Isabelle Tollenaere, BEL 2011, 17’
Carthage, a suburb of Tunis, in March 2011, in the centre of the Arab Spring battlefield: a luxury hotel. Empty beach, empty pool, empty lobby. Everywhere deserted. Just two or three older tourists stayed on during the fighting. Or came back afterwards. Looking at them you wouldn’t guess. They are lying in the sun. As usual. Table tennis. Bar. Nightclub. The dancers come on stage in uniform, and outside a revolutionary graffito says thanks to Facebook. Sunshine, health and fitness, entertainment, internet, revolution, entertainment, health and fitness, sunshine.
I‘m not dead, only asleep / Żyję, tylko śpię, 25'
Juan Sebastian Lopez Maas, NED 2011, 25’
An ass was the only animal upon which Jesus rode. It is a holy animal. Here a donkey wanders as if through a biblical landscape. Vultures circle overhead. The animal dies alone. Its lower jaw be comes a musical instrument. The Afro-Peruvian tap dancer and Cajun musician Amador Ballumbrosio, who died in 2009, knew that, like everyone here, he would return as a donkey. At his funeral, instead of weeping and mourning, the people danced and made music as he did. On donkey teeth.
Abuelas / Babcie, 9'
The grandmother’s apartment is a reconstruction. Things from a previous life bought from flea-markets in Buenos Aires. Photos of people who have vanished are imagined. Previous conversations with other grandmothers about the years between 1976 and 1983 are condensed to a poetic level. Everything is animated, but true. Only thus does the unthinkable become portrayable: 30,000 children, women and men disappeared during the dictatorship of General Videla and were never seen again. The babies born in internment camps were handed over to families in the service of the military and terror. To this day their grandmothers are still searching for them.