Yesterday, eight artistic directors of hefty European film festivals attended the opening night of the 77th Venice International Film Festival. Press releases tell me they reaffirmed the value of cinema. I wonder who was there to hear them.
About Tara Judah
Posts by Tara Judah:
I can’t write if I don’t read. This is because I don’t invent, I respond; to art, to others, and even to myself. It’s not because that’s how I understand the role of the critic (although I do) but because it is, quite simply, who and how I am
I have started watching films, exploring artwork and understanding the world in the same way that I do my grocery shopping. One tab is a virtual book splurge, where I literally and endlessly add knowledge I ought to have into an, albeit virtual, shopping basket. It’s funny that the supposed end point to this activity is to ‘check out’.
I don’t watch much, anymore; binge-watching makes me ache and devouring cinema like popcorn is too loud and too crunchy for my current disposition. But what I watch, I swim in, letting it sink into my bones, so that it can flow with the water that is already so much of me.
What does it cost to think about the world? What are the prices we pay – beyond the capitalist construction of money – for the way we act, and for the ways in which we fail to act, maybe only observe?
In Sachs’ work all I find – and all I want to find – is respectful practice. There is more than just an artist at work, here, there is a generous exploration at play.
Right now, we are all acting out the role of projectionist, operating whatever cinema-like (or not) viewing conditions we can in our various states of lockdown, all around the world.
Hard, Cracked the Wind reads the single line of poetry written on a clean white sheet of paper.