"It’s the doing that’s the important thing. I equate film-making with sandcastles. You get a bunch of mates together and go down to the beach and build a great sandcastle. You sit back and have a beer, the tide comes in, and in twenty minutes it’s just smooth sand. That structure you made is in everybody’s memories, and that’s it. You all start walking home, and someone says ‘Are you going to come back next Saturday and build another one?’ And another guy says, ‘Well, OK, but I’ll do moats this time, not turrets!’ But that, for me, is the real joy of it all, that it’s just fun, and nothing else… If I look back at all my work, it all seems like yesterday. I can’t imagine how all this time got away. All of it is basically the same; none of it comes from any brilliance. It comes from enthusiasm, a little bit of ego and tenacity. It’s been such a gift to do any of this.”
Alain Resnais just passed away… I will always remember how him and Chris Marker changed my perception of Africa and the rest of the World watching this short documentary “Statues also die”. This film was released in 1953 and was years ahead of its time depicting imperialism - the political, economical and cultural exploitation of colonial possessions. I would make this film analysis compulsory at school as a way to learn to understand and respect cultural differences. It’s the best antidote to the stupid sense of superiority that “developed countries” have when looking at “developing countries”.
I don’t need to be rich or have a fancy home. I just want to go to sleep at night knowing my labor had heart, I’ve loved fiercely and lived close enough to the edge that I can see the waves kiss the rocks.
Have been asked countless times today what this photograph, Signal, means to me. While standing on the shores of the Red Sea that evening in Djibouti City, it felt as if I was photographing all of us — you, me, our brothers and sisters — all desperately trying to connect to our loved ones. In this tenuous period of human migration where despair and hope simultaneously intertwine, we seek to find comfort, a sense of balance, a desire to be home, reconnecting to something stable, reassuring. This photograph of Somalis trying to “catch” a signal is an image of all of us as we stand at the crossroads of humanity, where we must ask ourselves what is truly important, demanding our collective attention in a global society where the issues of migration, borders, war, poverty, technology and communication intersect.
— John Stanmeyer (C)
Memory of the Youth, Menovsky
"Hay algo envidiable en los adultos que siguen dividiendo su mundo entre buenos y malos: todo debe ser más fácil así. Su partido político es bueno. El de los otros, malo. Su equipo de fútbol es el mejor. Al rival le ayudan los árbitros. La maldad es cosa de otros países, de otros líderes, otras gentes. Pueden despojarlo todo de matices y zanjar una discusión sobre el conflicto palestino, la eutanasia o la (in) existencia de Dios con una frase. Y sin embargo, a mí me ocurre lo contrario: cuanto más viajo, más experiencias acumulo y más mayor me hago, más me cuesta distinguir entre buenos y malos. Si me preguntan qué he aprendido todos estos años, en la guerra, la revolución o el desastre natural, diría que somos bruma. Nunca todo claridad, rara vez completa oscuridad."
Pequeño extracto del libro de David Jimenez “El lugar más feliz del mundo”.
"To anyone who continues to deny the reality that is climate change, I dare you to get off your ivory tower and away from the comfort of you armchair. I dare you to go to the islands of the Pacific, the islands of the Caribbean and the islands of the Indian ocean and see the impacts of rising sea levels; to the mountainous regions of the Himalayas and the Andes to see communities confronting glacial floods, to the Arctic where communities grapple with the fast dwindling polar ice caps, to the large deltas of the Mekong, the Ganges, the Amazon, and the Nile where lives and livelihoods are drowned, to the hills of Central America that confronts similar monstrous hurricanes, to the vast savannas of Africa where climate change has likewise become a matter of life and death as food and water becomes scarce. Not to forget the massive hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico and the eastern seaboard of North America. And if that is not enough, you may want to pay a visit to the Philippines right now”
L’art se fait avec les mains. Elles sont l’instrument de la création, mais d’abord l’organe de la connaissance. Pour tout homme, je l’ai montré ; pour l’artiste, plus encore, et selon des voies particulières. C’est qu’il recommence toutes les expériences primitives : comme le Centaure, il tente les sources et les souffles. Tandis que nous recevons le contact avec passivité, il le recherche, il l’éprouve. Nous nous contentons d’un acquis millénaire, d’une connaissance automatique et peut-être usée, enfouie en nous. Il la ramène à l’air libre, il la renouvelle – il part du début. N’est-ce donc pas la même chose pour l’enfant ?
— Henri Focillon, Éloge de la main, 1934
I have truly dreamt of building that house many time. In that dream, I talk to an architect and tell her “let’s draw the contours of a space that could never completely be closed. What if we only use windows and doors ?”
"a physical book is like a shark. Sharks are old: there were sharks in the ocean before the dinosaurs. And the reason there are still sharks around is that sharks are better at being sharks than anything else is. Physical books are tough, hard to destroy, bath-resistant, solar-operated, feel good in your hand: they are good at being books, and there will always be a place for them. "
"You don’t survive a regime like that because you are stronger or clever. You survive because people who die help you. You have to transmit [their stories]. It’s what the survivors have to do. When you survive genocide it is like you are dead already and have been reborn again. But you are reborn with the death inside you and you have to talk."