This short video just like many other videos came out of a little bit of coincidence and unfulfilled other plans. The digital print, which was initially meant to be used only as a background for a different video piece, ended up as an illustration of difficult mother-daughter relationship. It is a story about politics, disappointment and anger, faulty communication and finally forgiveness, understanding and growing up.
Marek Koterski, my favourite filmmaker in his films likes to raise a subject of family scripts, which we tend to unconsciously manifold in our own lives. In We are all Christs, Adam, the main character ruminates why he never caressed his mother’s face. After all, she’s once been a girl, virgin, she must have been dreaming about beautiful love. Instead, like thousands other women she was denuded from her own identity to become a carer, cleaner and object to blame. accounted for every mistake and slip. My attitude towards my mother was no different.
In my opinion growing up is a process, which includes shifting your own perspectives and focal points from yourself onto other people. We learn how to understand different contexts and situations; that everybody around us have their own stories and backgrounds. We calm down, stop flip out and blame others for our failures. In the end, we learn how to get over old faults and make the best of our time here.
That’s why I found it very important for my growing up to find out who am I and where do I come from. For the first time I opened myself to listen to my parents. I listened about their troubled lives and hardship, they growing up in the shadow of their parents traumatized by the cruelties of WW2. Their struggle to lead normal lives under political regime, wasted chances and opportunities they could never get. How shocking it was to see people who, despite my childish illusions have never been omnipotent and indestructible. I understood and accepted the differences between us, stopped having more and more demands.
I was avoiding the subject for quite a while, waiting for a tactful way of visualizing it. The idea emerged from a forgotten, old beat discovered accidentally in my sound experiments folder. The text emerged while listening- recorded in a first go.
My intention was to keep the text simple, almost abstract. I wanted to illustrate broken, distorted communication. What isn’t said in this text is meant to speak more than words.