Showing posts with label Holocaust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holocaust. Show all posts

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Chantal Akerman (1950-2015): The Passing of Time on Film & in Life

Chantal Akerman in 2012 (photo by Mario De Munck) 

Reviewing:
I Don't Belong Anywhere:  The Cinema of Chantal Akerman - documentary, directed by Marianne Lambert  (Belgium, 2015, 67 minutes); and 
No Home Movie - documentary, directed by Chantal Akerman (Belgium, 2015, 115 minutes)

The death of experimental filmmaker Chantal Akerman, an apparent suicide, on October 5th was a personal tragedy for her sister Sylviane Akerman, the sole surviving member of their immediate family.  It was also a major loss for world cinema & the art scene in general.  You should get to know Ms. Akerman, if you don't already, especially now that she can't produce any new work.

Viewing No Home Movie & I Don't Belong Anywhere at the University of Wisconsin's Cinematheque in Madison last weekend moved me.  They not only gave me a deeper appreciation for avant-garde film, they also left me with a profound sympathy for a woman I'd only vaguely heard of before.  

This Jewish lesbian, the elder daughter of Auschwitz survivors, was a vital humanist who made just one mainstream "commercial" movie in English, the romantic comedy & box-office bomb A Couch in New York (1997), starring Juliette Binoche & William Hurt.  

Her esteem among cinephiles & adventurous critics is based primarily on a film released when Akerman was 24 years old, a mesmerizingly minimalist 201-minute study of a middle-aged woman. Bearing the prosaic title Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975), it concerns a Holocaust survivor who eventually murders a man who pays her for sex.

This weird feminist masterpiece, structured in long steady takes with soft ambient sound, even influenced such notable male directors as the Austrian Michael Haneke as well as Americans Gus Van Sant & Todd Haynes.  In it, Akerman used images to suggest that "the domestic lives of women are the stuff of art," according to critic & devoted fan Richard Brody (see http://www.newyorker.com/culture/richard-brody/postscript-chantal-akerman.)

In his New Yorker tribute, Brody claims that Akerman's early films prove that "the pressures of women's unquestioned, unchallenged, and unrelieved confinement in the domestic realm and in family roles is a societal folly that leads to ruin, a form of violence that begets violence."  Throughout her career, she disrupted the escapist tendencies of film, a la Bertolt Brecht's "alienation effect" in theater.  

Akerman was an enfant terrible, a film-school dropout who acted in her apocalyptic first short film (Blow Up My Town) at age 18.  After moving to New York at age 21, she joined the circle of experimental filmmakers loosely led & sustained by Jonas Mekas.  Akerman remained a determined & clever iconoclast throughout her life.  

During an extensive series of interviews for I Don't Belong Anywhere - conducted in New York, Europe & (apparently) Israel - Akerman shares several revealing, provocative thoughts with fellow director Marianne Lambert.  She asserts, for example, that the line between fictional movies & documentary film is necessarily fluid. 

"As soon as you create a frame [for a cinematic shot], it's a fiction," Akerman points out.  She always aimed "to make people feel the passing of time" in her films.  The static effect can be boring, even excruciating in its refusal to tell a conventionally entertaining story.  But the result rarely seems contrived or intentionally dull, as in the experimental films of Andy Warhol.  Hers ring eerily true to life.

We see Akerman's theories demonstrated perfectly in No Home Movie.  A poetic melancholy documentary about Akerman's affectionate relationship with her ailing mother Natalia, who died in 2014, the film drained the director emotionally.  By depicting mundane conversations (some via Skype) with her beloved "maminka," Akerman gently bonds the audience to them both.  Lengthy interspersed shots of landscapes, some through the window of a car, offer respite from all the understated mother-daughter drama.

Following a hostile reception after the press screening at the Locarno (Switzerland) film festival, Akerman took her own life, according to a report in Le Monde (see http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/07/arts/chantal-akerman-belgian-filmmaker-dies-65.html?_r=0).  Sylviane Akerman said that her gifted sister had been hospitalized for depression in Paris shortly before attending the Locarno event.

Acting on firm principal, Akerman refused to participate in film festivals dedicated only to works by gay, Jewish or female directors, regarding them as ghettoizing.  She considered herself a nomad, as reflected in the ambiguous title of her final film, No Home Movie.  In fact, she embodied the modern Jewish diaspora in microcosm by maintaining simultaneous residences in the United States, France & Israel.

Here's a sample of the sensitive, provocative voice of Chantal Akerman, from a 2011 online interview (see http://www.lolajournal.com/2/pajama.html) prompted by the release of Almayer's Folly (2011), an "ecstatic, hallucinatory yet trenchantly political" (per Brody) adaptation of Joseph Conrad's novel of the same name, shot on location in Cambodia:  

"To make ‘art’ is usually wonderful. The art market is another thing. It’s often tied to power, to the phallus – but not always.

"In cinema, when you make a film, even for four people, anybody at all can enter the darkened theater; it’s democratic. In the art world, there’s an elitism that reigns sometimes that’s tied to capital. Fortunately, not always. In the Renaissance, the Medicis let Michaelangelo make revolutionary work like ‘The Slaves.’ Claude Berri, who, like my father, was a small Jew who came from leather and fur, would get up and say he was looking at his Yves Kleins. They were his. What was he really looking at, the painting or its value? Both, without a doubt; I don’t know. Ultimately, it’s touching.

"My father also started to buy paintings at the end of his life. Bad paintings, but he liked them. I find it very moving."

[© 2016 by J.C. Mrazek]

Links:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUStWsegZ0k

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Stitching History from the Holocaust: a Czech dressmaker's story sewn into life at the Jewish Museum Milwaukee


There’s another impressive little exhibit at the Jewish Museum Milwaukee (JMM) through February28th of next year:  Stitching History from the Holocaust.  It tells the heartbreaking story of a German-speaking Czech Jew named Hedvika “Hedy” Strnad & her husband Paul.  At age 39, Hedy ran a successful dressmaking shop in Aussig (Usti nad Labem), Czechoslovakia.  But it was 1938.  
The Nazis came & swallowed the Sudetenland, with ignominious Allied blessing, destroying the Strnads & their whole Jewish community within a few terrifying years.  Perhaps worse, our government did nothing to help the Strnads when they desperately sought refuge in the USA.  Paul's typed letters to cousin Alvin Strnad in Milwaukee hang on the gallery walls like silent screams.  
An envelope from abroad bears the dreaded SS logo, an occupying bureaucratic censor’s stamp of approval. The so-called affidavit of necessity required by Uncle Sam didn’t suffice to save the couple.  They were deemed too average to deserve a precious US visa.  
But this story has a sort of happy ending. In a sense, the exhibit itself is an act of redemption, a gesture of regret on behalf of a talented woman, a cultured Czech citizen who died beside her husband in the Warsaw Ghetto in April 1942.  The JMM worked with the costume shop of the Milwaukee Repertory Theater in bringing several of Hedy Strnad’s designs to life.  
These artists of cloth took great pains to find or create just the right fabrics, prints, colors & other details.  The seamstresses' results are beautifully draped on forms: a pair of modest blue & white dresses as well as a fine modern lady’s well-shouldered grey suit.  The Old World patterns that led to these retro-garments were probably illustrated by Hedy herself.  Meant to be the Strnads ticket to escape the coming Holocaust, they at least inspired a moving labor of love 75 years later.   
Prof. Beverly Gordon, a fashion & textile historian at the University of Wisconsin (Madison), gave a companion talk called “Hedvika Strnad & Czech Fashions of the 1930s” at a JMM luncheon on December 4th.  She suggested that, given a history marked by medieval pogroms, the 1745 expulsion from Prague & the anti-semitic horror shows inflicted by central European fascists, Czech Jews could never feel entirely secure.  No wonder the paranoid literary genius of Franz Kafka sprang from Prague Jewry.  
Nazi documents show that 92,000 remaining Jews were deported to concentration camps & walled ghettos from Bohemia & Moravia by the Germans in 1941-42.  The vast majority died during the war, either by brutal murder or criminal neglect.  A lucky few (e.g. pre-war Kindertransports to England) managed to escape the genocide.  The Strnads too tried hard in 1939.  
Unfortunately, like many others abandoned by indifferent foreign authorities, Hedy & Paul didn’t manage to get a golden ticket to freedom.  Official US records show that thousands of American refugee visas, which might have been issued to European Jews in 1939, instead went unused, making Adolf Hitler's plans for a Final Solution feasible.  Imagine what a vibrant would-be immigrant like Hedy Strnad might have added to our country & its culture.  
It makes me wonder about those Central American refugees that our federal government deports to dangerous places.  How many more Hedy Strnads must die before we learn compassion for endangered strangers?
NOTE:  This exhibit provided the occasion for a catalog about the Strnads & their plight, available for purchase on the JMM website:  www.jewishmuseummilwaukee.org  
[© 2014 by J.C. Mrazek]