voiceovers, which echo, like refrains, emphasize dissonance, slippage, and paradox—as if to borrow Emily Dickinson’s motto, “Tell the truth, but tell it slant.” It’s a particularly poignant approach to a subject who is himself quite unable to offer this level of complete honesty, or transparency. We might have grown frustrated with such a subject, as too illusive, too coy, and yet, when centered in and filtered through Sachs’s voice, her father’s slipperiness becomes part of the game, a psychological, moral, philosophical quest for a glimmer of comprehension, and solace.
Again and again, this filmic richness emerges, where the previous parts of the film serve as a commentary on what comes next. Take the early family videos, for example. There is so much light, the children bouncing about, the colors overexposed, pushed, which on one hand reminds us of the fragility of earlier technologies, but on the other, doesn’t let us forget that family videos are a particular brand of narrative—or, one might say, fantasy. One makes a family. One constructs a memory. The film contains these small patches of idealized moments, frozen in time, it holds them in, like quilted patches, but it can also reveal them as such.
What’s brilliant about A Film About a Father Who is that this commentary on the past, on the nature of memory, on storytelling, on love, so often arises directly through its own filmic material. For example, the first dialogue with the mother is framed by a window with a bright light behind it, and it too seems part of the established idealized childhood space. As if the previous Impressionist brushes of light and movement, it too seems to point to brighter times. But when the dialogue continues, with some footage in the kitchen, a subtle change can be felt: It’s as if in a Rorschach test, what first seemed like light, now is the reverse, the shadow, the impermeability that beams into the kitchen, whereas the light is shut out, outside.
Thus the film builds and sustains its own cognitive dissonance. Sometimes, Sachs’s commentary seems to almost spill over, frame to frame, like a river, sometimes lyrical, sometimes critical, on her father’s behavior—while the image occasionally stops, holds almost still, desperately focusing the lens, surrendering to a blur. Somewhere in this tension, there’s language that fails, phrases like “a hippie businessman,” which try to establish just what the father is, how he might be summed up, then slowly letting go of substantive terms, and allowing adjectives, “caring,” “selfish,” “careless,” “loving” to cast their spell. If there’s a vertigo in these descriptions, it’s once again because the Sphinx-like puzzle isn’t meant to be solved. The film presents no solution; it can only ask, but this asking is also somehow enough. It is the necessary work.
The extended family grows, and so do group meetings, to include the younger generations. Some of the father’s children are born roughly around the same time as Sachs’s own daughter, Maya. In one scene, the young woman, Beth, expresses anger at having been cast out, and grown up in a harsh financial situation. Yet another mentions that she felt like the family’s powerful matriarch, Grandmother “Maw-Maw,” was going to disinherit her son, if more children surfaced, and so her existence was hidden. Earlier hesitations or questions are recast in a more discerning light. The careful trudging around fraught issues give in to Sachs’s direct question to her father about the lies. And if there is no immediate healing within the film’s constructed timeframe, there is a gesture and a reconciliation in a therapeutic exchange, in which each person voices her own hurt.
“Daughter, sister, mother, I cleave from one to another,” Sachs comments in the voiceover, heeding the lexical and experiential complexity of her many roles. And so the film never settles. It presents no center from which to control, contain, or judge. Instead, like Ariadne’s thread, it tugs, pulls, apart, anew, and so we’re guided the maze, enlightened, by the strings of love.
About Ela Bittencourt Ela Bittencourt is a critic and cultural journalist, currently based in São Paulo. She writes on art, film and literature, often in the context of social issues and politics.
Jury: Lynne Sachs, Sanaz Sohrabi, and Chris Boeckmann
Best Documentary
Huahua’s Dazzling World and its Myriad Temptations by Daphne Xu
In the past decade, humans have developed completely new lives on the internet, a strange and sometimes terrifying facet of reality that cinema has struggled to evoke. Huahua’s Dazzling World and Its Myriad Temptations by Daphne Xu rises to the challenge. As it peers through the illusory filters of livestreaming apps and incisively processes its own embodied camera, this precise and peculiar film births an invigorating new language to befit the spirit of its charismatic star.
In this film, Xu gives her subject and her “star” the chance to shape her identity, to perform her own life on a screen she has created herself. Xu shows us that Huahua has found agency with her cell phone. She defines her own parameters for beauty. She makes us think about the struggles of urban life in China, while also transcending these challenges through the construction of a new, totally self-confident internet identity.
Huahua’s Dazzling World and Its Myriad Temptations offers a critical yet poetic portrayal of the rapid urban transformations in the Xiongan New Area and the socio-political economy of live-streaming through the everyday life stories, challenges, and triumphs of Huahua, the matriarch of the family. The film gently and powerfully creates a portal into the virtual, the social, and the familial notions of intimacy, domestic violence, and refusals of normative ideals of beauty and empowerment. The economic challenges of Huahua in the midst of the urban development projects in the Xiongan New Area facing the violence of infrastructural developments in her surroundings, reverberates with the revelation of domestic violence in her intimate life. Daphne Xu beautifully reveals the complexities of this entanglement throughout the film. August 2022
Best Short Documentary
Dreams
Under Confinement
By Christopher Harris
With its intricately constructed montage, Dreams Under Confinement by Christopher Harris floods the senses and echoes long past its short runtime.
The film is a condensed and powerful experience of how disjointed and disembodied the surveillance machine of the carceral state sees, others, and criminalizes Black and Brown bodies. Christopher Harris’ multi-layered and complex audiovisual editing becomes a critical catalyst to deconstruct the power structures behind the production of surveillance machinery of the police state. In order to dismantle this carceral state, one has to claim authorship of its visual regimes of surveillance and Christopher Harris does an excellent job in claiming the right to look.
Christopher Harris has created a haunting tour-de-force short film that challenges us to think about the carceral state, racial profiling, satellite surveilance, policing and our contemporary notions of public and private space. With an extraordinary editing style, the film moves quickly yet the ideas within it are so strong you won’t be able to forget anything that you saw or heard.
Emerging Artist
Declarations
of Love
By Tiff Rekem
Documentary Arts
Convergence
By Ama Gisèle
Mission Zero Prize
The Lowland By Aidin Halalzadeh and Sepideh Salarvand
I can’t say I’m all that well versed in interpreting the structural and tonal elements of poetry. But when they’re distilled through the formal elements of cinema, it becomes more understandable to me. Lynne Sachs’ “Swerve” (2022) is heavily informed and inspired by the poetry of Filipino immigrant and former Queens-resident Paolo Javier, particularly those in his book O.B.B. (Original Brown Boy). Mixing the free-flowing and expressionistic words of Javier with several characters hanging around food hall stalls, a park, and basketball courts, Sachs gives a strangely hypnotic look at a time during the pandemic when people were okay with going outside and being among others but still encased in a bubble with their own thoughts.
The seven-minute experimental film begins in the Hong Kong Food Court in Elmhurst, Queens. One character (played by Inney Prakash) converses with a kid about his favorite school activities. He then goes around looking at the offerings at the stalls and recites lines from Javier’s poems. Another character (played by Jeff Preiss) reads more lines while sitting on a bench in the Moore Homestead Playground, located across the street from the food court. Others (played by ray ferriera, Emmy Catedral, and Juliana Sass) converse in various places within this small enclave during the film. This patch of Queens is like a microcosm of the world. All the dialogue recited in the film, both in Tagalog and English, serves a basis for exploring the way that human connection changed because of the pandemic.
Maureen Fazendeiro and Miguel Gomes’ The Tsugua Diaries (2021), another wonderful experimental non-fiction made during the pandemic, examined the passage of time in isolation, with a cast and crew maintaining a secluded area that felt detached from the rest of the world. However, the characters in “Swerve”are surrounded by people, and while the culture of Queens remains a unique part of the film and Javier’s poetry, the necessary precautions of the pandemic are everywhere and instantly, globally recognizable. Sachs’ camera, in motion constantly, rolls around, tracks, and dollies to and from its characters. The liveliness of the park and the empty seats at a restaurant offer a glimpse of a transitory period in which the pandemic is ongoing, but the inherent need for other people, for some joy, was bringing life back to Elmhurst.
In “Swerve,” Sachs separates her depiction of the pandemic from other pandemic-related films by considering how our communication with one another shifted in isolation, presenting a new challenge when we went back to socializing. The poetry — recited both on camera and as voiceover — metaphorically stands in for the characters’ internal monologues. Thoughts within our own minds become the new formal ways of keeping a conversation going. When communication is severed for so long, when dialogue doesn’t happen as naturally or as organically anymore, words become puzzles, swerving in our heads until we can make sense of them again. In the film, characters are often observing other people without talking to them. In turn, when a character recites dialogue aloud, others observe them on the peripheries. We hear what these characters have to say, but behind the masks that define the times, we don’t actually see them talking to each other.
Likewise, the film focuses on the two things many of us found solace in to replace our lack of contact with others — art and food. Characters write, eat, hang out, and think through words in poems. To combine these universal elements of social living with the distinct rooted identity of Javier’s poetry is a fascinating experiment. To see the words of a Filipino artist recited by people of different backgrounds makes one consider what being part of the community in Queens means. The film’s formal choices combine two or more elements into one — Tagalog and English language, dialogue and voiceover, conventions of documentary and experimental filmmaking, super 8mm film and digital. At its seams, “Swerve”tries to flow as freely as the writing that inspires it. It is a hard film to grasp on just one watch and it means a lot for a film, in such a short amount of time, to find its way to make sense of jumbled words and new rules of the world we live in using our love for art, food, and identity as guiding stars.
Approaches to the body, space and memory in self-referential cinema I film, therefore I exist, the course directed by Noemí García Díaz, is a space for reflection on self-referential film forms approached from a multidisciplinary perspective that includes three traditions: experimental cinema, cinema non-fiction and video art. In its third edition, the program is structured through the metaphor of the house. The house as a symbolic crossroads that embraces recurrent dimensions in self-referential cinema such as the private, public, domestic and historical, personal and political, near and far dimensions. The house as a symbol of the first space, the body, presented in its multiple forms of exposure and absence, from the most direct degrees of performativity, to the creation of figures of alterity that allow the self to be approached in a tangential and hidden way. The house as a metaphor for the family system, with its foundations, its home, its roof terraces, basements, closed rooms and its own rooms. As a present space and memory container.
In this journey towards the investigation of the self-referential gaze, we will explore both physical and figurative spaces where we can narrate distance; the distance that allows one to move away to return, to think and think-oneself. The course proposes seminars to think about self-referential cinema from a theoretical and historical point of view; monographic seminars on filmmakers and specific themes; and meetings with artists and filmmakers who will approach each format from the point of view of creation. It also proposes the development of an audiovisual practice of a self-referential nature.
This proposal is aimed both at artists and filmmakers who want to delve into the particularities of this genre and at people who are interested in the subject.
“It is still believed that you have to start from a story to make movies. It isn’t true. For Nathalie Granger I left the house alone. Really, it was. She had the house in her head constantly, constantly, and, she knows, then a story came to stay, but the house was already a cinema.” Margaret Duras
PROGRAM
SESSIONS Directed and coordinated by Noemí García Díaz, FILMO, THEREFORE I EXIST has the participation of top-level artists, filmmakers, academics and programmers. Below we offer the current list of artists for this next edition.
TOOLS 100% online and within the new flexibility in which we seek to attract the most outstanding artists and researchers within the field of self-reference. The sessions are developed from the ZOOM platform. All classes are in Spanish and the schedules are designed so that students interested in attending can either do so in the afternoon (from 7:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m.) or morning / noon schedules in the different time zones of countries of Latin America.
PUBLIC PROJECTION Of works of the students at the end of the course within the festival “Una casa” directed by Noemí García Diaz.
SCHEDULE From 19:00 to 22:00 (Madrid time). 14:00-17:00 (Argentina). 1:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. (Chile). 12:00 to 15:00 (Peru). 12:00 to 15:00 (Mexico). Every Tuesday from October 04. From October 4 to June 12. 30 sessions. 90 teaching hours + exercises/viewing outside the classroom. 25 seats maximum.
MEDIOGRAPHY We will have a careful and select filmography that gives echo and wide contents treated in each session. The sessions will be recorded and the students will be able to arrange them privately only in case they cannot be present in a session.
DIPLOMA At the end of the course you will receive a diploma and a certificate that justifies the completion of the course, its duration and contents.
FACULTY Noemí G. Díaz Lois Patiño Mercedes Álvarez Laida Lertxundi Mar Reykjavik Ana Isabel Bustamante Lynne Sachs Susana Blas Andrés Duque María Salgado Garbiñe Ortega Claudia Negro Valeria Hofman Efren Cuevas Diego Marchante Laura G. Vaquero Alberto Cabrera Bernal Guillermo G. Peydró Elena Arroyo Pablo Useros
ABOUT MASTER.LAV
MASTER.LAV is a unique program in its bets and proposals of an experimental nature and in the search to widen the limits of audiovisual language. The Master is articulated through continuous workshops and exercises, to which is added an annual project whose progress is shared in the classroom.
Spanish original:
Aproximaciones al cuerpo, el espacio y la memoria en el cine autorreferencial Filmo, luego existo, el curso dirigido por Noemí García Díaz, es un espacio de reflexión sobre las formas fílmicas autorreferenciales abordadas desde una perspectiva multidisciplinar que incluye tres tradiciones: cine experimental, cine de no ficción y el videoarte. En su III edición el programa se estructura a través de la metáfora de la casa. La casa como encrucijada simbólica que acoge dimensiones recurrentes en el cine autorreferencial como las dimensiones privado público, doméstico e histórico, personal y político, cercano y lejano. La casa como símbolo del primer espacio, el cuerpo, presentado en sus múltiples formas de exposición y de ausencia, desde los grados más directos de performatividad, hasta la creación de figuras de alteridad que permiten abordar el yo de forma tangencial y oculta. La casa como metáfora del sistema familiar, con sus cimientos, su hogar, sus azoteas, sótanos, habitaciones cerradas y cuartos propios. Como espacio de presente y contenedor de memoria.
En este viaje hacia la indagación de la mirada autorreferencial exploraremos tanto los espacios físicos como los figurados donde poder narrar la distancia; la distancia que permite alejarse para volver, para pensar y pensar-se. El curso propone seminarios para pensar el cine autorreferencial desde un punto de vista teórico e histórico; seminarios monográficos sobre cineastas y temáticas específicas; y encuentros con artistas y cineastas que abordarán cada formato desde el punto de vista de la creación. También propone el desarrollo de una práctica audiovisual del carácter autorreferencial.
Esta propuesta está destinada tanto a artistas y cineastas que quieran adentrarse en las particularidades de este género como a personas que estén interesadas en la temática.
“Se sigue creyendo que hay que partir de una historia para hacer cine. No es cierto. Para Nathalie Granger partí solo de la casa. De verdad, así fue. Tenia la casa en la cabeza constantemente, constantemente, y, sabe, luego, a continuación, vino a alojarse una historia, pero la casa era ya cine.” Margarite Duras
PROGRAMA
SESIONES Dirigido y coordinado por Noemí García Díaz, FILMO, LUEGO EXISTO cuenta con la participación de artistas, cineastas, académicos y programadores de máximo nivel. Abajo ofrecemos el listado actual de artistas para esta próxima edición.
HERRAMIENTAS 100% online y dentro de la nueva flexibilidad en la que buscamos atraer a los más destacados artistas e investigadores dentro del ámbito de lo autoreferencial. Las sesiones se desarrollan desde la plataforma ZOOM. Todas las clases son en castellano y los horarios están diseñados para que alumnxs interesados en asistir puedan o bien hacerlo en el horario de tarde (de 19:00 a 22:00) o horarios de mañana/mediodia en las diferentes usos horarios de paises de latinoamerica.
PROYECCIÓN PÚBLICA De trabajos de lxs alumnxs al final del curso dentro del festival “Una casa” dirigido por Noemí García Diaz.
HORARIOS De 19:00 a 22:00 (horario Madrid). 14:00-17:00 (Argentina). 13:00 a 16:00 (Chile). 12:00 a 15:00 (Perú). 12:00 a 15:00 (Mexico). Todos los martes a partir del 04 de octubre. Del 4 de octubre al 12 de junio. 30 sesiones. 90 horas lectivas + ejercicicios/visionados fuera de aula. 25 plazas máximo.
MEDIOGRAFÍA Dispondremos de una cuidada y selecta filmografia que da eco y amplia contenidos tratados en cada sesión. Las sesiones se grabarán y podrán disponerlas lxs alumnxs de forma privada solo en caso de que no puedan estar presentes en alguna sesión.
DIPLOMA Al finalizar el curso recibirás un diploma y un certificado que justifique la realización del curso, su duración y contenidos.
PROFESORADO Noemí G. Díaz Lois Patiño Mercedes Álvarez Laida Lertxundi Mar Reykjavik Ana Isabel Bustamante Lynne Sachs Susana Blas Andrés Duque María Salgado Garbiñe Ortega Claudia Negro Valeria Hofman Efren Cuevas Diego Marchante Laura G. Vaquero Alberto Cabrera Bernal Guillermo G. Peydró Elena Arroyo Pablo Useros
SEKUNDENARBEITEN
Christiana Perschon, Österreich 2021, 14 min
*WOMEN
(VALIE)
Karin Fisslthaler, Österreich 2021, 7:30 min
DAS
BIN NICHT ICH, DAS IST EIN BILD VON MIR
Christiana Perschon, Österreich 2021, 9:30 min
BEATRICE
GIBSON TO BARBARA LODEN, NINA MENKES AND BETTE GORDON
Beatrice Gibson, Großbritannien 2022, 4 min
DIANA
TOUCEDO TO DANIÈLE HUILLET
Diana Toucedo, Spanien 2022, 8 min
*WOMEN
(NICO)
Karin Fisslthaler, Österreich 2021, 2:30 min
A MONTH OF SINGLE FRAMES Lynne Sachs, USA 2019, 14 min
About
the Affairs of the Art program
This
Maria Lassing-like express lesson on the history of art takes us directly into
the heart of this year’s focus program, searching for propitious places from
which creativity emerges. After all, creativity is essential for dealing with
the daily struggle between coping with everyday life, inspiration crises,
striving for recognition, self-marketing and self-optimization pressure. How
could all that be reconciled with an artist’s own identity? Which subversive
methods can help to skirt the laws of the art world that are so hostile to art?
Four film nights – with a special focus on the fight for gender equality that
artists have waged for future generations – afford resistive considerations and
creative strategies for self-empowerment.
After the rain, magic happened. 💜
What a memorable night! A heartfelt thank you to 80 (!) people who were holding out in the rain with us to see the short film program THIS IS HOW I SEE YOU from our focus program AFFAIRS OF THE ART on the big screen in the garden cinema of @volkskundemuseumwien.
Timing could not have been better: Right after the start of the film screening the rain stopped and we enjoyed magical encounters on screen as well as a film talk with Christiana Perschon and Karin Fisslthaler after the screening.
The film program featured seven short films by women filmmakers paying tribute to iconic women artists and filmmakers who have waged a fight for artistic autonomy and gender equality for future generations: Lieselott Beschorner, VALIE EXPORT, Karin Mack, Barbara Loden, Nina Menkes, Bette Gordon, Danièle Huillet, Nico and Barbara Hammer.
ENTRE NOS (Paola Mendoza & Gloria La Morte, 2009) / SWERVE (Lynne Sachs, 2022) Museum of the Moving Image 35th Ave. at 36th St., Astoria Friday, July 15, 7:15, and Sunday, July 17, 1:30, $15 718-777-6800 movingimage.us
The
Astoria-based Museum of the Moving Image’s monthly “Queens on Screen” series —
which is not about royalty or LGBTQIA+ issues but comprises films set in one of
the most diverse areas on the planet — continues July 15 and 17 with two works
set in the borough. Up first is Lynne Sachs’s seven-minute Swerve, in which artist and curator Emmy
Catedral, blaqlatinx multidisciplinary artist ray ferreira, director and
cinematographer Jeff Preiss, film curator and programmer Inney Prakash, and
actor Juliana Sass recite excerpts from Pilipinx poet Paolo Javier’s O.B.B. (Nightboat,
November 2021, $19.95).
Illustrated
by Alex Tarampi and Ernest Concepcion, the book, which stands for Original
Brown Boy, consists of such sections as “Aren’t You a Mess,” “Goldfish Kisses,”
“Restrained by Time,” and “Last Gasp.” New Yorkers Catedral, ferreira, Preiss,
Prakash, and Sass share Javier’s words as they wander around Moore Homestead Playground and Elmhurst’s HK
Food Court. “The words each operate on their own swerve, from music that would
play in the background and from overheard conversation outside my window, on
the subway, at the local Korean deli,” Javier says at the beginning, writing in
a notebook.
The
film was shot in one day in August 2021, during the Delta wave of Covid-19, so
many people are wearing masks, and the food court is nearly empty; when Prakash
orders, a plastic sheet separates him from the employee. The performers recite
the poems as if engaging in free-flowing speech; words occasionally appear on
the screen, including “free emptiness,” “unknown thoroughfare,” and “hum your
savage cabbage leaf.”
Experimental
documentarian Sachs (Film About a Father Who,Investigation
of a Flame), who was the subject of a career retrospective at
MoMI last year, captures the unique rhythm of both Javier’s
language and the language of Queens; Javier and Sachs will be at the museum to
discuss the film after the July 15 screening.
Swerve will be followed
by Paola Mendoza and Gloria La Morte’s Entre Nos, a
deeply personal semiautobiographical story in which Mendoza stars as a
Colombian immigrant whose husband deserts her, leaving her to raise two
children in Queens. The film is shot by Oscar-nominated cinematographer
Bradford Young (Arrival,Selma), who makes the borough its
own character.
In
a director’s note, Mendoza explains, “Throughout my childhood my mother worked
countless double-shifts at the toilet bowl cleaners business and flipping
burgers at local fast food restaurants near me. We never talked about the
roaches in the house or the yearning to see our family back in the country and
culture of Colombia. Instead we had to learn to smile through the grit, the
trial of tears, and dealing with heartache. As the years passed, I came to a
sublime new realization that our story was not unique. Thousands of immigrant
mothers, for hundreds of years, have endured problems when trying to adapt to
their new immigration in the USA. My mother, like those before her, have
overcome all that remains for exactly the same reason, to build the foundation
for a better life for their children.”