Archive for the ‘Videos & Images’ Category

The new video “Khaled’s Ladder” documents the journey of multidisciplinary artist Khaled Jarrar along the U.S.-Mexico border and the making of his new work that takes the border wall as its raw material.

‘ I do it in the name of art, and I like how art gives us all this freedom and space to practice our creativity on the ground, not just on paper. This is how we can raise the questions and tell the stories that lead to solutions that will allow us to go beyond borders.’

On January 27, Khaled Jarrar set out on an uncommon journey: traveling in a 34-foot RV from San Diego, California, to Juarez, Mexico, crisscrossing and following the U.S.-Mexico border along the way. Jarrar was traveling as part of Culturunners, a project initiated by Edge of Arabia in partnership with Art Jameel, in which artists travel from place to place in order to explore contested boundaries. On the journey the group encountered border patrol agents on both sides of the border, met and worked with locals living near the border, and organized talks at galleries and public spaces. During his time on the road, Jarrar created and installed a new work, Khaled’s Ladder, using material pulled from the border fence. Coming from his home in the West Bank, where the Israeli separation wall shapes daily life and restricts freedom of movement, Khaled was alert to the ways in which the U.S.–Mexico border informs the experiences of those who live on either side of it. After completing the RV journey to Juarez, Khaled made the trip to New York and visited the Creative Time offices, where he talked to Creative Time Reports’ associate editor, Rachel Riederer, about his new work and his ongoing interest in dismantling walls and crossing borders.

You can find the full interview  here.

‘No entry’ ???

Posted: March 20, 2016 in Videos & Images

Yesterday, I was yet in another march, another public demonstration, in Trafalgar square. A march standing to refugees but not only… standing to all the people that have suffered from wars, from injustice, from racism and fascism and are still suffering.

People that have died from policemen, people who didn’t speak because they thought they didn’t have the power or the right to do so.

People that fight to remain human…

to find a home…

to live.

There, I saw this sign and I laughed for a few seconds… A ‘NO ENTRY’ sign amongst many ‘Refugees are Welcome’.  I found it quite comicotragical (something that makes you laugh and cry at the same time).

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A sign that was placed there by the government… by the mayor of London, by the Greater London Authority as it states. By those in ‘power’, those who make the rules (?) The laws (?)

Then I thought that here’s the problem. Not in that specific sign of course… But in the way we react.

Even if thousands or millions of us are holding signs, shouting, demonstrating, marching, voting, THEY will still be the ones that pass the laws, that close the borders, the ones that decide based on their profits (and the capitalist system that nurtures them) and not on humans lives or children’s dreams…

Maybe we should gradually, powerfully and forcefully take off all these ‘signs’ and create the society we want to be living in…

Maybe…

we should find a way…

 

to change.

 

No one leaves Home…

Posted: March 20, 2016 in Videos & Images

Home‘ written by Warsan Shire :

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.

no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.

you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied

no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough

the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off

or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important

no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i don’t know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here.

 

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Inspiring, clever, thought-provoking, political, significant art. That talks to the people through people.

‘The Iranian director is still officially barred from film-making, but enterprisingly gets around the restriction by filming inside a car, to produce a beautifully humane fable

Jafar Panahi in Taxi

The Iranian auteur and democracy campaigner Jafar Panahi has once again found a way around the state ban on him as a film-maker with a new movie at a European festival. This new film is technically without credits and so evidently cannot be officially attributed to him as a director – although it is obvious enough, and perhaps the government realise that enforcing the ban would make them look absurd, especially in the light of Iran’s new detente with the west.

Taxi is a good-humoured jeu d’esprit, a piece of freewheeling cinephile activism, and a kind of career selfie – Panahi is certainly not burdened with any false modesty. It’s a rueful but insistent statement to the effect that he is down but not out. He is still here, still commenting on Iran’s heavy-handed system of injustice, still shooting movies, on digital cameras, on mobile phones, on anything with a memory stick. There are allusions to his own earlier films, like Crimson Gold and Offside.

The premise, or joke, is that Jafar Panahi is now reduced to driving a cab. The great director is now at the wheel of a very modest car (it embarrasses his niece when he picks her up from school) driving around Tehran, and actors, non-professionals and friends of Panahi improvise roles as passengers, hopping in, often sharing a ride, sometimes just needed to go a couple of blocks; oddly, they rarely specify an address. And Panahi is a hopeless cabbie, often not knowing where places are, though his garrulous customers seem not to care too much, because he often lets them off the fare. He films his passengers from a locked-off camera position on the dashboard and the conceit is that this is the security video camera to prevent him from getting robbed; later we will see exactly how effective that is. And this gallery of people give us a moving snapshot of modernIran, and how everyone is feeling about crime and punishment and the way they live now.

Taxi film still
Photograph: Berlinale/Photoshot

In some ways, Taxi is in a classic subgenre of Iranian cinema virtually invented by Abbas Kiarostami: the scene, or entire film, shot inside a car, in movies like Ten (2002) or Taste Of Cherry (1997). The interior of car is both inside and outside, both private yet out in public, both stationary yet moving. It allows a kind of fleeting candour, even intimacy between strangers.

The characters who demand a ride are partly comic: one lady is actually carrying a goldfish in an open bowl. A sobbing woman asks him to carry her bruised and bleeding husband (injured in a road accident) to hospital, and this poor man insists that Panahi’s other passenger films him in his mobile phone reciting his will, leaving all his money to his wife and denying his brothers everything; his wife demands a copy of this important video. This other passenger turns out to be a tricky character who sells pirated videos – and claims to have got Panahi a copy of Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Once Upon a Time in Anatolia.

But other characters succeed in raising more important ideas. A teacher and a dodgy young guy argue about how to punish criminals: he’s all for some sharia-style executions; she demands mercy and points out that no one is born a thief. Later, Panahi will talk to a friend who has been attacked in his shop – the man shows him the CCTV footage on his iPad – apparently for standing up for a man and woman who had been caught stealing money. And finally Panahi picks up a friend who is a lawyer, disbarred from practising her trade, in the way that he has been barred from film-making. They discuss the case of Ghonsheh Ghavami, the Iranian woman jailed for trying to attend a men’s volleyball match. Panahi maintains a smilingly fatalistic attitude to all this.

The crucial moment comes when Panahi’s feisty niece reveals she has to make a short film for a school project; she accidentally films a boy taking money that isn’t his and dramatically intervenes in the situation. Could Panahi be playfully showing the authorities how film-makers are a force for good? She informs the bemused Panahi that her teacher has given her rules for making a film which is “distributable” in Iran: at all costs you must avoid “sordid realism”. It’s advice that will amuse any follower of the kind of Iranian film which has found favour on the foreign film-festival circuit – they do indeed, mostly, avoid sordid realism, and offer coded commentary couched in childlike fables. However, Panahi’s films have not avoided realism.

Taxi grew on me. It is not as angry and painful as his previous work, the samizdat This Is Not a Film, but it is subtle, humorous and humane. It tells you more about modern Iran, I think, than you’ll discover on the news.

 

[Source: http://www.theguardian.com/film/2015/feb/06/berlin-2015-film-review-taxi-banned-iran-jafar-panahi ]

2015 in review for A(r)CT

Posted: December 30, 2015 in Videos & Images

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for A(r)CT’s blog!

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 680 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 11 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Deadline @Tate

Posted: December 7, 2015 in Videos & Images

On Saturday 5th December I visited Tate as I heard about the Deadline Festival ; a 3 day arts festival to launch Tate’s deadline year to come off fossil fuels.

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I watched the short play: ‘Tickets are now on sale’ dealing with environmental and not only stereotypes, issues, and other things ‘not to be said’, which undoubtedly reinforced my idea that arts can play a very important role at highlighting the problems and asking the people to react or search for solutions.

After that I had the opportunity to hear some very inspiring people and artists talk about Performance and Power. These were: Michael McMillan , Lucy Neal, Cecilia Wee, Lucy Ellinson and Feimatta Conteh.

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Overall it was such a great idea to push Tate to say no more to BP #dropBP and to motivate and inform people about the dirty deals of one of the  biggest art organisation.

Source: Deadline @Tate , http://deadline.org.uk/

I always found the name false which they gave us: Emigrants.

That means those who leave their country. But we

Did not leave, of our own free will

Choosing another land. Nor did we enter

Into a land, to stay there, if possible for ever.

Merely, we fled. We are driven out, banned.

Not a home, but an exile, shall the land be that took us in.

Restlessly we wait thus, as near as we can to the frontier

Awaiting the day of return, every smallest alteration

Observing beyond the boundary, zealously asking

Every arrival, forgetting nothing and giving up nothing

And also not forgiving anything which happened, forgiving nothing

Ah, the silence of the Sound does not deceive us! We hear the shrieks

From their camp even here. Yes, we ourselves

Are almost like rumours of crimes, which escaped

Over the frontier. Every one of us

Who with torn shoes walks through the crowd

Bears witness to the shame which now defiles our land.

But none of us

Will stay here. The final word

Is yet unspoken.

Bertolt Brecht
1898-1956