We mostly think of robots as work machines, as efficient and precise executors of tasks. In German industry, they barely look like people, to avoid emotional complications. Unlike in Asia, where humanoid robots have already been developed for some time, for example for care-work or as sex partners. The external similarity to human beings makes the acceptance of machines easier. However, if the machine is too similar to a human, we begin to feel mistrust: what is human, what is machine? Japanese robotics researchers call this weird similarity the “uncanny valley”.
For his new play, Stefan Kaegi works with a writer and playwright for the first time: Thomas Melle allowed an animatronic double of himself to be made. This humanoid takes the author’s place and throws up questions: what does it mean for the original when the copy takes over? Does the original get to know himself better through his electronic double? Do the copy and his original compete or do they help each other?
This special screening, which Kundura Stage (Kundura Sahne) met with the audience online between January 15 and March 1, 2021, was Kaegi’s humanoid robotic performance “Uncanny Valley” that was well received and brought the use of artificial intelligence to a new threshold when it was staged in 2018 . The play, in which we will see a humanoid robot, copied and produced with reference to the extraordinary writer of German literature Thomas Melle, on the stage alone, narrays the author’s journey of literature and his manic-depressive experiences starting from his childhood. The play that derives from the concept of ‘Uncanny Valley’ which was used for the first time in the 1970s by the Japanese robotist Masahiro Mori and which describes the uncanny and existential uncertainty that people live in when they encounter humanoid machines, takes the audience in this uncanny space where the questions of ‘what is human’ and ‘what is a machine’ are coalesced into one. It offers an engaging viewing experience as well as annoying. You can find detailed information about the play, which attracted great attention when it was screened with Turkish subtitles on Kundura Blog, on the following page of Rimini Protokoll and you can read articles and interviews about Uncanny Valley on our blog.
The guest of the online program of Kundura Stage (Kundura Sahne located in Istanbul, at the Beykoz Kundura) is Stefan Kaegi, one of the founders of Rimini Protokoll which is one of the important art collectives of the European Theater. The guests of his project called “Uncanny Valley” are German writer Thomas Melle, more precisely, Melle’s copied and produced android along with the British mathematician and computer scientist Alan Turing.
After saying “By the late twentieth century, our time, a mythic time, we are all chimeras, theorized and fabricated hybrids of machine and organism; in short, we are cyborgs”, the author of the book “Manifesto Cyborg”, in her book “The Companion Species Manifesto” Donna Haraway continues as: “This is also a tale of biopower and biosociality as it is a tale of technoscience. / Cyborgs (…) may be the figurines of surviving in the heart of contradiction.” “Cyborg”, “uncanny valley”, “android”, “actroid”, “robot” or “transhuman”, what is the definition and meaning of all these names/definitions for you (in your perception)?
It’s funny you quote Haraway. As you know she also is very intrigued by animals intelligence – and I am just working with a very smart Octopus as protagonist of my show. And when we look at it it feels so alien that people like Vilem Flusser called them extraterrestrian. Cyborgs on the other hand are very familiar tot us. We are so closely connected to and even dependent on technology that it hurts, when we lose them. Try to lock away your mobile phone for a day and you will feel the phantom pain…
Let’s talk about “Uncanny Valley” performance… Can you tell us about the theme and the creation process of this performance? What was your source of inspiration? How did Stefan Kaegi, Thomas Melle and Alan Turing get together?
I was fascinated by some humanoids I saw in museums but felt the power of an encounter in theatre where you are exposed to the robot as a performer could be way stronger. At some point I came across Thomas’s book ‘The World in my Back’ and I suspected that he could have an interest in replacing himself to avoid instabilities resulting from his bipolarity. Thomas quite immediately was inspired by the robot idea… And he suggested to add a part about Alan Turing – which I liked very much…The inside of the robot was created by Chris-Creatures a small animatronics workshop in Berlin. They built the entire exosceleton and installed the 32 servo engines while the silicon skin and the hairs and hands were produced in the mask workshop of Kammerspiele München. Indeed to make him walk would have been an entirely different story. Luckily for the purpose of a lecture performance in a theatre space we didn’t need those features.
Nowadays “Uncanny Valley” is a frequently used concept. Culture and art also get their share from such use; it appears in cinema, exhibitions, literature and music. It is both entertaining and uncanny to watch the projection of this concept that has been used by Japanese robotist Masahiro Mori in the 70s, onto today’s setting every day. As of today, it is obvious that technology has changed our world; how do you think such change modified and transformed creators of culture and art/you and their followers/us? For example, how will it be to make art in an “uncanny valley”?
More and more, we are treated by bots. Somebody may have even written an algorithm that answers this kind of interviews and it would be hard to prove it wasn’t me answering your questions.
But I wondered if people can empathize with a thing. A classical theatre question applied on a simulation of an actor.
We probably all try to make us more efficient, less fragile. We want to forget less and live longer. And we all rely on technics and medicine to move further down that alley. Now where is the limit?
I would like to ask the questions stated in the introduction text of the play to you, you can reply each of them with one sentence: What does it mean for the original when the copy takes over? Does the original get to know himself better through his electronic double? Do the copy and his original compete or do they help each other?
I prefer not to answer the questions raised by the piece, I hope the play inspires each spectator to answer them for themselves. But what I can say is that the process of creating this human copy helped all of us in this process to look more precisely at the human being. I guess a similar thing happens to painters when they try to paint the human body. They start to look very precisely at the original. For me this piece is about empathy because we cannot stop ourselves feeling empathy with this machine as we mirror ourselves in him (or it?). And precisely this empathy-mechanism in us is one of many human “programmes“ that make me doubt where the limit between a robot is and ourselves. How free is our free will?
Jacques Derrida, who said “This world is a manuscript of another world closed to a universal reading and code of which can only be deciphered by existence” in his book “Gramatologia”, and Raymond Williams who said “Human is not anything due to its “nature”. It is an entity that both creates and overcomes its boundaries” in “Modern Tragedy”. Under the light of these masters’ quotes, how will the pandemic process we are going through globally, transform performance arts and the lives of humans in the future? Or do you think the 350 thousand years old story of the humanlings within the 4.5 billion years old history of the earth would continue as it has been all these years?
Certainly the humans are weared kind of animal. They somehow have lost their instruction manual, their instincts. After having outsourced all they used to do – either to machines or to countries where labour is cheap enough you can afford it, they don’t know further what to do. I guess it’s a good moment to look at nature, as some of it will go on. The pandemic is certainly a good moment to ask ourselves how long we want to live and reproduce ourselves. A good moment to question growth, both economical as well as growth of population, prolongation of our life expectancy etc.
Are there any more projects and plays on the way? It would be nice to give the good news from here!
My octopus piece is finished,waiting for it’s audience. It’s recording will actually be streamed in an online version by Theatre Vidy-Lausanne this week. I created an audio-tour for abandoned theatres during lockdown: Black Box, Phantomtheatre for 1 person. With my Rimini Protokoll colleagues Helgard Haug and Daniel Wetzel, we created a live-zoom-performance-version of our Call Centre piece Call Cutta. And we are working on a big immersive exhibition for the CCCB museum in Barcelona…And for Turkey I really hope that soon our Remote Istanbul audio-tour will soon be running again.
Betül Memiş / CNNturk.com
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Having had its Türkiye premiere on Kundurama, the award-winning documentary by South Korean director and artist Sung-A Yoon, “Overseas”, tells the overseas stories of Filipina migrant workers and what happens at a center where Filipina women pushed into migrant domestic work are ‘trained to be maids.’
Starting with the Locarno Film Festival, where it premiered, the film has screened in the programs of the world’s leading documentary film festivals such as CPH:DOX, BFI London, Busan and IDFA, and at the Warsaw and Hamptons film festivals it was named Best Documentary Film. The director of “Overseas”, Sung-A Yoon, spoke exclusively to Kundura Sinema for the film’s screening in Türkiye and answered questions from Altyazı Cinema Magazine writer Övgü Gökçe.
A South Korean artist and filmmaker. She studied theater at the Sorbonne Nouvelle, and fine arts and cinema at the Paris-Cergy Fine Arts School and at INSAS in Brussels. Playing with the conventions of documentary practice and the codes of narrative cinema, she makes hybrid films. Her video works from the 2000s have been exhibited at the Busan Biennale as well as at museums and galleries such as the Jeu de Paume, the Busan Biennale, Le Plateau, the Palais de Tokyo and Bétonsalon. Her 24-minute graduation film “Et Dans Mon Cœur J’emporterai,” shot in 2008, was selected for the Cannes Film Festival and screened in the programs of many international festivals. In her first feature documentary, “Full of Missing Links” (2012), she recounted her journey to South Korea in search of her long-lost father. In 2019 she directed the documentary “Overseas.” The film premiered at the Locarno Film Festival and was named Best Documentary Film at the Warsaw and Hamptons film festivals. A member of the selection committee of the Belgian documentary film festival Filmer à tout prix, and teaching filmmaking at the Haute Ecole Libre de Bruxelles since 2015, Sung-A Yoon is working on her first feature film project. www.yoonsunga.com
The award-winning documentary “Overseas” by South Korean director and artist Sung-A Yoon, which premiered in Turkey at Kundurama, tells the stories of Filipino female workers overseas and what happened in a center where Filipino women forced into nomadic housework were ‘trained to be maids’.
Sung-A Yoon, the director of “Overseas”, which has been screened in the programs of the world’s leading documentary film festivals as CPH: DOX, BFI London, Busan, IDFA and the Locarno Film Festival where it made its debut, was also selected the Best Documentary Film at the Warsaw and Hamptons film festivals, spoke to Kundura Cinema in regards to screening of the film in Turkey and answered the questions of Altyazı Cinema Magazine writer Övgü Gökçe.
Yoon Sung-A is a French-Korean filmmaker. From 2001 to 2011, she directed ten short films, that has been mostly shownin exhibition spaces such as Jeu de Paume Atelier, Busan Biennale, Maison d’Art Bernard Anthonioz etc. Turning to fiction in 2008, she completed a short titled« ET DANS MON CŒUR J’EMPORTERAI » (Cannes Film Festival – Cinefondation).In 2012, she went to South Korea in search of her father, from which she made her first feature documentary film, « FULL OF MISSING LINKS » (Gent CourtisaneFilm Festival, London Korean Film Festival, etc.). It is in the Philippines, along with women trained as domestic workers, that was shot « OVERSEAS », her second feature documentary film. Premiered at 72nd Locarno Film Festival (Cineasti del Presente competition) and multi-awarded, it is currently screened in festivals worlwide (MoMADoc Fortnight, Busan IFF, BFI London FF, IDFA, Premiers plansd’Angers etc.). Yoon graduated from National Superior Fine Arts School of Paris-Cergy (2005) and from INSAS, cinema school of Brussels (2007).
www.yoonsunga.com
In the Star Wars universe, the Jedi, who try to maintain the balance between the light side and the dark side by controlling the Force, wish each other luck when their paths part by saying “May the Force be with you” (rendered in Turkish as “Güç seninle olsun,” literally “May the power be with you”). Because this phrase, one of the most famous lines from one of the most popular series in film history, evokes May 4th (May the Fourth) in English, that date is celebrated every year as Star Wars Day. In fact, this famous line was never translated quite accurately into Turkish. As Dr. Umut Eldem also noted in his FelsefeLab presentation, available on Beykoz Kundura’s YouTube channel, titled ‘Metaphysics: Is the Force with Us?’, “force” actually corresponds to the Turkish word “kuvvet” (force). However, because the word was translated as “güç” (power) at the time, it settled into Turkish that way. At first glance you might think there is hardly any difference between the concepts of “power” and “force.” But a little research into these concepts shows that each is used to describe a different dynamic, and that the difference in meaning between the two actually has the “force” to open up a very fundamental question about the intellectual underpinnings of the Star Wars universe. Before we start pondering these concepts, however, let us begin by recalling what the Star Wars universe draws on.
A Mythological Universe
It would not be enough to define the Star Wars series solely within the genre of science fiction. Creating a universe by drawing on many different sources, George Lucas, influenced by Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, by westerns, by Japanese mythology and by the films of Akira Kurosawa (especially the director’s The Hidden Fortress (Kakushi-toride no san-akunin, 1958)), produces a work that we could actually describe as a space opera, a space western or a fantasy science fiction. Drawing more on the iconography of fantasy narratives than on the elements of the science fiction genre, Lucas brings together the storytelling methods of mythological tales and their metaphorical representations to create a timeless collage.
As the fundamental paradigm that determines the way we relate to one another at every point in our lives, “dominion” and “power” lie at the center of the Star Wars universe, just as they do in great fantasy narratives such as The Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. What is the dynamic behind one person trying to prevail over another, one culture over another culture, one society over another society, one state over another state? Star Wars tells how civilization, which has existed by establishing domination over one another and tends to ignore any other path, yet has at times also managed to pause and find balance, copes with power, and how at times it fails to cope. The metaphor for dominion is a ring in The Lord of the Rings, a throne in Game of Thrones, and in Star Wars, it is the “Force.”
The “Force,” which different characters in the Star Wars universe can control in different ways, is like a sacred instrument that is invisible yet present everywhere and at every moment. By reflecting on the concepts of “force” and “power,” Star Wars uses a story, at times full of intrigue and at times tragic, that took place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away to discuss the dynamics of the here and now. As in every fairy tale and every fantasy narrative, by stripping its story of a familiar time and place, it keeps us away from the cultural codes we might load onto the story.
The Dark Side of the Force
The Jedi, who represent light and goodness, are warriors fighting to keep the peace in a galaxy very far from us, where countless kinds of beings coexist. As Dr. Umut Eldem also pointed out in his presentation, in the Star Wars universe the Force is like part of a religious teaching, which we can see as the equivalent of the idea of a pantheist god. (Let us also note that some Star Wars fans have registered their religion as Jedi on their identity records.) If we look at the definition in physics of the “force” that the Jedi can manipulate, we see that the concept relates to the ability to withstand resistance, but that it can only exist together with action and reaction. At the root of the debate Star Wars stages on the conflict between light and darkness, good and evil, lies the question of which force is used, by whom and how. Only when the Force is used through its dark side can it turn into “power.”
Unlike force, the concept of power has no two-way dynamic such as action and reaction. Power is used to describe the action of whichever is dominant among forces. Treating dominion (power) as a matter that concerns the dark side, the Star Wars series marks the concentration of power in certain individuals or institutions as a tragedy. The concentration of absolute power in an emperor will bring nothing but massacre, tragedy and catastrophe; it will annihilate those who do not exist as the powerful wish, and at the same time it will consume the holders of power from within. Darth Sidious, who begins to command the dark side, starts to shrivel and decay in Revenge of the Sith (Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith, 2005) at the moment he uses disproportionate power against a Jedi, and the Emperor with the deformed body that we see in the original Star Wars trilogy is born in this scene. In the same film, the Emperor provokes a security crisis, shuts down the parliament and unites the entire galaxy under an empire.
The Jedi, who side with the rebels persecuted by the Emperor and seeking justice, try to keep themselves away from the dark side of the Force and from the effects of having too much power. Almost all the Jedi, except Anakin Skywalker, who will later become Darth Vader, are also in a constant battle with their own will. The Jedi use the Force, which does not turn into power and from which the dark side is kept out, as the ability to withstand resistance, just as the concept itself is defined. In the Star Wars universe, there is a reconciliation beneath the concept of force, whereas power is an instrument of domination. Building its entire narrative on the dualities of light and dark, good and evil, Star Wars chose its side from the very beginning. A happy ending will come only through the right use of the “force” that determines our ability to resist.
Ali Deniz ŞENSÖZ
*This article was written by ALTYAZI MAGAZINE writer Ali Deniz Şensöz for Kundura Blog.
**Star Wars seen from an entirely new angle through the theme of ‘the Force’ with academic Dr. Umut Eldem: you can watch the FelsefeLab talks on the Beykoz Kundura YouTube channel at any time.
*You can watch Daniel & Clara’s film Notes from a Journey online and free of charge until July 19, 2021, on Kundurama, as part of “The Other Side of the Dream” selection.
British filmmakers Daniel and Clara say they have freed themselves from their nationalities, surnames and genders in order to work as “a single artist split into two human forms.” Judging by their working bases in the countryside of Portugal and England, Daniel and Clara’s focus clearly points toward a rural aesthetic. Even at their most direct, Daniel and Clara’s films avoid simple documentation. Even when it is an experience as ordinary as taking a walk by the sea, they convey its complexity.
Their latest feature, Notes from a Journey (2019), signals that it is an avant-garde horror film, if horror shot through with a light-hearted joy is possible. The directors use music, sound design, editing and color to show the limits of our perception and the potential for a perfect connection with nature. Shot during a two-week journey that ended at the stone circle of Avebury in the United Kingdom, the film never allows the viewer to settle. While the image of a forest is hidden behind bright red tones, the screen periodically becomes so white or so dark that we can see nothing at all. The film contains a few scenes in which we clearly see Daniel and Clara on their journey and recording sounds, but even these scenes seem uncanny in context. Although it is not linear, it is sound, more than image, that carries the film. It is an exciting continuation of Exteriors (2017), a series of short films that turned their tendency toward abstraction into something new and hard to pin down. Notes from a Journey is thrillingly beautiful, yet it also carries an uncanny sense of foreboding.
**This interview was conducted by email for Kinoscope, with Daniel and Clara giving written answers to questions from film critic Steve Erickson.
Revisiting (2019) seems to create an imaginary, immersive experience of nature. Yet at the same time, it keeps reminding the viewer that this experience reaches them through a medium. Along with people taking photographs of the stone circle, we also see printed pictures of it next to a computer. Why did you include these references?
Revisiting came about during our second visit to the Avebury stone circle in Wiltshire. Our first visit took place in 2017, during a two-week tour around England, and it resulted in our feature film Notes from a Journey. Avebury had a significant impact on our lives and our work; you could say it was one of the reasons we returned to England after living in Portugal for a few years. The experience was almost life-changing, and it has guided the focus of our creative practice ever since. So “Revisiting” is a film about returning to this place of personal significance, about looking at the site, and about trying to express the feeling of experiencing it.
We are very much interested in the nature of experience, and through our work we explore how we can express the experience of experiencing in all its complexity and layers, especially in relation to place. When we encounter a place, our experience of it is never one-dimensional. It is not a matter of observing objectively, as if we were some unfeeling mechanical device. What we describe as our experience is made up of complex and stimulating layers that exist both inside and outside.
There are the physical feelings and sensations caused by the temperature and the weather, and there are also the physical sensations within yourself: whether you are hungry or have just eaten, whether you are ill, in pain or suffering, or have any other bodily sensation. Your emotional state also colors how you respond to the place. All of this is blended together with the thoughts flowing through your mind and with the personal and cultural associations of the place. All of it becomes a dance in which inner and outer reality merge seamlessly. In our work, we explore ways of becoming more aware of all these dimensions of experience, and of how they contribute to our perception of what reality is.
This brings us to how image-making tools come into play. Since our experience of making a film about returning to Avebury centered on looking through cameras and on the act of image-making, we felt it was fitting to include this on screen as well.
How did you decide to shoot the Exteriors series on VHS, which gives it a smeared and imperfect quality?
Our interest lies in consciousness, and in particular in how art can help us to exist fully and consciously in the present moment, and we are aware that, by creating, it can allow us to exist within reality.
Especially when working with photographic images, we want to push them to a place where they stop being a document of something and become something in themselves. We hope to make work that involves a first-person encounter with the piece, work that is not only about its subject but is also an experience for the viewer. When watching an image filmed on VHS, one becomes aware of the recording device and all too aware of its limits as an accurate depiction of external reality. But it is also a hypnotically beautiful image. When you look at its shifting colors and flickering images, you are drawn into it. For us, it is a medium that expresses well our interest in an experience of dual reality.
The electronic music you place in the final minutes of EXT. WAVES (2017), and the way you cut the sound in parts of EXT. FIRE AT FAIRLIGHT GLEN (2017), push the films toward abstraction in a way that made me forget the real nature of what I was seeing. Did you ever plan to use live sound all the way through?
You are right that the sound choices in the films make them more abstract. The way we use sound is the same as the way we use images, as something that activates experience, while also being aware that it is an artifice. We are always amazed at how subtly sound can change the experience of an image; sound can overwhelm it and flatten it, and it can also bring it to life. In guiding the viewer through a film and in creating the reality of the experience, sound is even more powerful than image. It affects both our bodily perception and our instinctive sense of what reality is in a more elusive way.
We always shoot our films silent and edit image and sound separately. That way we have more control over how they interact. Sometimes the sound draws close to the image, appearing as if it were in sync with it, but at other times it can drift away from the image, as if there were several realities existing at the same time.
There is no composer credit on your films. Do you write your music yourselves?
Our early work was usually made in collaboration with musicians and sound artists, but since 2016 we have started making the sound and music ourselves. This was partly because we work faster and on more than one project at a time, and we like to jump between projects when inspiration strikes. So working with others was not very practical for us. We are not trained musicians, but we have developed some personal strategies for creating music; we usually work through sound and image rather than through music.
In Notes From a Journey, we can see images of the forest behind the red tinting. But I kept wondering whether the faint images I saw behind the white screen were optical illusions. Is this excess of light there to cover something up?
In Notes from a Journey we call these sequences color fields. They are faint shots of landscapes, barely visible within a digitally created flat field of bright red, blue, white or black. When we first created them, watching a full sequence in the darkness of our studio was a real shock to our eyes. The extreme color fields push our eyes to the limits of perception, where the image is so hard to see that we even doubt it is there. Are we questioning what we see on the screen, or the effect of the colored light on our eyes? Of course, it is the interweaving of both the stimuli and the physical mechanisms, and their subsequent translation by the brain. While watching these extreme color fields in the dark, one can become aware of how our eyes respond, and also of how the mind tries to make sense of what it sees, how even the slightest image gets filled in. Building a picture out of gaps and even the faintest of clues. What fascinates us is being both inside the experience and observing it at the same time.
The interplay between image and sound in Notes from a Journey is quite complex. How long did the editing take, and how much did you work on this aspect of the film?
Notes from a Journey was edited over two years, but most of that time was spent on other projects. We would have short marathons of work on it, but then we would need to step back. It took us a long time to find the right approach to the film. We like working on several projects at once. When we reach a standstill, we immediately move on to another project. We think this helps the flow of creativity more. Usually, when we return to a work in progress, we can more easily solve everything that had been troubling us before.
We edited and locked the film before starting work on the soundtrack. This part of the process usually develops more quickly for us. The sound and music of Notes From a Journey were created over a month-long process that used a kind of mix of field recordings along with sounds recorded at home. Lacking a sound studio, we built a sound booth by hanging blankets around a wardrobe, where we recorded all the effects and body sounds.
There are undertones of pantheism and a touch of hidden ritualism in your films. Do you follow any spiritual or religious belief system? If so, how much is this connected to your interest in rural spaces and in depicting nature?
We follow the creative spirit wherever it takes us. However, we are not followers of any external spiritual structure. In the early years of our collaboration, our focus was more on experience and insight. We spent a lot of time exploring the images in our dreams and the workings of the imagination, and incorporating them into our practice. More recently, this inward gaze has made room for more dialogue with the environments we find ourselves in, and for the need to look outward. So one of our eyes is open and looking outward, while the other is closed and looking inward. But we have always been strongly drawn to rural spaces, to the natural, to places where the human element is present but which somehow feel mysterious or outside of time. Where our dreams and the landscape intertwine, our fantasies can come true. For us, the landscape is not something that exists on its own; as we come face to face with it, we encounter what we project onto it. Responding to this encounter through image-making is to set out on a journey of the self and of perception.
You set up a website called Moving Image Artists in order to better explain and share both your own work and that of your peers, particularly experimental filmmakers working with images of nature. Before that, you published a magazine in which you wrote about cinema. Are you happy with the response Moving Image Artists has received?
MIA grew out of a need felt by ourselves and by our friends working with the moving image, artists making work that exists in the gap between the gallery and the cinema but does not fit into theoretical frameworks. When we returned to England in 2019, we were looking for a space where artists could come together, share their ideas and work openly and collaboratively, without expecting a hierarchical structure. No such space existed, so we had to create it. We launched the Moving Image Salon concept, a monthly gathering for artists working in experimental film, video art, in short, every kind of moving image. Every month we offer an open platform where our guests can share their work.
We are glad we decided to do it. We had no idea how popular it would become, and through it we have met many inspiring artists. Likewise, we are very happy that these artists have found it a useful and inspiring space for themselves. A community has begun to form through the collaborations that have emerged from the discussions and encounters. The online magazine serves as a platform for artists to write about their own work, share their research and processes, and interview other artists. We see it as a way of documenting and sharing what is happening now in contemporary moving image art.
During the current lockdown, the only way people have been able to see your work has been on home monitors, which are usually quite small computer screens. I watched it on my laptop. Given that you often play with the limits of darkness and our perception, how do you think the experience of seeing your work this way works? Have you had the chance to present Notes From a Journey theatrically?
So far, Notes from a Journey has been shown at the Rencontres Internationales in Paris, the Slow Film Festival in the UK, and the Museum of Modern Art in Rio. That is not enough for us, but we are very happy that we at least had that opportunity before the coronavirus pandemic hit the world and the lockdown began. Unfortunately, because of this, all of our upcoming screenings have been canceled, and we do not yet know when we will be able to return to a cinema. Notes from a Journey was not designed to be viewed on a screen such as a home monitor. But for now, we are happy that the film is featured on a platform like Kinoscope and that people can access it. We know the film offers a challenging experience for home viewing, but the lovely responses we have received have really surprised us, so even if it is watched under these conditions, that is wonderful for us. Yes, perhaps it will not be the same as the cinema experience, but it can still evolve into another kind of viewing experience. For the full effect, we recommend that viewers watch it in the dark with headphones or at a very high volume!
What is your latest project, and how far along is it?
We are spending the lockdown on Mersea Island, off the coast of Essex. During this time, we are working on a few projects that keep us sane, safe and creative. Some of these projects are partly a response to the situation we find ourselves in.
We have a mail art project. We have a series of letters that we send to friends, followers and a few strangers. We have been doing this for a year, but now that we find ourselves in great isolation, it has become a more important part of our work. With everything being online, finding ways to make a physical connection is very important to us. Material sent directly from our own hands to the audience is one such work. The act of sending letters carries this feeling as well.
We are also developing a new moving image installation, which is still in its early stages. The film is being shot on Mersea Island and is largely inspired by the hedgerows, thorns, thickets and empty paths that run through the fields and woods around the island. But we are only just beginning! You can follow its progress here: https://www.instagram.com/daniel_and_clara
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Daniel & Clara’s film Notes from a Journey is showing on Kundurama until July 19.
Moving Image Artists:
https://movingimageartists.co.uk/
Daniel & Clara’s website: https://daniel-clara.co.uk/
Header and inline images: “Notes from a Journey”, Daniel & Clara
Turkish translation: Nil Ege Özden
To read the original article, please click here.
Kundura Cinema’s online screening platform Kundurama published the 14-hour documentary “Women Make Movies: New Road Movie Through Cinema” and in petto to the film’s meeting with the Turkish audience, Kundura Blog brings you the striking talk with the acknowledged director Mark Cousins!
The director and film critic Mark Cousins, whom the cinephiles are familiar with his previous documentary “The Story of Film Odyssey / Cinema Story” gave this talk specific to film’s screening in Turkey by answering Altyazi Cinema Magazine’s editor Aslı Ildır. Cousins tells the story of this crazy project, in which he brought together pieces from the films of nearly 200 female directors by watching thousands of movies, expressing that he prefers to represent women filmmakers with their creativity and imagination, not as victims of the film industry.
“Women Make Film: A New Road Movie Through Cinema”, winner of the Award of Innovative Storytelling at the 2020 European Film Awards, brings us to an exquisite journey along with the narrations by Tilda Swinton who is also co-producing the film, as well as by Jane Fonda, Adjoa Andoh, Sharmila Tagore, Kerry Fox, Thandie Newton and Debra Winger; and lists the 40 golden rules of making a “good movie” based on films by selected female directors from around the world.
Kundura Sinema’s online viewing platform Kundurama is now streaming the 14-hour documentary “Women Make Film: A New Road Movie Through Cinema”, and to celebrate its release for audiences in Türkiye, we are delighted to share with you this striking conversation we held with director Mark Cousins!
Familiar to film lovers from his “The Story of Film: An Odyssey” documentary, director and film writer Mark Cousins spoke exclusively to Kundura Sinema for the film’s screening in Türkiye and answered questions from Altyazı Cinema Magazine editor Aslı Ildır. In this online conversation, Cousins tells the story of this crazy project, for which he watched thousands of films and brought together clips from the work of nearly 200 women directors, and explains that he chose to portray women filmmakers not as victims of the film industry but through their creativity and imagination.
Honored at the 2020 European Film Awards with the Innovative Storytelling Award, “Women Make Film: A New Road Movie Through Cinema” takes us on a unique journey guided by its co-producer Tilda Swinton along with actors Jane Fonda, Adjoa Andoh, Sharmila Tagore, Kerry Fox, Thandie Newton and Debra Winger, and through films by women directors from all over the world, it sets out the 40 golden rules of making “a good film.”
Cinema is an art of action, isn’t it? Or is it? Directors such as Angela Schanelec, Anouk Leopold, Kira Muratova, Chantal Akerman, Sharon Lockhart and Pakistan’s Sabiha Sumar, among others, will show us the pleasures and beauty held in a moment of stillness.
Films show the world, but what happens when they don’t show something? In this chapter, some of the great filmmakers from around the world leave out a moment, a scene, and their films are all the better for it.
Since cinema is a kind of time machine, it is no surprise that it is wonderful at memory. In this chapter we will explore rare cinematic gems about memory in films made by filmmakers including Petra Costa, Maria Plyta from Greece, Dorota Kędzierzawska from Poland, Věra Chytilová, Mai Zetterling and Mati Diop.
Every filmmaker has to think about time. As this chapter shows, Alice Guy-Blaché, Chantal Akerman, Ildikó Enyedi from Hungary, Hanna Polak, Marie Menken and Sally Potter have done so magnificently.
Novels are wonderful at depicting thoughts, but how do films do it? In this chapter we will see how great directors from France, Ukraine, England, America, New Zealand and Algeria have used time in their films.
In the final chapters of our story, we will look at the bigger things in life. Here we will watch great filmmakers from all over the world and from many eras try to capture the essence of life.
Films can soar with love, and they can also become overly sentimental because of it. In this chapter we will look at wonderful films from China, Sri Lanka, America, Hungary, Iran, New Zealand, France, Britain, Korea, Türkiye and Hong Kong that manage to avoid the pitfalls of the subject.
As it is the most important subject in life, and the most universal, it is no surprise that the great filmmakers in this chapter, including Kinuyo Tanaka from Japan, Caroline Leaf from Canada, Ana Mariscal from Spain and Paula van der Oest from the Netherlands, embrace it.
We will begin to bring our epic road movie to a close with films by Sonja Heiss, Larisa Shepitko, Ida Lupino, Lizzie Borden, Claire Denis and Maya Deren.
They say you should leave with a song, and so that is how our story ends. Huang Shuqin from China, Vera Stroyeva from Russia, Margaret Tait from Scotland, Alice Guy, Edith Carlmar, Céline Sciamma, Gilda de Abreu from Brazil, Joan Micklin Silver from America, the great Shirley Clarke, Dorothy Arzner and Beyoncé will make music with their films.
We bring our story, our road movie, to a close, and we end it in an unexpected place…
Narrator Sharmila Tagore takes us on a global tour of great films about religion. Our journey begins in America in the 1910s, travels to Sri Lanka in the ’70s, and dives into the work of Lucrecia Martel, Jessica Hausner and Marjane Satrapi.
Work may seem too unglamorous a subject for cinema, but as narrator Jane Fonda tells us, some of the most compelling scenes show working life, in films such as American Honey, the silent Russian masterpiece Women of Ryazan, Venezuela’s Araya, Patty Jenkins’ Monster and Mary Harron’s American Psycho.
Another element of everyday life. From silent cinema to the 21st century, from the visually astonishing The Enchanted Desna to Divorce Iranian Style and Bigelow’s Strange Days, a wide range of films have drawn their energy and their edge from their political content.
We love to be surprised in films. Narrated by Sharmila Tagore, this short chapter explores surprises of this kind.
Is comedy universal? Who have been the great comic filmmakers around the world? Narrator Sharmila Tagore guides us through scenes from Big starring Tom Hanks, Ida Lupino’s The Trouble with Angels, the wonderful films of Elaine May, the classic Norwegian comedy Fools on the Hill and many more.
As popular a genre as comedy, what are some of the finest scenes in melodrama? Sharmila Tagore tells a story that takes us from the American silent film Shoes to Kira Muratova’s magnificent Chekhov’s Motifs, and from there to Binka Zhelyazkova’s visually striking We Were Young.
Kathryn Bigelow, the films of the Wachowski siblings, Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman, Lori Petty’s Tank Girl, the television series adapted from Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. Our look at science fiction will take us to extraordinary places, to other realms.
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Literal, metaphorical, political: Deepa Mehta’s Earth, Samira Makhmalbaf’s Blackboards, Jennifer Kent’s horror masterpiece The Babadook, Joanna Hogg’s unsettling Archipelago, the Tunisian film The Silences of the Palace and many more.
Thrillers and more. We will examine scenes from films as different as Joel DeMott’s documentary Demon Lover Diary, Kathryn Bigelow’s Blue Steel, Carol Morley’s Dreams of a Life, Mimi Leder’s The Peacemaker and Marleen Gorris’ remarkable A Question of Silence.