Third Dot: Research question: death, life and everything inbetween

Third ; Research question-Life and Death (and Everything in Between)

Last Kiss of the Tarantula

For (s)he who lives more lives than one more deaths than one must die.”

(Oscar Wilde)

My surname is shared with a place, a spider, a dance and a Hollywood director that almost killed his muse in a car while shooting a trilogy. My VJ name was VJ Tarantula, as my surname is Taranto. It is also a gulf in southern Italy where the Tarantella is originated. The Tarantella (the dance of the spider) was traced back to the 14th and 15th century where the outbreak of the 'tantaism' epidemic started in the region of Taranto and slowly spreaded to other parts of Italy.

"According to legend, once bitten by a tarantula, the victim, referred to as the tarantata — who was almost always a woman of lower status — would fall into a fit in which she was plagued by heightened excitability and restlessness. Eventually, she would succumb to the condition and die.

The only cure, it seemed, was to engage in the frenzied dancing ritual of the Tarantella. Townspeople would surround the tarantata while musicians would play instruments such as mandolins, guitars, and tambourines in different tempos in search of the correct healing rhythm. Each varied beat would affect the tarantata, leading her to move in erratic ways in line with the tempo. Once

the correct rhythm was found, the victim — dancing the Tarantella alone until exhausted — was thought to be cured, having “sweated out” the venom!"

It is curious to notice, that the Tarantula spider miraculously attacked only women of the lower class and the only remedy for this dangerous situation was to gather musicians with the rest of the village and to dance ecstatically. I dare to conclude that the' Tantaism' was merely a medical excuse for legitimising women to dance their sorrow away.

My initial research question 'Death as a Teacher' was about death and the need to view death through a new narrative lens (see book 02 p.18). I am closing the circle with questions about freedom. As I understand it now, like the bite of the Tarantula, the desire to get to terms with death was a call to emancipate myself from its dread.

Death is an old friend, my first panic attacks took place at the age of eight. I woke up every morning in terror, knowing that "they are all dead". Years later when I volunteered at retirement homes, it struck me that even 92-year-olds were ignoring death. I thought that through engaging with death in an empowering discourse, I could learn how to live more meaningfully. Death perhaps could become a teacher for life. As Emily Dickson wrote: 'That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.'

The camera and sound were my initial tools to research my hypothesis and later communicate my findings. During the first year, I was working on what first seemed like two contradictory aesthetical and philosophical notions: sublimation and Wabi-Sabi. (read book 01 p.10 second alinea)

Sublimation is a metamorphosis of bringing the mundane to a higher realm. In the arts, sublimation is done mostly through aestheticisation. Wabi-sabi is a Japanese Philosophy that acknowledges that nothing is perfect, finished or forever. It's an aesthetic that rejects the sublime and embraces the imperfect; a clear example can be found in the practice of Kintsugi. You can read about the practice of Kintsugi in my blog:

http://blog.yafittaranto.com/my-guiding-principles/

During the summer and the third semester, I put my conceptual notions to the test and interviewed various people about their experiences with death from personal to professional perspectives. And most importantly I chose three women that became my muses. Anneliese Wolf, a 73 year old photographer, who hitchhiked to India in the sixties. My grandmother, Mathilde Mayers, approaching her 100th birthday, who married seven husbands in her lifetime. And Merel Westermann, born in 1967, who worked as a midwife and switched careers to become an undertaker.

While working with these three women, I experienced a shift in the mode of making. At first, I wanted them to instrumentalise my idea of "Death as a Teacher". I hoped they would teach me how to grow older and die in a culture that glorifies youth. Neither Merel, Anneliese nor my grandmother was responding the way I expected as a director. Neither of them approached death as a contrast to life.

Mathilde Mayers

Mathilde, my grandmother, is in limbo between life and death. Last September I was summoned to Israel by my family, worried she had few days to live. I went to say goodbye and took my camera with me. I wanted to look closely at my beloved one on her death bed.

Reviewing the material later, I didn't see death or sublimation. However, I did notice that my grandmother was getting fed by Judy, a woman from the Philippines. Judy has been living with my grandmother 24/7. She gets Sundays off, but she often stays to work for extra money. She sends her salary to her daughter and husband back home. In the past eight years, Judy saw her daughter only once. When she left the daughter was nine years old.

When I viewed the material I saw my grandmother in the middle of the frame, slowly detaching from life, while in the audio oridinairy life is evolving all around her.

My uncle speaks of a Romanian woman he met on Facebook; she was supposed to come and stay with him. He talks about money, cars, vacations and women. I noticed that every time my uncle speaks, Judy gives him a hateful look (00:23). It turned out that he is trying to get her to marry him. His plans are not very romantic: he wants her to take care of him free of charge, one of the perks of marriage (I won't mention other perks he has in mind).

In the editing room, I could suddenly read a typical family situation, otherwise opaque. In 01:49 minutes of roughly edited film I traced at least two cases of female deprivation. If I remain faithful to the footage I shot, it reveals a state that is far from sublimation.

Eight months later Mathilde still refuses to die, though she is mainly dwelling on the bridge between life and death.

Anneliese Wolf

When I first asked Anneliese how she relates to death, she replied that she thinks about "now", death will come later. A few weeks later when I came for a visit, I saw two folders on the table titled: "Op Weg naar het Einde" (on the road to the end), also the title of a Dutch classic by Gerard Reve. On the folders were two sets of keys to her apartment and instructions in case of her final departure.

https://vimeo.com/manage/272846419/general

Anneliese explained that after she took care of the practical side of her death, she can go back to the now and not worry about death anymore.

Merel Westermann

Merel's perception of death is also rooted in the present. She explains in the interview that the most intense moments in life are the period after giving birth and the period after bereavement. She is somehow simultaneously pragmatic and spiritual about the subject.

https://vimeo.com/manage/303686457/general

While approaching my archives with a researcher's mindset, I could actually see the material unfold in front of me instead of merely trying to reproduce my own thoughts. When I took a closer and unbiased look at the material I gathered during these two years, I didn't see sublimation or learn about death. What was revealed to me were women attempting to free themselves within the system. This shift in the mood of making made me curious about my muse's past, I wanted to dig deeper and find out more about them.