Play-Doc 2013 by Play-Doc

BENVIDOS Á 9a EDICIÓN! A realidade é poliédrica; ambigua, complexa, chea de paradoxos e contradicións. Intentar reflectila de maneira fiel é unha labor ben difícil. Se cadra o único camiño xenuíno para capturar a súa esencia sexa o da honestidade. Alí onde a obxectividade non é máis que unha cuestión de integridade persoal e onde non existen respostas; tan só preguntas, procesos, incertezas e procuras. Pode que entón poidamos albiscar algo desa realidade intricada e inasible. Que descubramos tamén sen sorpresa, que na historia de cada individuo está escrita a historia de toda a humanidade. É ese recoñecerse no outro, esa empatía fundamental, o que impregna o programa que vos ofrecemos nesta novena edición de Play-Doc. Porque ao cabo o cinema non é máis que o acto de mirar e mirarse a un mesmo. De ver e de reflectirse. Agardamos que vos guste a experiencia,

Play-Doc Reality is polyhedral, ambiguous, complex, and full of paradoxes and contradictions. To try to capture it in a faithful way is a difficult task. Perhaps the only real way to capture its essence is through honesty. Where objectivity is nothing more than an issue of personal integrity and where there are no answers, but merely questions, processes, uncertainties, and explorations. It may then be possible to glimpse something of that intricate and elusive reality. And also to discover, not unexpectedly, that the story of every individual tells the story of all mankind. It is this ability to recognize oneself in the other, this fundamental empathy, which permeates the programme of the ninth edition of Play-Doc. Ultimately, cinema is nothing more than the act of looking inside and outside of oneself. To be able to see what is there and see ourselves. We hope you enjoy the experience,

Play-Doc

How can the experience of presenting work in a film festival be both calming and

exhilarating? Somehow, that’s what Play-Doc was for me. It has much to do with the welcoming environment of Galicia, which provides a relaxed context in which to take in films and discuss them with friends and neighbors. Not to say that festivalgoers were not challenged by the films that were shown. The work of the Armenian filmmaker Artavazd Pelechian - whose work is both lyrical and rigorously uncompromising - was surely a discovery for most people who attended. But for me, aside from the pleasure I had of presenting my films to an inquisitive and engaged audience, I loved how the festival could then continue into the night as we retreated for wonderful meals and talk in nearby restaurants - sometimes with interested audience members in town. And sometimes even into the next day, floating down the Miño River and sipping albariño. Documentary filmmaker nirvana. Viva Play-doc!

Como é posible que a experiencia de presentar as túas obras nun festival sexa

á vez relaxante e estimulante? Dalgunha maneira iso é o que Play-Doc foi para min. Ten moito que ver co ambiente acolledor de Galicia, que ofrece un contexto distendido para poder ver películas e charlar sobre elas con amigos e veciños. Non quere dicir que as películas que se mostraban non foran un reto para os asistentes. O traballo do realizador armenio Artavazd Pelechian -cuxa obra é radicalmente poética e sen concesións- foi, de seguro, un descubrimento para a maioría. Pero, ademais do pracer de presentar as miñas películas a unha audiencia entregada e curiosa, encantoume como o festival podía continuar nas noites, mentres cenabamos pratos deliciosos e charlabamos nos restaurantes próximos -ás veces mesmo na compañía de persoas de entre o público. E ás veces mesmo á mañá seguinte, flotando sobre o río Miño e degustando un albariño. O nirvana dos documentaristas. Viva Play-Doc!

Ross McElwee

ÍNDICE 6 SECCIÓN OFICIAL / COMPETITION 9 XURADO / JURY 11 OS IRMÁNS MAYSLES / THE MAYSLES BROTHERS 18 NICOLÁS GUILLÉN LANDRIÁN 26 CINEMA GALEGO / GALICIAN CINEMA 32 O RETRATO FILMADO / THE FILMED PORTRAIT 34 PLAY-DOC LIVE 1906! 36 ORGANIZACIÓN / CREDITS 37 COLABORADORES / SPONSORS 38 TUI 39 HORARIO / SCHEDULE

SECCIÓN OFICIAL

competition

SAN ZIMEI - ALONE TRES IRMÁS - SOAS

xoves Thursday ás 20:30h

Wang Bing / 89’ / 2012 / Francia–Hong Kong

Dirección: Wang Bing Produción: Sylvie Faguer, Mao Hui Produtora: Album Productions, Chinese Shadows Montaxe: Louise Prince Cámara: Huang Wenhai, Li Peifeng, Wang Bing Son: Antoine Fournier En colaboración con: Arte France–La Lucarne Contacto:Chinese Shadows chineseshadows@gmail.com

Tres irmás viven soas nunha pequena aldea das montañas da rexión de Iunnan. Os seus pais non están. As tres pequenas pasan os seus días traballando no campo ou vagabundeando pola vila. Como a súa tía non pode seguir alimentándoas, o pai regresa á casa para levar as máis pequenas consigo á cidade, onde traballa, deixando á maior das fillas ao coidado do seu avó. Three sisters live alone in a small village family house in the high mountains of the Yunnan region. Their parents are nowhere to be seen. The three little girls spend their days working in the fields or wandering in the village. As their aunt finds difficult to provide food to the girls, the father returns to the village. He has come to take the girls with him to the city but he then agrees to leave the older one under the supervision of her grandfather.

POSLEDNATA LINEIKA NA SOFIA A ÚLTIMA AMBULANCIA DE SOFÍA Ilian Metev / 75’ / 2012 / Alemaña-Bulgaria-Croacia

xoves Thursday ás 22:30h

Dirección: Ilian Metev Produción: Dimitar Gotchev, Siniša Juri Čić, Ilian Metev, Ingmar Trost Montaxe: Ilian Metev, Betina Ip Fotografía: Ilian Metev Son: Dominic Fitzgerald Distribución: Films Boutique Contacto: Films Boutique info@filmsboutique.com

Acompañamos a Krassi, Mila e Plamen nunha xornada de traballo ordinaria. Eles son o equipo de paramédicos dunha das 13 ambulancias que hai en Sofía, unha cidade con máis de dous millóns de habitantes. Convertidos en heroes inimaxinables, os nosos tres protagonistas fuman empedernidamente, mentres salvan vidas contra vento e marea, sen perder nunca o sentido do humor. Porén, o inmenso estrés ao que están sometidos pronto empezará a pasarlles factura. In a city where 13 ambulances struggle to serve 2 million people, Krassi, Mila and Plamen are our unlikely heroes: chain-smoking, filled with humour and relentlessly saving lives against all odds. Yet, the strain of a broken system is taking its toll. How long can they keep on fixing society’s injured until they loose their empathy?

LE LIBRAIRE DE BELFAST O LIBREIRO DE BELFAST Alessandra Celesia / 54’ / 2012 / Francia–Irlanda

venres Friday ás 22:30h

Dirección: Alessandra Celesia Produción: Michel David, John McIlduff Montaxe: Adrien Faucheux Fotografía: Ray Carling Son: David Kilpatrick, Guillaume Beauron, Simon Kerr, Michael McKnight Distribución: Zeugma Films Contacto: Zeugma Films distribution@zeugma-films.fr

Un libreiro sen tenda, un rapeiro cuberto de cicatrices, un punk disléxico, amante da ópera, unha aspirante a cantante, un colchón demasiado grande para unha cama, outra ameaza de bomba... As escaleiras da casa de John Clancy están repletas de centos de libros sen vender, como a Arca de Noé da Sabedoría, que conta historias dunha cidade que coñeceu tempos peores. John Clancy ábrese camiño a través das páxinas que o tempo e o fume do tabaco amarillearon. A bookseller without a shop, a scar covered rapper, a dyslexic, opera loving punk, a wannabe popstar, a mattress too big for a bed, another bombscare... The staircases of John Clancy’s terraced house are filled with hundreds of unsold volumes like a Noah’s Ark of Knowledge telling the stories of a city that has known stormier times. John Clancy treads a new path through the pages yellowed by time and cigarette smoke.

ARRAIANOS

sábado Saturday ás 16:30h Unha película filmada nunha pequena vila nas montañas da fronteira galaico-portuguesa. Momentos de ficción conviven co cotián dos seus habitantes, confundindo realidade, mitos e soños. Un día, aparece un estraño e anuncia unha incerta profecía: a posibilidade dun cambio, unha saída, unha forma de purificación... Que queda tras o final, cando todo foi consumido?

Eloy Enciso / 70’ / 2012 / Galicia

Dirección: Eloy Enciso Cachafeiro Guión: Eloy Enciso Cachafeiro e José Manuel Sande (A partir da obra “O bosque” de Jenaro Marinhas do Val) Produtores: Carlos Esbert e Eloy Enciso Cachafeiro Produtores asociados: Felipe Lage Coro, José Manuel Sande e Beli Martínez Montaxe: Manuel Muñoz Fotografa e cámara: Mauro Herce Son directo: César Fernández e Joaquín Pachón Mesturas de son: Vasco Pimentel e Tiago Matogueiras Dir. de actores: Manolo Fontemoura Directora de produción: Rocío Cabrera Intérpretes: Eulalia González, Aurora Salgado, Celsa Araujo, Antonio Ferreira Contacto: Zeitun Films info@zeitunfilms.com

A film shot in a small village located on the Galicia-Portugal border. Moments of fiction stand alongside everyday village life, a world where reality, myths and dreams merge and live together. One day, a stranger appears announcing an uncertain prophecy: the possibility of change, a way out, a mean of purification... What is left after the end, when all has been consumed?

THE PATRON SAINTS OS SANTOS PATRÓNS

Melanie ShatzkyBrian M. Cassidy / 72’ / 2011 / EUA-Canadá

venres Friday ás 18:30h

Dirección: Brian M. Cassidy, Melanie Shatzky Produción: Brian M. Cassidy, Melanie Shatzky Produtora: Pigeon Projects Montaxe: Brian M. Cassidy, Melanie Shatzky Fotografía: Brian M. Cassidy Son: Nicholas Sjostrom Contacto: Pigeon Projects info@pigeonprojects.com

Chea de humor negro, The Patron Saints é un documental nada ortodoxo sobre unha residencia para anciáns e incapacitados. Os directores evitan calquera aproximación tradicional ao tema, optando por un tratamento atmosférico e hipnótico e outorgando o poder da narración ao paciente máis novo e as súas cándidas confesións. Laced with black humor, The Patron Saints is an unorthodox documentary about a home for the aged and disabled. By turns lyrical and unsettling, the directors eschew more traditional approaches to the subject, opting for a mesmerizing atmospheric treatment and turning narration over to the home’s youngest patient and his candid confessions.

XURADO JURY Hans Hurch Schärding, Austria Estudou Historia da arte, Filosofía e Arqueoloxía na Universidade de Viena. Traballou para o xornal Falter , como editor e responsable do departamento cultural, centrado na música, a fotografía e o cinema. Actualmente escribe para numerosos medios internacionais. Entre 1986 e 1990 colaborou e foi asistente de dirección de Jean-Marie Straub e Danièle Huillet, en Der Tod des Empedokles (1987), Schwarze Sünde (1989), e Antigone (1992). Tamén realizou xunto a Astrid Johanna Ofner os documentais Jetzt und in alle Zeit e Ins Leere (ambos en1993). Desde 1997, Hans é director da Viennale, Vienna International Film Festival. From 1972 studies History of Art, Philosophy and Archaeology at the University of Vienna. From 1976 until 1986 he was editorial journalist at the Vienna newspaper “Falter”, head of cultural department, editor for music, photography and film, writes for various international newspapers. From 1986 until 2000 collaborator and assistant director at theatre and film works from Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet, “Der Tod des Empedokles” (1987), “Schwarze Sünde” (1989), “Antigone” (1992). From 1990 until 1992 in Berlin, working together with Astrid Johanna Ofner on the documentaries “Jetzt und in alle Zeit” and “Ins Leere” (both 1993). Since 1997 director of the VIENNALE Vienna International Film Festival.

Luís Miguel Oliveira Tomar, Portugal Licenciado en Comunicación Social pola Facultade de Ciencias Sociais e Humanas da Universidade Nova de Lisboa. Desde 1993 integra o servizo de programación (designado actualmente como o Departamento de Exposición Permanente) da Cinemateca Portuguesa. Tamén escribe como crítico cinematográfico para o diario portugués Público, desde 1994. Graduated in Social Communication by Universidade Nova de Lisboa. Since 2009 he is the Head of Programming of the Permanent Exhibition Department at the Portuguese Cinematheque, where he programs since 1993. He also writes as a film critic for Público newspaper since 1994.

Nick Bradshaw Londres, Reino Unido Nick Bradshaw é editor web de Sight & Sound, a revista de cinema internacional do Instituto de Cinema Británico. Tamén foi editor en Time Out London e Plan b magazine. Escribiu para numerosos medios como The Guardian online, the Independent, the Telegraph, the Times, Sunday Times, LA Weekly, the Village Voice ou Vertigo. É ademais co-autor de The DVD Stack (Canongate, 2006/07). O seu interese abarca desde o documental, pasando pola animación, as curtametraxes, as comedias da era dourada de Hollywood, ata diversos tipos de cinema experimental. Nick é tamén realizador de documentais ocasional, cun Master en Belas Artes, polo California Institute of the Arts. Traballa nun proxecto de documental, ensaio sobre o estado de abandono dos cinemas en Broadway. Tuitea habitualmente en @nickkinocritic. Nick Bradshaw is Web Editor for Sight & Sound, the British Film Institute’s international film magazine. Formerly film editor at both Time Out London and the late plan b magazine, he has also written for the Guardian online, the Independent, the Telegraph, the Times, Sunday Times, LA Weekly, the Village Voice and Vertigo, and is co-author of The DVD Stack (Canongate, 2006/07). His interests span documentary, animation, shorts, Golden Age Hollywood comedies and various kinds of experimental movies. He is a sometime documentary filmmaker, with a MFA in Film and Video from the California Institute of the Arts, and an unfinished essay documentary about the derelict movie theatres of Broadway, Los Angeles, at the back of his mind. He tweets @nickkinocritic.

OS IRMÁNS MAYSLES the Maysles brothers O tempo da inocencia por Nicolas Azalbert

Na ampla corrente de reconsideracións sociais que sacudiron a xeración da posguerra nos Estados Unidos, o cinema directo (direct cinema) achegou un novo enfoque do real baseado na verdade ontolóxica vinculada á gravación mecánica do cinema, e socavada durante todos aqueles anos de propaganda. A aparición de cámaras máis lixeiras e do son sincrónico permitiu planos máis próximos á realidade dos acontecementos. Filme fundador do cinema directo, Primary de Robert Drew (1960) segue de préto a campaña de John F. Kennedy e Hubert Humphrey, os dous aspirantes demócratas nas eleccións primarias de Wisconsin. Con son directo, cámara móbil e ausencia de comentarios e entrevistas, Primary inaugura unha nova práctica do documental que desenvolverán, cada un ao seu xeito, os tres camarógrafos do filme: Richard Leacock, Donn Alan Pennebaker e Albert Maysles. É interesante como os seus distintos enfoques da sociedade estadounidense se explican en grande medida pola formación de cada un. Físico, Leacock tratou de captar a obxectividade do cotián (Petey and Johnny, The Chair, Happy Mother’s Day). Enxeñeiro electrónico, Pennebaker apaixonouse polo mundo do rock (Don’t Look Back, Monterey Pop). Xurista, Frederick Wiseman ―o último en unirse ao movemiento― preferiu desentrañar os mecanismos das institucións (Titicut Follies, Law and Order, Juvenile Court). Psicólogo, Albert Maysles distinguiuse polo seu don para compartir a intimidade dos suxeitos filmados (ben fosen celebridades, ben persoas anónimas), para «humanizalos», comprendelos e, por extensión, amalos. Segundo declara el mesmo: «Penso que o meu desexo de facer películas afianzouse en 1955, cando logrei conseguir un visado para viaxar á URSS. Eu era psicólogo de profesión daquela e pareceume boa idea aproveitar a viaxe para visitar hospitais psiquiátricos e gardar un testemuño. Non estou moi dotado para a escritura, mais desenvólvome ben coa cámara, e levaba unha comigo. Poder dar coas autoridades soviéticas naquela época para conseguir os permisos foi case un milagre, e a experiencia subxugoume. Nos Estados Unidos contabamos con escasos testemuños da vida na URSS daquela; amais das especulacións sobre a vida e a política tras do Pano de Aceiro, non tiñamos contacto co pobo que criamos o inimigo».

Psychiatry in Russia, realizado en 1955, non goza aínda dos avances tecnolóxicos que terían despoxado ao filme de certo formalismo, coma foi o caso posterior de Showman (1963). De Nova York ao festival de Cannes, os irmáns Maysles (con Albert na cámara e David ao son, a produción e a montaxe) penetran nas interioridades do negocio do cinema e na intimidade de Joe Levine, o produtor estadounidense de Le Mépris, de Jean-Luc Godard. Asesorado por Barbet Schroeder, Godard colaborou amais con Maysles na curtametraxe Montparnasse-Levallois (sketch de Paris vu par) de 1965. Godard propúxolle filmar a súa historia coma se se tratase dunha reportaxe sobre un suceso real, un mini suceso da realidade sentimental cotiá. O cineasta chamouno ActionFilm (seguindo o modelo da Action-Sculpture de Hiquilly): cando o azar se inmisciu na elaboración do filme e determina o encontro coa realidade. Segundo Godard: «Albert Maysles obrou coma un reporteiro de televisión, coma se se enfrontase a un suceso real, e sen manipulalo o máis mínimo. Eu limiteime a tratar de organizalo o mellor posible, e non de axustalo como nunha posta en escena». O que para Godard só foi unha experiencia, para os irmáns Maysles foi o que rexería o seu cinema, onde a diferencia do filme de Godard, os feitos reais son vividos como ficcións. En Salesman (1969) filman ao natural as aventuras traxicómicas de catro representantes comerciais de biblias. Porén, o real gravado reorganízase na montaxe como unha narración de ficción. O documental sobre Truman Capote, With Love From Truman (1966), realizado con motivo da publicación de A Sangre Fría, confirma este proceso. O enfoque non ficcional da novela corresponde a unha procura común a ambos irmáns. Nunha entrevista de 1966 cos irmáns Maysles, Jonas Mekas constata o paralelo entre o libro de Capote e o cinema directo. Porén, para David Maysles hai unha diferencia: «No seu libro, Capote tivo que volver atrás, a antes de que os feitos se produciran. Cando se perpetrou o asasinato, tivo que descubrir que pasara, como sucedera. Tivo que volver atrás e reconstruír a historia, o que nós non fixemos». Maysles non podía sospeitar daquela que acertado era o seu comentario. En Gimme Shelter (1970), Maysles terminaría filmando en directo o asasinato dun mozo negro a mans dun dos Anxos do Inferno durante o concerto dos Rolling Stones en Altamont (California). Con este filme, os irmáns Maysles rodan a fin do soño hippie, a fin dunha época, o punto de inflexión entre un antes e un despois. Abonda con ver como se contemplan a si mesmos os membros do grupo na pantalla da sala de montaxe para decatarse de que estamos no despois. Os Rolling Stones intentan comprender como sucedeu todo e como puido suceder (a diferencia con Capote que menciona Maysles esvaécese aquí). O que termina con Gimme Shelter é o vento de liberdade que soprara nos anos sesenta, certo candor que permitira que os irmáns Maysles seguiran de préto a intimidade das estrelas. A proximidade e a complicidade que conseguen desenvolver cos Beatles, Joe Levine ou Truman Capote son sinxelamente inimaxinables hoxe en día. Os irmáns Maysles souberon estar no lugar e no momento oportunos. A maxia dos seus filmes supera as aptitudes intrínsecas destes e ofrece un testemuño directo dun efémero estado de gracia. A partir de What’s Happening! The Beatles in the USA (1964), a figura do artista alcanza cotas ilimitadas de fetichización e mediatización. Porén, os irmáns Maysles aínda poden achegarse ás estrelas mantendo a distancia a histeria mediática (a cámara está dentro do coche cos Beatles; os fans e os xornalistas, fóra). En Meet Marlon Brando (1966) filman unha entrevista do actor cunha xornalista do Newsweek. Ao integrar as cámaras e os xornalistas nos seus filmes, os irmáns Maysles conseguen pasar desapercibidos, reforzando así a sensación de proximidade coas celebridades e deixándoas totalmente ao seu. Agora ben, sempre se repite o mesmo patrón. Os «personaxes» dos irmáns Maysles sempre teñen algo que vender: unha xira (a dos Beatles non é senón unha tremenda operación de marketing), Biblias (en Salesman), un libro (A Sangre Fría) ou un filme (Joe Levine vendendo La Ciociara, Marlon Brando vendendo Morituri). Co tempo, as persoas filmadas perden a inocencia ante as cámaras e acaban incorporándose á sociedade do espectáculo. Con Grey Gardens (1975) termina a época clásica do cinema directo. As relacións entre Edith Bouvier Beale e a súa filla, filmadas polos irmáns Maysles na decadente mansión destas, achéganse a unha representación teatral de ambas e preconizan os comezos da telerrealidade. As dúas mulleres, ao ofrecerse como espectáculo (e ao implicar os cineastas), son conscientes de ser suxeitos filmados, e aprovéitano. En adiante, os irmáns Maysles non teñen que filmar o real, posto que o real xa é en si pura ficción. Grey Gardens, ou a inocencia pervertida.

The time of innocence by Nicolás Azalbert

In the wave of social changes that shook the postwar generation in the United States, Direct Cinema contributed a new perspective on reality based on the ontological truth that cinema and its mechanical recording could provide, having been undermined by years of propaganda. The emergence of lighter cameras as well as synchronic sound allowed for shots which were closer to real events. Robert Drew’s Primary (1960) is a primordial film for Direct Cinema and it follows closely the electoral primaries involving John F. Kennedy and Hubert Humphrey, the two Democrat candidates in the Wisconsin primary. With live sound, light-weight cameras, and an absence of commentary and interviews, Primary initiated a new way of making documentaries which three cameramen would further develop: Richard Leacock, Donn Alan Pennebaker, and Albert Maysles. It is interesting to see how their different takes on US society can be explained by their background. Leacock, a physicist, tried to capture the objective reality of everyday life (Peter and Johnny, The Chair, Happy Mother’s Day). Pennebaker, an electrical engineer, was passionate about the world of rock and roll (Don’t Look Back, Monterey Pop). Having trained as a lawyer, Fredrick Wiseman was the last to join the movement and he preferred to uncover institutional mechanisms (Titicut Follies, Law and Order, Juvenile Court). Albert Maysles, a psychologist, became known for his gift of capturing his subjects (celebrities or ordinary people) during intimate moments, in order to humanise, comprehend, and love them. Maysles himself said, “I believe that my desire to make films began in 1955 when I managed to get a visa and travel to the USSR. I was then a professional psychologist and I thought it would be a good idea to visit psychiatric hospitals and record what I saw. I am not a gifted writer, but I can handle a camera, which I had one with me at the time. Being able to speak to the right Soviet authorities at that time in order to get the permits was almost a miracle, and I was immediately captivated by the experience. In the United States we had little evidence of life in the USSR at that time; apart from speculating on life and politics behind the Iron Curtain, we had no contact at all with the people that we thought were our enemies”. Psychiatry in Russia, filmed in 1955, did not make use of the technological development that would have rid it of a certain formalism, as would later be the case with Showman (1963). From New York to the Cannes Festival, the Maysles brothers (Albert with the camera and David handling the sound, production, and editing) penetrated the intricacies of the film business and the private side of Joe Levine, the American producer of Jean Luc Godard’s Le Mépris. Advised by Barbet Schroeder, Godard collaborated with Maysles on the short film Monparnasse-Lavallois (sketch of Paris vu par) of 1965. Godard proposed to him to film his story as if were a report on a true event, an episode of everyday life and feelings. The film-maker called it Action-Film (after Hiquilly’s Action-Sculpture): in it, chance starts to play a role in the making of the film to the extent that it determines the encounter with reality. According to Godard: “Albert Maysles worked like a TV reporter, as if he were dealing with a real event and without any manipulation. I limited myself to organizing it in the best possible way, without staging it like a normal scene”. What for Godard was just one experience, to the Maysles brothers it was the beginning of what their cinema would be, where, in contrast to Godard’s film, real events are treated as if they were fictions. In Salesman (1969), they portray the tragicomic misadventures of four bible salesmen. Nevertheless, these recordings of real life were edited as if the film were a narrative fiction. The documentary about Truman Capote, With Love From Truman (1966), filmed to coincide with the publication of In Cold Blood, bears witness to this process. The non-fictional perspective of the novel corresponds to the quest shared by the two brothers. In an interview of 1966 with the Maysles brothers, Jonas Mekas drew a parallel between Capote’s book and Direct Cinema. However, for David Maysles there was a difference: “In his book, Capote had to go back, that is, before the events had taken place. When the murder was committed he had to discover what had happened, and how it had happened. He had to go back and reconstruct the story; something that we did not do”. Maysles could not have known how right he was in his comment.

In Gimme Shelter (1970), Maysles ended up capturing on camera the murder of a young black man by a Hell’s Angel during a Rolling Stones concert in Altamont (California). With this film, the Maysles brothers filmed the end of the hippie dream, the end of an era, a watershed. One only has to see how the band members look at themselves on the screen of the editing room to see that it is already “post-watershed”. The Rolling Stones try to comprehend how everything happened and how it could have happened (the difference with Capote mentioned by Maysles seems to blur here). What Gimme Shelter represents the end of is the wind of freedom that had blown in the 60s, a certain innocence that had enabled the Maysles brothers to capture the private lives of the stars. The proximity and complicity that they achieved with The Beatles, Joe Levine, and Truman Capote, became unimaginable after this point. The Maysles brothers knew how to be in the right place at the right time. The magic of their films goes beyond their intrinsic qualities, offering direct testimony of an ephemeral state of grace. After with What’s Happening! The Beatles in the USA (1964), the figure of the artist became unimaginably fetishized and mediatized. However, the Maysles brothers were still able to approach the celebrities by distancing themselves from the media-driven hysteria (the camera is inside The Beatles’ car; the fans and the journalists are outside). In Meet Marlon Brando (1966), they film an interview of the actor with a journalist from Newsweek. By capturing the cameras and the journalists in their films, the Maysles brothers were able to remain unnoticed, thus reinforcing the sensation of their proximity to the celebrities and putting the latter at their ease. Now, it is easy to see that the pattern is always the same one. The “characters” of the Maysles brothers always have something to sell: a tour (The Beatles’s tour was nothing but a gigantic marketing campaign), bibles (in the Salesman), a book (In Cold Blood), or a film (Joe Levine selling Two Women; Marlon Brando selling Morituri). With time, the people being filmed lose their innocence before the camera and become part of the showbusiness spectacle. Grey Gardens (1975) marked the end of the classical era of Direct Cinema comes to an end. Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter, filmed by the Maysles brothers in the women’s decadent mansion, almost theatrically portray their relationship and one can perceive a foreshadow of reality TV. The two women, by offering themselves as a spectacle (and involving the filmmakers as well), are conscious of being filmed, and thus they take advantage of it. From then on, the Maysles brothers did not have to film reality, since reality had become a fiction in itself. Grey Gardens, or innocence lost.

ESPECIAL

OS IRMÁNS MAYSLES the Maysles brothers

PSYCHIATRY IN RUSSIA

En 1955, Albert Maysles viaxou por Rusia, cámara en man. Alí rodaría a que sería a súa primeira película, Psychiatry in Russia, unha mirada sen precedentes ás institucións mentais da antiga Unión Soviética. Orixinalmente televisouse no show de David Garroway na NBC-TV, en 1956.

In 1955, Albert Maysles traveled to Russia, 16mm camera in hand. During this trip, he shot what was to become his first film, Psychiatry in Russia, an unprecedented view into Soviet mental healthcare. Originally televised by the David Garroway Show on NBC-TV in 1956.

What’s Happening! The Beatles in the USA recolle, de maneira humorística, cándida e pouco convencional, a chegada dos Beatles a América en febreiro de 1964. Os Maysles seguiron os “Fab Four” durante cinco días, desde a recepción entolecida no aeroporto JFK, os seus momentos íntimos dentro do hotel Plaza, preparando a súa mítica aparición no show de Ed Sullivan, ata o seu regreso de volta á casa, tamén entre multitudes histéricas. Este filme que inspirou A Hard Day’s Night (1964) de Richard Lester, reeditouse en 1999 por Apple Corps. baixo o título de The Beatles: The First US Visit.

A humorous, freewheeling and candid account of The Beatles arrival in America in February 1964. The Maysles follow the Fab Four for five days, from the crazed JFK airport reception to unguarded moments inside the Plaza Hotel in preparation for their landmark Ed Sullivan Show appearance to their equally frenzied homecoming. Inspiring Richard Lester’s A Hard Day’s Night (1964),What’s Happening! The Beatles in the U.S.A. was subsequently rereleased by Apple Corps. in an edited version as The Beatles: The First US Visit. (1999)

Dirixido por: Albert Maysles. 14’ / 1955 domingo Sunday ás 18:30h

WHAT’S HAPPENING! THE BEATLES IN THE USA

Dirixido por: Albert e David Maysles. Un filme de: Albert Maysles, David Maysles, Susan Fromke, Kathy Dougherty. Filmada por: Albert Maysles y David Maysles. Producida por: Susan Fromke y Neil Aspinall. Editada por: Kathy Dougherty. 10’ / 1967 mércores Wednesday ás 20:30h

WITH LOVE FROM TRUMAN

Dirixido por: Albert Maysles, David Maysles e Charlotte Zwerin. 29’ / 1966

With Love From Truman relata o encontro íntimo co celebre escritor Truman Capote. Coa súa voz áspera e encantadora, a súa gran autoestima, a súa filosofía á moda e os seus chistes calculados, Capote fala sobre o seu último libro, A Sangre Fría, novela que como el mesmo declara, inaugura un novo xénero literario: a novela de non-ficción. Ao igual que o cinema dos irmáns Maysles, que convirte historias verdadeiras en relatos, Capote esfórzase por transformar a realidade en arte.

With Love From Truman portrays an intimate meeting with renowned author Truman Capote. As a reporter interviews him in his beachfront home, Capote shares his “self-regarding” personality through hip philosophy and calculated jokes. He offers insights in an endearingly raspy voice about his latest book, In Cold Blood, which Capote declares to be part of a new genre, the “non-fiction novel.” Just as the Maysles brothers’ direct cinema classics turn real stories into narratives, Capote’s nonfiction novel makes an effort to turn reality into art.

Considerada a mellor película de rock sobre a mellor banda de rock da historia, este documental segue os Rolling Stones na súa sonada xira americana de 1969, que culminou no tráxico e desastroso concerto de Altamont, en San Francisco. Os Rolling lideraron un concerto gratuíto ante unha multitude estimada de 300.000 persoas. Ike & Tina Turner, Jefferson Airplane, The Flying Burrito Brothers e Santana tamén figuraban no cartel. Preocupados pola súa seguridade, a banda contratou a membros dos Hell’s Angels para manter a orde. Porén, a atmosfera cada vez maior de medo e tensión acabou co apuñalamento e morte dun dos asistentes. A xeración dos hippies, a paz e o amor, convertérase de súpeto na xeración da desilusión e o desengano. Foi o 6 de decembro de 1969, o día que morreron os 60.

Called “the greatest rock film of the greatest rock and roll band,” this landmark documentary follows the Rolling Stones on their notorious 1969 U.S. tour that lead up to the free concert at the Altamont Speedway in San Francisco. Before an estimated crowd of 300,000 people, the Stones headlined a free concert featuring Ike & Tina Turner, Jefferson Airplane, The Flying Burrito Brothers and Santana. Concerned about security, members of outlaw biker gang The Hell’s Angels were asked to help maintain order. Instead, an atmosphere of fear and dread arose, leading ultimately to the stabbing death of a young, gun toting, fan by a member of the Hell’s Angels. What began as a flower-power love-in had degenerated into a near riot; frightened, confused faces wondering how the Love Generation could, in one swift, cold-blooded slash, became a generation of disillusionment and disappointment. December 6, 1969: the day the Sixties died.

domingo Sunday ás 18:30h

GIMME SHELTER

Dirixido por: David Maysles, Albert Maysles e Charlotte Zwerin. Outros editores: Ellen Giffard, Robert Farren, Joanne Burke, Kent McKinney. Produtor asociado: Porter Bibb. 90’ / 1970 sábado Saturday ás 22:30h

SALESMAN

Dirixido por: Albert Maysles, David Maysles e Charlotte Zwerin. 91’ / 1968 venres Friday ás 20:30h

GREY GARDENS

Filmada por: Albert and David Maysles. Dirixido por: David Maysles, Albert Maysles, Ellen Hovde, Muffie Meyer Produtora asociada: Susan Froemke Editoras: Ellen Hovde, Muffie Meyer, Susan Froemke. Produción: The Maysles Brothers, y Portrait Films, Inc. 94’ / 1976 sábado Saturday ás 20:30h

Considerada hoxe en día coma un clásico do cinema directo, Salesman segue a catro vendedores de Biblias a domicilio entre a verborrea e a desesperación. Charlando, presionando, encandilando, contando chistes e historias e adulando, os vendedores repiten o seu discurso a unha ampla variedade de clientes, na súa meirande parte católicos de clase media e baixa. Un retrato sorprendente do soño americano.

Considered ‘the direct cinema classic’ Salesman follows four door-to-door Bible salesmen as they walk the line between hype and despair. Talking, pushing, cajoling, telling jokes and stories, throwing out compliments, the salesmen make their “pitches” to a wide range of customers mostly middle, working-class Catholics. A staggering portrait of the American dream.

Grey Gardens é a historia incrible pero certa de Edith Bouvier Beale e a súa filla Edie, tía e curmá de Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Nai e filla construíron un mundo propio dentro dos muros da súa ruinosa mansión de East Hampton, chamada Grey Gardens. A señora Beale, aristócrata de nacemento, é irmá de Black Jack, o pai de Jacqueline. Little Edie, aspirante a actriz de embriagadora beleza, deixou de lado a súa vida en Nova York para coidar da súa nai e nunca máis se afastaría do seu lado. Xuntas descenderan a unha estraña vida de dependencia e excentricidades da que ninguén fora testemuño ata que chegaron os irmáns Maysles, coa súa cámara de 16mm e equipo de son. Grey Gardens é unha historia de amor agridoce, que mostra a complexa e poderosa relación entre unha nai e unha filla.

Grey Gardens is the unbelievable but true story of Mrs. Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter Edie, the aunt and first cousin of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Mother and daughter live in a world of their own behind the towering privets that surround their decaying 28-room East Hampton mansion known as “Grey Gardens”. Mrs. Beale, a.k.a. “Big Edie,” was a born aristocrat, sister of “Black Jack” Bouvier, Jackie O’s father. “Little Edie” was an aspiring actress of striking beauty who put her New York life on hold to care for her mother - and never left her side again. Together they descended into a strange life of dependence and eccentricity that no one had ever shared until the Maysles arrived with their camera and tape recorder. The film is a bittersweet love story, a record of the powerful and complex relationship between mother and daughter. .

NICOLÁS GUILLÉN LANDRIÁN TRES CARTAS DE NICOLÁS GUILLÉN LANDRIÁN Manuel Zayas

Nos círculos de persoas que o coñecían en Cuba e que perderan todo ligazón con el, a Nicolás Guillén Landrián xa o imaxinaban morto. En febreiro de 2003 -grazas a Alejandro Ríos e a Lara Petusky Coller- souben que o cineasta vivía en Miami e entrei en contacto con el. Os encontros foron só a través do correo electrónico e duraron uns escasos tres meses. Nicolasito aínda non sabía do cancro que acabaría coa súa vida, nin eu me imaxinaba facéndolle un documental post mortem. Pero como sucedeu cos seus filmes, estreados a maioría case trinta anos despois de terminados, na súa vida todo pareceu quedar postergado. Máis que querelo o destino, esa foi a determinación dos ilustres funcionarios da cultura. En 2002 e 2003, a Mostra de Novos Realizadores que auspicia o Instituto Cubano de Arte e Industria Cinematográficos (ICAIC), estreou a maior parte dos seus títulos dentro da sección “Premios á sombra”. No dossier de presentación, aclárase: “Á sombra (frase idiomática): baixo o amparo de// no cárcere// oculto tras// na penumbra// sen sorte, sen fortuna// permanecer oculto a pesar de// posto a un lado// reservado. O descubrimento sorprendeu a non poucos entendidos. Desde entón o nome de Nicolás Guillén Landrián comezou a resoar. Imaxino que algún día figure nos catálogos do cinema cubano. Estas son as únicas tres cartas que se salvaron daquel encontro. Lamento ser tan pouco minucioso en non arquivar toda a correspondencia, en non conservar as datas:

I Estimado Manuel: Os documentais ou mellor dito os títulos dos documentais dos que envías unha lista resulta incompleta. Non sei se quixeches sintetizar. Os títulos son: Homenaje a Picasso, El Morro, Un Festival Deportivo, En un Barrio Viejo, Ociel del Toa, Retornar a Baracoa, Plenaria Campesina, Rita Montaner, Los del Baile, Coffea Arábiga, Desde La Habana -1970- Recordar, Taller de Linea y 18, Un Reportaje en el Puerto Pesquero e Nosotros en el Cuyaguateje que foi o último que eu fixen. Ade mais eu dubido que existan copias de Desde La Habana -1970- Recordar e De Rita Montaner, porque teño entendido que non se copiaron, quedaron en edición de imaxe e son, re-recording, e El Son, do cal non puiden ver nin os rushes. Oxalá que logres un filme obxectivo e exemplar debido ao tema. Saúdos,

Nicolás Guillén Landrián

Esquecín Patio Arenero e Congos Reales debido á présa con que me dirixín a ti hai unhas horas. Non teño conflitos estéticos con ningún dos meus filmes. Todos os conflitos estéticos son resultado dos conflitos conceptuais. Eu quería ser un intérprete da miña realidade. Sempre estiven no vórtice do alleamento. O resultado cabal é cada filme terminado. Non pensaba en facer cinema antes de que existise o ICAIC porque non tiña maneira de lograr un resultado. Pero si fixera unha curta sobre Zanja na Habana na cal fun acompañado por Françoise Sagan. Non se editou. Unha das patrocinadoras deste filme foi a miña nai, Adelina Landrián, que deu diñeiro e comprou a máquina de editar -que non se usou; outra, La Juventud Católica de la Habana. Achegueime ao ICAIC debido a que non tiña ningunha opción laboral na década dos 60. Busquei traballo alí e déronmo. Comecei como asistente de produción e nuns anos fun nomeado director de curtametraxes. A miña formación -apoiada na obra doutros realizadores da Escola Documental: Alberto Roldán, Fernando Villaverde- fíxome optar por temas inmediatos e plausibles. Por isto todos os meus documentais resultaron logo postergados. Fun humillado e proscrito durante toda a miña permanencia no ICAIC e censuraron o meu cinema -dicían- debido ao meu comportamento social. Joris Ivens e Theodor Christensen foron o encontro dunha linguaxe adecuada e superior que de ambos os mestres era inherente. Aprendín moito con ambos: sobre todo, a ser cariñoso coa xente, a actuar con agarimo. Non teño copia de Los del baile, de Nosotros en el Cuyaguateje, de Plenaria Campesina, de Un Festival Deportivo nin de Congos Reales. Saúdos,

Nicolás Guillén Landrián

III Imaxínaste ti o que foi para min verme de súpeto nos calabozos de Vila Marista 1? Vendo, segundo eles, cales eran os meus conflitos ideolóxicos, logo de obter a Espiga de Ouro 2 con Ociel del Toa. E non quedou alí. Mandáronme para unha granxa dous anos; granxa que era para persoal dirixente que mantiña unha conduta impropia. Aí comezou a esquizofrenia de novo, pero máis aguda, que me levou a ser tratado siquiatricamente polos médicos que había na prisión. Eles aconsellaron que fose enviado a un centro onde puidese ser atendido adecuadamente. A continuación, montáronme nun avión, descalzo, co overol da granxa e por enriba dos ombreiros un saco de listas que eu amaba moito. Leváronme de Gerona á Habana, onde fun internado no Hospital Siquiátrico Militar que tiñan aí en Ciudad Libertad. Deste lugar, logo de ser atendido por un siquiatra arxentino, fun enviado baixo prisión domiciliaria a casa dos meus pais, para que terminase de cumprir o tempo que me restaba da sanción, á que fun sometido sen previo xuízo algún, senón por deliberación dun tribunal militar. Logo regresáronme ao ICAIC e o ICAIC encargoume un filme didáctico sobre a colleita do café, tendo en conta a xornada cafetalera que se iniciaba en Cuba neses anos nos que eu saíra de prisión por conduta impropia dun persoal dirixente. E presto dediqueime a facer un ameno documental -divulgativo máis que didáctico, aínda que é didáctico tamén-de todo o que tivera que ver co café e o contexto no que me situaron para facer Coffea Arábiga. Despois de Coffea Arábiga, la folie 3. Non había maneira de que puidese ganduxar con sentido lóxico, en imaxes cinematográficas para min, a présa dos sesenta. O paradoxo é que non había un verdadeiro enfrontamento político pola miña banda, senón unha anuencia muda e cómplice con toda aquela desfeita. Xa lle dixen, amigo, la folie. O meu último re-recording foi o dun documental que titulei Nosotros en el Cuyaguateje. Vivín no ostracismo sesenta e catro anos: desde que teño uso de razón. Polo nome e o apelido. Imaxínate ti que aos festivais internacionais que foron os meus filmes non asistín nunca porque non había conciencia na dirección do ICAIC de que eu puidese representar o cinema cubano, xa que alguén se atreveu a cualificar -parece ser- o meu cinema coma o cinema dun afrancesado. Isto sucedeu con En un Barrio Viejo e todos os responsables medorentos asentiron. En un Barrio Viejo ten unha mención en Cracovia, Polonia, unha mención do xurado, e o premio á ópera prima en Tours, Francia. Así malcomecei e malterminei na Industria de Cinema Cubano. Por ser sometido a isto, penso do ostracismo o peor. Saúdos de Nicolás Guillén Landrián. Amparado no gozo que en min provocaron os seus filmes, comecei a perfilar un mapa da traxectoria fílmica co propio Guillén Landrián, o gran ausente das publicacións e catálogos especializados en cinema e, tamén, o gran descoñecido dalgúns estudiosos foráneos: Michael Chanan en de Cuban Image 4 non menciona sequera o nome do máis maldito dos cineastas cubanos, algo que tampouco fai décadas despois cando reedita aquel volume baixo o título The Cuban Cinema 5. O singular é que, habendo constancia na Cinemateca de Cuba dos 18 documentais da súa autoría, os estudiosos de cinema, se coidasen de citar aquel nome. Antes do desxeo, o único ousado en valorar a sua achega cinematográfica foi José Antonio Évora, que o fixo, para maior pecado, dentro dun artigo que titulou “Santiago Álvarez et le documentaire”, contido no libro Le Cinéma Cubain: “Se se me preguntase cal é para min o mellor documental saído dos laboratorios do ICAIC durante este trinta anos, escollería seguramente Coffea Arábiga

de Nicolás Guillén Landrián. Velaquí unha obra feita por encargo -sobre o cultivo do café- na que o realizador subordinou o tema ao seu desexo de facer unha radiografía do espírito nacional enardecido pola axitación revolucionaria, o que vén sendo un retrato exacto do país” 6. 1 Sede da Seguridade do Estado cubana. 2 Máximo premio do Festival Internacional de Valladolid, SEMINCI. En 1966, Guillén Landrián recibiu o premio ex-aequo con Ingmar Bergman. 3 En francés no orixinal. Trad.: tolemia. 4 Chanan, Michael: The Cuban Image, Indiana University Press, Bloomington, Indiana, 1985. 5 Chanan, Michael: Cuban Cinema, University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, 2004. 6 Évora, José Antonio: «Santiago Álvarez et le documentaire». En: Paranagua, Paulo Antonio (Compilador): Le cinéma cubain, Editions du Centre Pompidou, París, 1990, p.130. [Texto orixinal en francés. Tradución de Liliane Hasson].

THREE LETTERS OF NICOLÁS GUILLÉN LANDRIÁN by Manuel Zayas

Those who had known him in Cuba, and had then lost all contact with him, thought that Nicolas Guillén Landrián was already dead. In February of 2003 –thanks to Alejandro Ríos and Lara Petusky Coger – I discovered that this filmmaker was living in Miami and I contacted him. The contact took place via email only and lasted just three months. Nicolasito, at that moment, knew nothing of the cancer that would end his life, nor did I imagine myself making a post-mortem documentary about him. But just as with his films, which were released almost thirty years after being made, in his life everything seemed to be postponed. Rather than it being fate, this was the decision of enlightened culture officials. In 2002 and 2003, the Muestra de Jovenes Realizadores sponsored by the Cuban Film Institute (ICAIC), released most of his films in the section “Premios a la sombra” (Awards in the shadows). The dossier that accompanied the screening defined the various senses of the idiomatic Spanish phrase a la sombra: “under the protection of // in a prison // hidden behind // in the shade // without luck, without fortune // to remain hidden in spite of // placed aside // secretive”. This discovery surprised many. Since then, the name of Nicolás Guillén Landrián began to resonate. I imagine that one day his name will appear in the catalogues of Cuban cinema. These are the only three letters that were saved from our encounter. I only regret not being meticulous enough to archive all of our correspondence as well the dates of each letter.

Dear Manuel: The documentaries or the list of the titles that you sent me is incomplete. I do not know if you tried to summarize, but the titles are as follows: Homenaje a Picasso, El Morro, Un Festival Deportivo, En un Barrio Viejo, Ociel del Toa, Retornar a Baracoa, Plenaria Campesina, Rita Montaner, Los del Baile, Coffea Arábiga, Desde La Habana -1970- Recordar, Taller de Línea y 18, un Reportaje en el Puerto Pesquero and Nosotros en el Cuyaguateje, which was the last one I finished. Also, I doubt that there are copies of Desde La Habana – 1970- Recordar and Rita Montaner in existence, since as far as I am aware these were never copied; they remained only as a sound and image edition, as a “re-recording”, and El Son, of which I did not even get to see the rushes. I hope you are to put together an objective and exemplary film. Regards, Nicolás Guillén Landrián

II Due to the haste in which I wrote to you a few hours ago, I forgot to mention Patio Arenero and Congos Reales. I do not have any aesthetic conflicts with any of my films. All aesthetic conflicts are the result of conceptual conflicts. I wanted to be an interpreter of my reality. I always found myself in the vortex of alienation. The result as a whole is every film I made. I did not think of doing cinema before the existence of ICAIC because I did not have the means to bring about a result. But I had made a short documentary about Zanja in Havana in which I was accompanied by Françoise Sagan. It was never edited. One of the sponsors of this film was my mother, Adelina Landrián, who provided money and bought the editing equipment – which was not used; the other was the Catholic Youth of Havana. I went to the ICAIC due to the fact that I did not have any job options in the sixties. I went there for a job and they gave me one. I began as a production assistant, and in a few years I was promoted to the position of director of short films. My background – in collaboration with others filmmakers of the Escuela Documental, Alberto Roldán, Fernando Villaverde – made me opt for immediate and worthy topics. Because of this, all my documentaries ended up being postponed. I was humiliated and marginalized while being at ICAIC and they censored my films – they said – due to my social behaviour. Joris Ivens and Theodor Christensen were the points of encounter for me with a language that was both appropriate and of a higher level. I learned much from them: above all, to be friendly and affectionate with people. I do not have copies of Los del Baile, Nosotros en el Cuyaguateje, Plenaria Campesina, Un Festival Deportivo nor Congos Reales. Regards, Nicolás Guillén Landrián

III

Could you imagine what it was like, all of a sudden, to see myself in the cells at Villa Marista1? According to them, they were looking for my ideological conflict after I had won the Espiga de Oro2 with Ociel del Toa. And this wasn’t everything. I was sent to a farm for two years; a farm that was meant to punish improper conduct in the political cadres. There my schizophrenia started once again, yet more acute, and I ended up being receiving psychiatric care from the doctors of the prison. They recommended sending me to a psychiatric centre where I could be treated properly. Furthermore, they put me in an airplane, barefoot, in a farm overall, and on my shoulders a striped suit that I loved very much. They took me from Gerona to Havana, where I was admitted to the Military Psychiatric Hospital in Ciudad Libertad. In this place, after being treated by an Argentinian psychiatrist, I was sent under house arrest to my parents’ home to finish the rest of my sentence to which I was subjected without a trial, only after the deliberation of a military tribunal. After, I returned to ICAIC, and ICAIC commissioned a didactic film about the coffee harvest,

focusing on the working day of a coffee labourer in Cuba during the years after I was released from prison for improper conduct of a member of the political cadres. Immediately I began to work on an accessible documentary – informative more than simply didactic, although it is also didactic – of everything that had to do with the coffee and the context in which I was placed in order to make Coffea Arábiga. After Coffea Arábiga, la folie3. There was no possible way that I could put together in a logical manner, in cinematic images for me, the urgency of the sixties. The paradox is that there was no real political clash for my part, but rather a mute consent and complicity with all that misfortune. I already said it, my friend, la folie. My last re-recording was the documentary that I titled Nosotros en el Cuyaguateje. I have been ostracised for sixty-four years: ever since I can remember. Just because of my name and surname. Just think about the fact that I was never able to attend the international festivals where my films were sent, since the ICAIC did not believe that I could represent Cuban cinema; someone even went as far as to say – so it seems – that my cinema was frenchified (afrancesado). This happened with En un Barrio Viejo, and all the cowardly people responsible agreed. En un Barrio Viejo received an honorary mention in Krakow, Poland, and the Opera Prima prize in Tours, France. So, I started badly and finished badly in the Cuban film industry. Having being subjected to this, I think that ostracism is a terrible thing Regards from Nicolás Guillén Landrián.

Drawing on the joy that his films caused me, I began to map his film career with Guillén Landrián himself, the great absentee of specialized publications and catalogues of cinema, and also the great unknown figure for certain foreign scholars: Michael Chanan in The Cuban Image4 did not even mention the name of the unluckiest of all Cuban filmmakers; this did not change when, decades later, he republsihed the book under the title Cuban Cinema5. It is interesting that, although the Cinemateca de Cuba records that Guillén Landrián made eighteen documentaries, the scholars of cinema take care not to mention that name. Before the thaw, the only one to assess his cinematic contribution was José Antonio Évora in an article that he entitled “Santiago Alvarez et le documentaire”, published in the book Le Cinéma Cubain: “If they ask me which, in my opinion, was the best documentary to come out of the laboratories of the ICAIC during these thirty years, I would most likely select Coffea Arábiga by Nicolás Guillén Landrián. This is a work commissioned about the coffee harvest in which the filmmaker subordinated the topic to provide an insight into the spirit of a nation inflamed by revolutionary euphoria, thus becoming an accurate portrait of the nation at the time.”6 1 The Cuban State Security Headquarters in Havana. 2 First prize at the International Film festival of Valladolid, SEMINCI.

In 1966, Guillén Landrián received the award ex-aequo along with Ingmar Bergman. 3 Written in French in the original by Guillén Landrián. Translation: “madness”. 4 Chanan, Michael: The Cuban Image. Indiana University Press, Bloomington, Indiana, 1985. 5 Chanan, Michael: Cuban Cinema. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, 2004. 6Évora, José Antonio: «Santiago Álvarez et le documentaire». Included in Paranagua,

Paulo Antonio (General Editor): Le cinéma cubain, Editions du Centre Pompidou, Paris, 1990, p.130. [Original in French].

ESPECIAL NICOLÁS GUILLÉN LANDRIÁN

EN UN BARRIO VIEJO

NUN BARRIO VELLO CUBA / 9’/ 1963 sábado Saturday ás 18:30h

LOS DEL BAILE

OS DO BAILE CUBA / 6’/ 1965 sábado Saturday ás 18:30h

OCIEL DEL TOA

OCIEL DO TOA CUBA / 16’ / 1965 sábado Saturday ás 18:30h

Poucos anos despois do triunfo da Revolución, A Habana parece unha cidade de posguerra. Retrato da xente que vive nesa parte vella da cidade. Mención de honra no Festival Internacional de Cinema de Cracovia, Polonia (1964).

A few years after the Revolution, Havana seems to be a post-war city. A portrait of people who live in an old neighborhood. Honored at Cracow Film Festival (1964).

Director, guión: Nicolás Guillén Landrián Fotografía: Livio Delgado Montaxe: Caíta Villalón Sonido: Ricardo Istueta Productor: Roberto León Henríquez

A xente baila durante unha actuación da Orquestra de Pello el Afrokán. O filme foi censurado, como sucedeu co documental PM, nos inicios da revolución, por mostrar unha imaxe non desexada da Habana nocturna, cando se supuña que o cinema debía fomentar o heroísmo revolucionario.

People dance during a performance of Pello el Afrokán’s Orchestra. The film was censored, as it happened with the documentary PM at the beginning of the revolution, for showing an undesired image of Havana’s nightlife, when films were supposed to encourage revolutionary heroism.

Director, guión: Nicolás Guillén Landrián Fotografía: Luís García Montaxe: María Esther Valdés, Justo Vega Música: Pello el Afrokán, Federico García Son: Raúl García Produtor: Eduardo Valdés Rivero Ociel é un adolescente que vive nas proximidades do río Toa, na rexión máis oriental de Cuba. Vai á escola e conduce un caiuco. A vida é dura alí. Un filme poético sobre os soños e a morte. Premio Espiga de Oro no Festival de Cine de Valladolid (1966).

Ociel is a teenager who lives near the Toa river, in the eastern part of Cuba. He goes to the school and works as boatman. Life is hard there. A poetic film about dreams and death. First Prize at Valladolid International Film Festival (1966).

Director, guión: Nicolás Guillén Landrián Fotografía: Livio Delgado Montaxe: Caíta Villalón Música: Roberto Valera Son: Roberto Plaza Produtor: José Gutiérrez

Retrato de Baracoa, a cidade máis oriental de Cuba, e dos seus habitantes. Prohibido.

RETORNAR A BARACOA

A portrait of Baracoa, the most eastern city of Cuba, and its inhabitants. Banned.

Director, guión: Nicolás Guillén Landrián Fotografía: Livio Delgado Montaxe: Amparo Laucerica Música: Leo Brouwer, Ulises Fernándz Son: Eugenio Meza, Rodolfo Plaza Produtor: José Gutiérrez

CUBA / 16’ / 1966 sábado Saturday ás 18:30h Hai un mitin político dos campesiños contra a ignorancia. A ignorancia é representada como un boneco de trapo. Durante os discursos, os campesiños parecen non entender. Prefiren bailar. Prohibido.

REPORTAJE

REPORTAXE CUBA / 9’ / 1966 sábado Saturday ás 18:30h

COFFEA ARÁBIGA

CUBA / 18’ / 1968 sábado Saturday ás 18:30h

There is a political meeting of peasants against ignorance. Ignorance is represented as a rag-doll. During the speeches, peasants seem not to understand. They prefer to dance. Banned.

Director, guión: Nicolás Guillén Landrián Fotografía: Livio Delgado Montaxe: Justo Vega Música: Armando Guerra Produtor: José Gutiérrez Do cafetal aos teus beizos. O Instituto Cubano de Cine encargou a Guillén Landrián facer un documental de propaganda para ensinar como sementar café ao redor da Habana, unha das ideas máis delirantes de Fidel Castro. De feito, Guillén Landrián, realiza un filme didáctico, que á vez traizoa a proposta oficial. A gran irreverencia: o uso na banda sonora dunha canción dos prohibidos Os Beatles, O parvo do outeiro (The Fool on the Hill), que aparece cando Castro sobe unha tribuna para dar un discurso. O documental foi exhibido, pero prohibido en canto fracasou o Plan do Cordón da Habana.

From the coffee tree to your lips. The Cuban Film Institute commanded Landrián to make a propaganda documentary to show how to sow coffee around Havana, one of Castro’s most delirious ideas. In fact, Guillén Landrián made a didactic film, which at the same time managed to betray the official proposal. The great irreverence: the use in the soundtrack of a forbidden song by The Beatles, The Fool on the Hill, when Castro walks to a podium for a speech. The documentary was exhibited but banned as soon as the coffee plan collapsed.

Director, guión: Nicolás Guillén Landrián Fotografía: Lupercio López Montaxe: Iván Arocha Son: Rodolfo Plaza Produtor: José Rouco

CINEMA GALEGO galician cinema ALÉN DA “ZONA DE CONFORT” 1 Por Manolo González

A comezos do século, a “zona de confort” do audiovisual galego determinaba o estilo e forma do xénero documental. Os requisitos do financiamento (Xunta) e distribución (TVG) prescribían temas e estilos narrativos, sendo moi poucos quen ousaron transitar fóra do marco institucional; a súa visibilidade era nula e quimérica a posibilidade de obter algún tipo de apoio financeiro. O sistema non favorecía a emerxencia de olladas propias nin na produción nin na distribución, polo que o estilo mainstream do documental televisivo homoxeneizou a produción galega durante os últimos quince años, isto é, producir documentais para manter “abertas as instalacións” e seguir producindo en función das circunstancias emanadas pola conxuntura política de cada momento na “zona de confort”: A lóxica da empresa contra a lóxica do filme. Unha tendencia non só galega como se analizaba no francés Manifesto dos 13: “Pasouse dunha lóxica onde a empresa de produción existía porque desenvolvía proxectos específicos, a unha lóxica onde a rendibilidade da sociedade prima ata inducir a mesma necesidade de producir, simplemente para vivir como empresa”. O resultado está á vista: a produción documental dos últimos trinta anos (desde o nacemento da TVG) -agás algunhas pezas de videocreación dos 80 o 90- fixeron crer a público, medios de comunicación e produtores que un documental era “iso”: unha narración televisada de “liña clara” independentemente de temas máis ou menos interesantes para públicos determinados. Fóra desta zona de confort, o frío era intenso; só algúns destemidos como por exemplo Alberte Pagán se atrevían a internarse en territorios inexplorados, ante a indiferenza xeral. Porén, nos últimos seis anos, ao amparo da democratización da produción dixital e a súa capacidade de distribución planetaria pola rede, emerxeu un “mundo paralelo” ao industrial que animou a novos creadores a producir individualmente propostas que dialogaban de ti a ti con proxectos similares de creadores noutras culturas do mundo. No seu momento (2006), a extinta Axencia Audiovisual Galega entendeu a existencia deste caldo de cultivo de autores emerxentes que pretendían desenvolver proxectos á marxe dos corsés da zona de confort industrial e nos que primaba a creación sobre os domesticados intereses do mercado. As axudas públicas ao talento en curtas e longas encarnaron a primeira oportunidade de traballar cunhas condicións de mínimos. Aínda recordo o discurso de pensamento único do audiovisual galego e as furibundas críticas dalgúns produtores autóctonos pola instauración de medidas de apoio á marxe do sistema oficial, por estimular exploracións fóra da súa “zona de confort”: “tirar o diñeiro público”, “non crean industria”, “morralla”, “artistadas de autores egocéntricos”, “esas peliculitas non se verán en ningures e non servirán `para nada”, etc... Porén, os pequenos filmes avalados pola liña do talento

conseguiron máis recoñecemento internacional en prestixiosos festivais do mundo que a produción mainstream subvencionada -sen apenas relevancia industrial ou artística-, aínda que segue a resultar insólita a indiferenza do mundo cultural e mediático, alleos á transcendencia do fenómeno para a cultura contemporánea de Galicia. Este novo documental é heteroxéneo e polimorfo, como corresponde á súa propia idiosincrasia: documental de creación, cinema non reconciliado, cinema de non ficción, mutacións… Se cadra o único cemento que relacione os seus creadores sexa a súa aposta rotunda por unha ollada persoal e intransferible sobre os temas que abordan, algúns deles tamén favoritos de escritores da cultura galega do século XX: a paisaxe, o mundo rural, a emigración, a memoria, o devalar do tempo… Son en definitiva temas sempiternos mais cunha relevante carga de subxectividade persoal e producidos na periferia da industria audiovisual convencional ou a cultura oficial, inxectándolles aire fresco, diverxente, arriscado, en suma contemporáneo, marcando amais unha renovación xeracional que aínda non conseguiu a relevancia que merece. Cada autor explora o seu camiño libremente, á marxe de calquera interese comercial e o filme epicentro ao redor do que todo se articula, sen dogmas, estándares, modelos de produción ou canons preestablecidos. Os seus relatos son híbridos e mestizos, a ficción coquetea co documental e viceversa, poñendo en cuestión o tradicional punto de vista da obxectividade do xénero. Así pois, a creación devén de novo a converterse en exploración e procura fóra da zona de confort. É un camiño que aínda non se consolidou entre nós, mais o tempo xoga ao seu favor nunha época na que a crise sistémica audiovisual puxo en cuestión todas as certezas do modelo dominante. Do mesmo modo que na fin da era secundaria, os dinosauros morren, mais os pequenos mamíferos sobreviven. Parece que asistimos a un proceso inevitable que nos libera do hexemónico patrón clásico e coloca o autor diante do que pretende contar cos recursos dos que dispón. Ao xeito de Bresson: A facultade de aproveitar os meus recursos diminúe cando o seu número aumenta. Ao longo da súa traxectoria Play-Doc converteuse nunha marca referencial para os amadores de territorios alén da zona de confort, unha cita imprescindible de celebración, encontro e aprendizaxe. A Galicia do futuro vén camiñando con este vento. Celebremos, pois con orgullo este acontecemento e compartamos os descubrimentos dos viaxeiros e exploradores libres da sempre sorprendente realidade. 1 Zona de confort é un construto psicolóxico que describe o espazo físico, psicolóxico ou emocional onde nos sentimos

seguros e “cómodos” co noso modo de vida actual. O individuo non idea novos horizontes ou riscos e tende a confundir a súa percepción da realidade coa da propia realidade.

BEYOND THE “COMFORT ZONE” 1 by Manolo González

At the beginning of the century, the “comfort zone” of Galician audiovisual production determined the style and form of the documentary genre. Financial requisites (imposed by the Xunta, the regional government) and distribution requirements (imposed by TVG, the regional TV service) set the themes and narrative styles, so that very few dared to venture beyond the institutional framework – and their visibility was negligible and their hopes of obtaining financial support even more so. The production and distribution system was not propitious to the emergence of work with real originality and so a “mainstream” style of TV documentary became wholly dominant in Galician productions over the last fifteen years. So, documentaries were produced merely to produce something and to continue producing in the “comfort zone”, in accordance with the current political situation: business logic prevailed over film-making logic. This trend was not exclusive to Galicia, as it was analysed in the French Manifesto of the 13: “We went from a logic where the production company existed because it developed specific projects, to a logic where the profitability of the company was what drove the need to produce films, in order for the company to continue to

exist.” The result is easy to see: documentary production over the last thirty years (since TVG was established), except for some works of video art from the 80s and 90s, created a particular idea of what a documentary was in the mind of the public, the media, and producers: a clearly linear televised narrative, regardless of the interest or otherwise of the topics to particular audiences. Outside of this “comfort zone”, the situation was bleak; only a few courageous figures, such as Alberte Pagan, dared to venture into unexplored territory, in the face of general indifference. However, in the last six years, the levelling effects of digital production and the possibilities of global distribution that the internet provides paved the way for a world parallel to the industrial sector to emerge, encouraging young artists to produce independent projects and enter into a dialogue with other similar artists from other cultures. Then, in 2006, the now extinct Axencia Audiovisual Galega recognised the importance of this breeding ground of young artists, who were seeking to undertake projects outside the industrial comfort zone and for whom creativity carried greater weight than tame commercial interests. The public funding of the production of short and full-length films provided these artists with their first opportunity to work in reasonable conditions. I can still recall the response of the blinkered Galician audiovisual industry and the furious criticism from several local producers of these moves to support projects outside of the official system and to stimulate exploration outside of the “comfort zone”: for them this was “throwing away public money”, “not supporting the industry”, “rubbish”, “extravagance by self-obsessed artists”, “little films that will not be seen nowhere and will serve no purpose”, etc. However, these small-scale films made by this talented group have achieved a level of international recognition at prestigious film festivals which has escaped the subsidized mainstream productions, which have had little industrial or artistic impact. The indifference of the media and cultural commentators still seems shocking, seemingly unaware of the importance of this phenomenon in Galician contemporary culture. These new documentaries are heterogeneous and polymorphous, as their idiosyncrasy demand: creative documentaries, unreconciled cinema, non-fiction cinema, mutations... Perhaps the only connection shared by these artists is their personal and singular perspective on the issues they examine, some of which were also the focus of 20th century Galician writers: the landscape, the rural world, emigration, memory, and the passage of time. These are eternal themes but here they are dealt with from a significantly personal and subjective perspective, and the films have emerged from the periphery of the conventional audiovisual industry and established culture. They are thus a breath of fresh air, different, daring – in short, contemporary – and they also mark a generational renewal which has not yet been sufficiently recognised. All of these film-makers have been free to undertake their own explorations, set aside all commercial interests, and place the film at the heart of everything, with no dogmas, standards, production models or norms to follow. The tales they tell are hybrid, with an interplay between fiction and documentary and a questioning of the traditional objective point of view of the genre. Thus, creativity leads to exploration and investigation outside the “comfort zone”. This approach has still to fully establish itself, but time is in its favour: the systemic crisis of audiovisual production has led to a questioning of all the certainties of the dominant model. We are at the end of a second Cretaceous period: then, the dinosaurs died and the small mammals survived. It seems that we are witnesses to an unstoppable process which will free us from the traditional hegemonic norms and enable film-makers to tell the tale they wish to tell with the resources that are available to them. As Bresson said: “My ability to take full advantage of my resources decreases as their number increases”. Over the course of its history, PlayDoc has become a by-word for the exploration of territories beyond the “comfort zone” and a great venue for celebration, for making and renewing acquaintances and for learning. This is the wind that is blowing through the Galicia of the future. Let us be proud, then, celebrate this event and share in the discoveries of these travellers through and unfettered explorers of reality, which never ceases to amaze. 1 A comfort zone is a psychological construct that describes a physical, psychological, or emotional space, where we feel safe and comfortable with our way of life. In this space the individual does not seek out new horizons or take risks, and tends to confuse his perception of reality with reality itself.

FÓRA OUT

mércores Wednesday ás 22:30h

PABLO CAYUELA-XAN GÓMEZ VIÑAS / 95’ / 2012 / GALICIA

Dirección e montaxe: Pablo Cayuela / Xan Gómez Viñas Fotografía: Pablo Cayuela Son: Carlos Sarille Locución: Sonia Varela Texto: Pablo Cayuela / María do Cebreiro Banda sonora orixinal: Urro Imaxe gráfica: X. Carlos Hidalgo Segundo operador: Julio Vilariño Con: Emilio González / Eliseo Fernández / Manuel Sixto / Manuel Valiño / Sonia Varela Contacto: Pablo Cayuela / Xan Gómez Viñas foraconxo.filme@gmail.com

Fóra é unha indagación sobre as historias ocultas dun lugar: o edificio do hospital psiquiátrico de Conxo. Empregando un dispositivo audiovisual que parte da posta en imaxe do documento, a longametraxe xera unha corrente alterna entre as imaxes da institución e as voces, ligadas aos relatos que abeira o edificio ou á lectura de fragmentos literarios e fontes documentais escollidas pola súa capacidade de resonancia no presente. A Historia de Conxo ―imaxe especular da Historia compostelana― vaise esfarelando en pequenas historias que revelan a necesidade de explorar máis polo miúdo o significado social de determinados espazos reprimidos da memoria urbana. Fóra (Out) investigates the hidden stories of a place: the premises of the Psychiatric Hospital of Conxo. The filmmakers use an audio-visual technique that transforms the document into image, in order to create a sort of alternate current between the images of the institution and several voices. These multiple voices are connected to the stories lingering in the building and to the reading of literary excerpts and documentary sources with strong echoes in the present day. Here the history of Conxo ―which mirrors that of Compostela― is unravelled into little stories that stress the need for taking a closer look at certain areas erased from the urban memory and their social meaning. society’s injured until they loose their empathy?

N-VI

domingo Sunday ás 20:30h

PELA DEL ÁLAMO / 86’ / 2012 / GALICIA Dirección: Pela Del Álamo Produción: Pela Del Álamo, Uxía García, Marta Díaz, Alicia Arias Produtora: Diplodocus producións Montaxe: Ariadna Fatjó-Vilas, Pilar Monsell, Pela Del Álamo Fotografa: Francisco Arnoso “Pixi” Son: Daniel Fernández, David Machado Contacto: Diplodocus producións info@diplodocus.es

Antes viaxabamos por estradas que atravesaban lugares habitados. Hoxe, aquelas estradas foron substituídas por autoestradas illadas da paisaxe que atravesan. Entre o punto de partida e o punto de chegada quedaron atrás os lugares de paso, onde aparentemente xa non ocorre nada. A N-VI é unha desas estradas. We used to travel along roads that went through inhabited places. Now, those roads have been replaced by motorways isolated from the landscape they cross. Between the point of departure and the point of arrival we have left behind those places of passage where, apparently, nothing happens anymore. The N-VI is one of those roads.

A BRECHA THE GAP

MARCOS NINE / 85’/ 2011 / GALICIA Director: Marcos Nine Bua Guión: Marcos Nine Bua Montaxe: Marcos Nine Bua Produtora: Ximena Losada Arufe Textos e deseño de arte: Rodrigo Losada Son: Daniel Patiño – Verónica Ruiz Música: Manuel Rivero Fotografías: Rodrigo Losada. Fran X. Rodriguez Cuadros: Verónica Gómez Contacto: AMÉN CINEMA info@amencinema.es

xoves Thursday ás 18:30h Dous territorios repártense o mundo, dous estados do ser -de natureza contrapostapóñense en crise; para modelar, para dar forma ao existente. Hai unha muralla e sempre hai un que vai a ir buscar que hai do outro lado e quizais, do outro lado non estea o que esperaba. “La Brecha” é un filme que cuestiona o concepto de obra de arte mentres pon de manifesto os mecanismos de autocensura e autocontrol dos creadores á hora de realizar as súas obras.

The world is shared among two territories, two states of the being of opposite condition, get strained, are in crisis, to form, to shape what already exists. There’s a wall and there’s always someone who will go and look for what shit is on the other side and maybe on the other side you don’t find what expected. “La Brecha” is a movie that questions the whole concept of artwork while exposing the mechanisms of self-censorship and self-control of the creators at the time of producing their works.

MONTAÑA EN SOMBRA MOUNTAIN IN SHADOW

LOIS PATIÑO / 14’ / 2012 / GALICIA Dirección, imaxe, montaxe: Lois Patiño Colaboración: Carla Andrade Son: Miguel Calvo “Maiki” e Erik T. Jensen Música: Ann Deveria Contacto: Lois Patiño loispatinho@gmail.com

mércores Wednesday ás 22:30h Obra poética que se aproxima á relación entre o home e a inmensidade da paisaxe. Contemplamos, desde a distancia, a actividade dos esquiadores na montaña nevada. A imaxe pictórica e a atmosfera escura e onírica, transforman o espazo en algo irreal, impreciso, converténdoo tamén nunha experiencia táctil. A poetic view into the relationship of immensity between man and landscape. We contemplate, from the distance, the activity of the skiers on the snowy mountain. The pictorial image and the dark and dreamlike atmosphere transforms the space into something unreal, imprecise, converting it also in a tactile experience.

IMAXES SECRETAS SECRET IMAGES DIANA TOUCEDO / 18’ / 2012 / GALICIA Dirección: Diana Toucedo Produción: Diana Toucedo Guión: Jorge M. Suárez e Diana Toucedo Cámara, montaxe e son: Diana Toucedo Colorista: Lara Vilanova Deseño Gráfico: Silvia Míguez Tradución: Uxía Iglésias Contacto: Diana Toucedo venres Friday ás 16:30h dianatoucedo@gmail.com O meu pai é capitán de barco. Toda a súa vida estivo fóra de casa, pescando e navegando polos caladoiros máis importantes do mundo. Para min, o meu pai sempre foi aquel que comparte un par de meses ao ano connosco, pero cando se vai, nunca sei cal é a súa vida en realidade. En Imaxes secretas viaxo a Arxentina para descubrir por primeira vez cal é o modo de vida dun capitán e dun pai, que sempre estiveron ausentes. My father is a sea captain. All his life has been away from home, fishing and sailing the world’s major fishing grounds. For me, my father has always been one who shares a couple of months a year with us, but when he goes, I never know what is his really life. In Secret images I travel to Argentina to find out for my first time, what is the lifestyle of a captain and a father who have always been absent.

PIEDAD OTTO ROCA / 73’ / 2012 / GALICIA

venres Friday ás 16:30h

Guión: Marcos Nine Produción: Ximena Losada Fotografía: Otto Roca Son: Daniel Patiño Edición: Fran X. Rodríguez, Marcos Nine Música: Benxamín Otero Contacto: Amén Cinema info@amencinema.es

Piedad viviu grande parte da súa vida en Leiroso, unha pequena aldea, aillada do mundo urbán na compaña do seu marido. Ámbolos dous decidiran ficar na vila, ainda cando os fillos e veciños foran abandonando o lugar. Aos 76 anos aparece o alzheimer na vida de Piedad, o seu home morreu fai xa algún tempo, convertíndose así na derradeira habitate do lugar, ainda así, a opción de irse de alí non era algo que tivese en mente. A progresión da enfermidade motiva que o seu fillo máis novo, tome a decisión de levar a súa nai a vivir ca súa familia á cidade de A Coruña. Isto provocará un cambio radical na vida de Piedad, no seu día a día, no seu entorno familiar e nos recordos que ela ten da súa vida anterior. Na nova vida de Piedad, non se sabe que é verdade ou lembranza e que é produto da súa enfermidade.

Piedad lived most of her life in Leiroso, a small village, far from the urban world. Along with her husband, they choosed to stay eventhough their children and neighbors left. At age 76 Alzheimer appears in her live. Her husband died long ago, and she is the only inhabitant in the area. Because of the disease her youngest son takes her with him and his family, to the city. This radical change takes her to a new life where facts, memories or what her own disease creates are intermingled.

domingo Sunday ás 16:30h

O RETRATO FILMADO

the filmed portrait

O RETRATO-ESPELLO por Marta Andreu Pasaron cinco anos desde que o noso laboratorio do retrato filmado comezou. A viaxe levounos do encontro á memoria, de aí, máis aló da deriva, apareceu a paisaxe. E hoxe chegamos ao seu fin, e o retrato devén espello. Que hai de cada un de nós naquilo que facemos? Canto chegan a devolvernos da nosa propia ollada, os ollos daqueles que miramos? Ata onde falar da vida dos outros é falar tamén da nosa? Este ano, diciamos, chegamos ao final do traxecto. E si, todo empeza un día. E un día todo chega ao seu termo. Pero ás veces (todas?) o que ese final atopa non é máis que algo que viría dar conta da mesma orixe. A razón pola que empezamos este proxecto ten que ver coa crenza de que ollar é recoñecerse naquel que temos diante, porque ao cabo o outro sempre está diante e o que fai esa presenza é sempre lembrarnos a propia. Ese primeiro xesto de quen ten unha cámara entre as mans para capturar o que ve vincúlase co compartir iso visto, descubrindo o que o outro mira. E nese descubrimento, descubrirse mirando, aprender de todo iso, mirar(se) no mirar. Os participantes do laboratorio se han ir recoñecendo os uns nos outros (desde detrás e desde diante das cámaras) e son recoñecidos polos demais, nós-espectadores, na caligrafía que ha ir deixando pegada de todo o proceso. As vidas cinematográficas que con iso se han ir construíndo aí están, fixadas, mostrando que aí seguen, latexando. Hoxe despedimos a experiencia con ese espello que seguirá falando de quen é mirado, pero tamén de quen mira, e abrigo da distancia que houbo, hai (e non hai... é o mesmo) entre eles e que se estende, inevitablemente, cara os que estamos ao redor deses momentos de encontro, de intercambio e que despois habemos ir estando diante das imaxes que os volven presentar, depurados, distintos pero semellantes. Quedará de todo iso cinco xestos mínimos (e por iso, grandes), cinco “ida e volta”, cinco anos compartidos, entrelazados en momentos que foron e que ao ser rexistrados, non deixarán de volver ser. Unha e outra vez.

Agradecemento infinito. Logo, máis tarde, máis aló, ao redor da curva... quen sabe... pero a vista xa algo alcanza a ver. Continuará...

PORTRAIT-AS-MIRROR by Marta Andreu Five years have gone by since our laboratory of the filmed portrait began. The journey has taken us from the portrait-through-encounter to the portrait-through-memory, and from there to the portrait-through-others, and beyond that to the portrait-through-landscape. And today we reach the conclusion and the portrait becomes a mirror. What is there of each one of us in the film portraits that we make? How much of our own gaze is reflected in the eyes of those we look at? To what extent is recounting the lives of others also to talk about our own. This year, as we were saying, we reach the end of the line. Just as everything has a day on which starts, so too one day everything runs its course. But sometimes (if not always) what is met with at the end of a journey is the very thing that justifies our first starting out. The reason why we began this project has to do with the belief that to look at the one before us is to recognise ourselves in them, because in the end the other is always in front of us, and what the presence of the other always does is remind us of our own presence. That first act by whoever holds a camera in their hand in order to capture what he or she sees is closely connected with the sharing of that vision, and with the discovery of what the other also sees. And in that discovery, one finds oneself and from it all one learns to look at oneself by looking at others. The participants in the laboratory have each been able to recognise themselves in the others (from both behind and in front of the cameras). They are also recognised by everybody else, that is by us the spectators, through the distinctive signature each participant has left on the whole process. The lives fixed on film that are the result are now before us, and there they continue to be and to live. Today we say goodbye to the experiment with that mirror that will go on speaking about who is looked at, but also about who does the looking. Above all, the mirror speaks of the distance that there has been and that there is (or perhaps equally that there is not) between the observer and the observed. This distance extends inevitably also to those of us close to those moments of encounter and mutual exchange, who have afterwards been placed in front of the resulting images that, after careful selection, are given back to us for presentation, different but alike. Of all that has passed, five portrayals will remain, brief but not less important for that, five revisits, five shared years, moments of which were wound together and put on record but which will never pass again. Once again, countless thanks. Later, by and by, further on, around the bend . . . .who knows? . . . . but that there will be something you manages to see more clearly as a result. It will continue. . .

LIVE

A música volve ser protagonista en Play-Doc. Nesta edición e con motivo da presentación no festival da obra do cineasta cubano Nicolás Guillén Landrián, propómosvos “outra viaxe” á illa caribeña, pero esta vez a través do sorprendente universo sonoro de Kumar SublevaoBeat. MC e produtor de música urbana afrocubana, Kumar comezou a súa carreira musical na Habana, Cuba, dentro do movemento de Hip Hop dos anos 90. Sublevao Beat é o resultado da profunda influencia que o afro-latin jazz, o reggae, o funk e en especial a música tradicional afrocubana teñen na súa proposta musical, logrando unha sonoridade persoal que combina percusión afrocubana con samplers, sintetizadores e instrumentos acústicos que se funden nun verso poético, profundo e comprometido. O seu primeiro disco Película de Barrio tivo unha gran acollida pola crítica internacional e con el percorreu escenarios de todo o mundo, Montreaux Jazz Festival (Suíza), Elysee Montmartre (Paris), Worldwide Festival Awards, Cargo (Londres), Dunya Festival (Róterdan), por só citar algúns dos máis importantes. Na actualidade prepara o seu novo álbum Patakin e un EP Sub-Elevation. Ao mesmo tempo que traballa no proxecto Afrikun en colaboración con Machete Horns, no que profunda na investigación da música afro e a presenza da percusión convértese nun elemento fundamental e distintivo na súa música. Kumar realizou múltiples colaboracións con artistas internacionais da talla de Omar Eslamiada, Gilles Peterson, Ojos de brujo, Jimi Tenor, Perico Sambeat, Terrakota ou Indee Styla, entre moitos outros.

SÁBADO 16 MARZO 00:30h SALA METROPOL. 6€ Music plays an important role at Play-Doc Festival. In this ninth edition, along with the special screenings of the Cuban filmmaker Nicolás Guillén Landrián, we bring you another amazing ‘trip’ to the Caribbean island, this time through the astonishing sound of Kumar Sublevao-Beat. Afro-Cuban MC and urban music producer, Kumar Sublevao Beat started his career during the 90’s boom of hip hop in Havana, Cuba. Influenced by afro-latin jazz, reggae, afro-beat, funk and soul, Kumar’s sound is a sophisticated combination of traditional drumming samples, synths and live instruments. Sublevao Beat’s first release Película de Barrio (LP, Universal Music), toured extensively to important shows around the world and received a great welcome from both audiences and the media, Montreaux Jazz Festival (Suiza), Elysee Montmartre (Paris), Worldwide Festival Awards, Cargo (Londres), Dunya Festival (Rotterdam), among many others. Now Sublevao beat is back with Patakin, a new album where his search has turned to the roots of African spirituality. Some of the artists who have colaborated with Kumar: Ojos de Brujo, Last Poets, Omar Sosa, Perico Sambeat, Jimi Tenor, Terracota and Indee Styla, among many others.

Dirección Sara García e Ángel Sánchez Programación Sara García Produción Ángel Sánchez Coordinación de Produción Pablo Comesaña e María Cortegoso Teatro Municipal deTui Miguel Alfaya, Melchor Ordóñez, Diego Leirós, Fabián Barreiro Equipo de Produción Andrea Comesaña, Charlie Hermida, David López, Dani Rodríguez, Fran García, Gonzalo Lomba, José Álvarez, Juan Serodio, Lucía Vázquez, Mar F. Cendón, María Rodríguez, María Sánchez, Paula Alfaya, Tomás Vidal, Víctor Franco Responsable de Comunicación e Asistente de Programación Víctor Paz Morandeira prensa@play-doc.com Deseño, imaxe e cabeceira Calpurnio Pisón www.calpurnio.com Aplicación da imaxe María Rodríguez m.ar.te@hotmail.com Páxina web www.on-media.es Técnico, video e maquetación Gus Abreu abreu.gus@gmail.com Tradución María Enguix Tercero Gerardo Muñoz Paul e Rosario Thompson Subtítulos Vose Traducciones Audiovisuales, Sl maestelles@gmail.com Fotografía Tamara de La Fuente delafuente.tamara@gmail.com Son Javier Abreu www.oceanoestudio.com Merchandising Arlequín arlequinpublitui@gmail.com Trofeos, obra do escultor Juan Vázquez Agradecementos MOITAS GRAZAS a Manuel Zayas, Nicolas Azalbert (Cahiers du Cinéma), José Manuel Sande (CGAI), Jaime Pena (CGAI), Carlos Muguiro, Manolo González, María Enguix, Paul Sturtz (True/False FF), Chris Boeckmann (True/False FF), Jérémie Moussaid Kerouanton (Radio Groovalización), Marta Andreu, Vanesa Rodríguez, Moisés Rodríguez e moi especialmente a todos os PLAY-DOC SUPPORTERS polo seu apoio e xenerosidade. GRAZAS! THANK YOU!

play-doc ĂŠ posible grazas ao apoio de: thanks to the support of:

WWW.

.COM