Archive for the 'Dear Robert' Category

MILESTONES by Robert Kramer and John Douglas at the Quinzaines des realisateurs.

Sunday, May 11th, 2008

To be released soon on DVD…
“For its 40th anniversary, La quinzaine des réalisateurs organizes a special screening of Milestones, by Robert Kramer and John Douglas.This master piece is the third chapter of Kramer’s “American trilogy”. Shot in 1975 on 16mm, Milestones is a long journey through the United States during the 70’s, the picture of a country built upon genocide and slavery.”
Camilla Gaiaschi, Capricci Films

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PRESS RELEASE
for the Festival de Cannes
by Cyril Béghin ,
with a poem by Jean-Pierre Oudart, Cahiers du cinéma,
translation by Keja Ho :

It is right from the beginning of Milestones, the moment where an elder woman telling the story of her childhood, a Italian immigrant in the United States at the beginning of the twentieth century, does not remember the dates : was it 1916, 1917, 1915 ? Jump cut, and the edit runs on : archives and present shots of her, documentary characters and characters who are fictionalized slide into a gentle collision, as in the image of the whole film – swirls of stories unfold, immense spaces open at each memory that is disturbed and awakened to move ahead. How to go further ?
At the end of the 1960’s, Robert Kramer made In the Country (1966), The Edge (1967), Ice (1969) – three films that probe in the spirits and the minds the limits of a desire for revolution and armed struggle, in the United-States of the Vietnam War and various movements of liberation. He co-founded in 1967 the Newsreel collective and participated in making intervention and information films distributed by activist networks ; with John Douglas he left for Vietnam in 1969 and brought back the images of People’s War. From the beginning of 1970, the Movement, exhausted by the difficulties of the struggle, seeks a second wind. The answer to the question of revolution goes through the communities and seeking other bonds with populations and territories. Milestones is the Grand Oeuvre of this desire and re-created impulse. The film, at first entirely written between 1971 and 1972, and during the following two years rethought and shot with John Douglas and in the company of friends, militants and intellectuals close to the Movement. Afterwards it is the object of a long and deep editing process, by which Kramer and Douglas again reformulate the fractioning, intertwining and swirling. Milestones is invited to Cannes in 1975. The community of persons, who participated, at first opposed to the very principal of festivals, accepts because there is, shortly after, the possibility to present the film in Portugal, at that time in full revolution.
How to go further ?


Cyril Béghin, Press release for Festival de Cannes / Quinzaine des realisateurs.
Translation Keja Ho.


The voices, in Milestones, are surprising
because we are not accustomed, here,
to memories relentlessly running in this way,
of telling about the complications of the body, the heart, ideals.
They do not flow to the bed of dreams,
they do not flow to the trails of innocence,
they scarcely know naming flowers.
Which bodies, there, taught them to always mark
a target, with such tough agreements, and echoes,
so animal and so sexual ?
to be the bastion of memories, protect the images,
carry the struggles ?
They do not draw forth the laughter of young Americans
who celebrate it with their eyes and white teeth smiles,
they have shut the door to tears, forged their weapons,
cut the thorns.
They now carry the stones from the trail.
The circle and the music of voices are chorus to beautiful
images of the wandering tribe, but let us not be tricked :
The writing of the film is of an infinite cruelty.
It places in actuality only bodies that have been worked, heartbreaking
departures, hazardous homecomings. It puts us
to work, us, by strength of repetition that only matters
the encounters the liveliness of the words, the song of tenderness,
the sharpness of love.
Is it important to you to feel and know something
about this, to say it, to sing it ? So question
your guts, count your guts, enlighten your pleasure,
and give it substance of body – writing, politically.
This is what in USA was made by Robert Kramer and John
Douglas, at the price of many segregation acts
about which we will also have to question ourselves,
us, here, in France.


Jean-Pierre Oudart, Cahiers du cinéma.

C’est, dès le début de Milestones, le moment ou une vieille femme racontant sa vie d’enfant d’immigrés italiens dans les Etats-Unis du début du 20ème siècle, ne se souvient plus des dates : était-ce 1916, 1917, 1915 ? Montage court, et le montage court : archives et plans d’elle au présent, personnages documentaires et personnages fictionnés glissent dans une collision douce, à l’image de tout le film – des tourbillons d’histoire se déploient, des espaces immenses s’ouvrent à chaque trouble de la mémoire qui se réveille et va de l’avant. Comment aller plus loin ?
A la fin des années 60, Robert Kramer a réalisé In the Country (1966), The Edge (1967), Ice (1969) - trois films qui sondent dans les esprits et dans les corps les limites d’un désir de révolution et de lutte armée, dans les Etats-Unis de la guerre du Vietnam et des divers mouvements de libération. Il a cofondé en 1967 le collectif Newsreel et participé à la réalisation de films d’intervention et d’information distribués par des réseaux militants ; avec John Douglas, il est parti en 1969 au Vietnam et en a ramené les images de People’s War. A partir du début des années 70, le Mouvement, épuisé par les difficultés des luttes, cherche un second souffle. La réponse à la question de la révolution passe par les communautés et la recherche d’autres liens avec les populations et les territoires. Milestones est le grand œuvre de cette impulsion désirée et recréée. Le film, d’abord entièrement écrit entre 1971 et 1972, est au fil des deux années suivantes repensé et tourné avec John Douglas et en compagnie d’amis, militants et intellectuels proches du Mouvement. Il est ensuite l’objet d’un long et profond processus de montage, par lequel Kramer et Douglas en reformulent encore les fractionnements, entrecroisements et tourbillons. Milestones est invité à Cannes en 1975. La communauté des personnes qui y ont participé, d’abord opposée au principe même des festivals, accepte parce qu’il y a, peu après, la possibilité de le présenter au Portugal, alors en pleine révolution. Comment aller plus loin ?

 

Cyril Béghin pour Le Festival de Cannes.

Les voix, dans Milestones, nous étonnent
parce qu’on n’a pas coutume, chez nous,
de filer ainsi sans relâche la mémoire,
de dire les accrocs du corps, du coeur, des idéaux.
Elles ne coulent pas au lit des rêves,
elles ne coulent pas les sentiers de l’innocence,
elles ne savent guère nommer les fleurs.
Quels corps, là-bas, leur ont appris à flécher toujours
une cible, avec des accords si durs, et des échos
si fauves et si sexuels ?
pour remparder les souvenirs, protéger les images,
porter les luttes ?
Elles ne font pas éclore le rire des jeunes Américains
qui le célèbrent avec leurs yeux et leurs dents,
elles ont fermé la porte aux larmes, forgé les armes,
taillé les ronces.
Elles charrient maintenant les pierres du chemin.
Le cercle et la musique des voix font choeur aux belles
images de la tribu errante, mais ne nous y trompons
pas : l’écriture du film est d’une cruauté infinie.
Elle ne met en acte que des corps travaillés, des départs
déchirants, des retours hasardeux. Elle nous met en
travail, nous, à force de répéter que seuls importent des
rencontres le vif des paroles, le chant des tendresses,
le tranchant de l’amour.
Vous importe t-il d’en éprouver et d’en savoir quelque
chose, de le dire, de le chanter ? Alors questionnez
vos tripes, contez vos trips, éclairez votre jouissance,
et donnez-leur corps-écrits, politiquement.
C’est ce qu’ont fait aux USA Robert Kramer et John
Douglas, au prix de beaucoup d’actes de ségrégation
sur lesquels nous devrons aussi nous interroger,
nous, ici, en France.


Jean-Pierre Oudart, Cahiers du cinema.

Dear Robert, (Letter to Robert Kramer)

Friday, November 10th, 2006

Dear Robert,

As I am writing a few verses (1) this morning under the pouring rain of Seattle, I come to realize it’s been now 7 years that you’re gone, and here I am now blogging in your own native country, still wondering what I am doing here…for now nearly 6 years. I guess I still miss as much a good inflamed conversation, with the same intensity as 7 years ago, a good loud, raw roar carried by the respiration of an old dinosaur, going from a form to its source, from the image to its true nature, whatever…all that under the pressure of some crazy environment; I feel today the same selfish frustration of not being able to just email you again and wait for a good deep response as if forbidden for ever of something very real.

I guess also it’s fair to say that I probably wouldn’t be blogging today, not only because you actually showed me how to use the internet for the first time , and helped me send out my first email, coincidentally, to my father in your own country…but because of course you were blogging before blogs existed (2), creating connections at many levels, whether human or electric (3), connections that still reveal themselves today, everyday a bit more, as I have tea with Marianne on Pine Street, on Capitol Hill in Seattle, or reread my own history from todays eyes.
So what’s happened in these 7 years? what’s happened since the morning of the 10 th of November 1999 when I woke up as paralyzed as a log, as if all had stopped, my head ringing like a 3 yard Tibetan singing bowl and received that phone call from Keja (4), telling me we would see of you no more? not much , I mean , relatively speaking, a few world events just making more obvious what was obvious before…maybe a bit more dramatically outplayed. As for myself I am a bit older, two children, not more patient, a bit less fiery. probably. I live in one of the richest cities in the world and it is quite different than where we met. Far from the Algerian tv satellites covering the roofs of Roubaix, far from the miles of brick walls and ghost houses weaving the city in an endless depressed song, far from the cafes opening at 7.00am and getting the neighborhood drunk after the checks of welfare have been checked, maybe closer to the pit, maybe closer to the source of all this mess. Maybe not. You asked me once why I kept always throwing myself against walls, well I guess that’s changed a bit.
I realize I have much to tell you, and perhaps I will write you soon again. You also said , never let anyone hurt you. This advice I follow.
I miss you,

Vanessa

Shabbat Shalom.

(1)
See precedent post at
http://heregrowthetrees.org/?p=41

(2)
http://www.windwalk.net/

(3)
http://www.windwalk.net/scripts/p_rkcities.htm

(4)
Keja Ho Kramer in Rouge.
http://www.rouge.com.au/9/eyes.html

HOUSE_Project for an intervention_01

Thursday, October 15th, 1998

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