Berlinale – The Kites

Berlinale – The Kite

While playing at at a river between Iran and Irak, a small girl loses her kite to the other side of the border. The boys who play there, try to make contact but not only language seperates them. The dangerous playgrounds hold explosive leftovers from the last war.

When we went to the Berlinale 2020 we had heard of Covid before. But it did not make any difference: „This might be the last one“ someone said „and after this it is apocalypse.“ They might have been right we woulnd´t know until two months later, safely in our homes.

Several small groups of filmmakers gathered in a room with couches and hot beverages. Intimate, friendly and with a cool courisosity what might be happening next. The selected nominees for the generational competition at Berlinale had ensembled to glance on a prospective future.

The award ceremony was not until thursday and hundreds of films could be visited with free entrance. We had looked, seen and talked with some of the others teams before my new group would find their curiosity nursed, their stomach satisfied and the hydration appropriate. Time to watch some movies.

https://www.berlinale.de/en/archive-selection/archive-2020/programme/detail/202006999.html

Morocco – life like

We travelled as four into Morroco. Our van broke down in Saragosa, Spain, we fixed it in Tangier. My main memory is the little bumb we did when arriving at the port in Tarifa in south of spain. One night in a hostel right at the Strait of Gibraltar that disconnects Europe from Africa by only 13 km.

We leave early in the morning, barely a jog from the hostel. We step onto the ferry, leave the van in the belly and enjoy the ride. There is an old american memory anchored in this part of the world. Jimmy Hendrix, the beat generation all had reported on the oriental promise it holds.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2010/nov/23/tangier-william-burroughs-naked-lunch

After some relaxing days in the high atlas, with hikes and camping, I travelled off towards Marrakesh, buzzling City of سوق . Find a sweet stop at Essouria and travel back to the inner Atlas.

Cities like Fes and Meknes

It takes long busride to get here, one of them peaking at 12 hours. The latter one a city with little tourist ambition remains still as daily life sweeps through it lightfilled corners.

As I made my days through the city and tried to capture something that felt more life like than the globalized frontlines of Hallo, Guten Tag! Möchten Sie … etwas kaufen? to kind hearted, warm, people, genuine exhaustion and a secret place for pride.

life like

Photographing people in their work environment resembles an intrusion in privat space. The instruments are laid out, the cat is watching, the hissing from a motor and the fire burning, here is hardly place for a bystander. The Heat from the sun and half a working day has the dark room burning. Colours are beeing created from the depth of a reverse circular pyramid bowl. The wool later strung up on a coat rack to be swung in again.

(Morocco 2015)

I have walked deep into the bazar. The tourists are gone, it’s wuzzing with activity but only the occasional scream prices wares to be processed and resold at the front. Here is the heart of the bazars own production.

In an attempt for fresh air i leave the labyrinth of hallways toward the back exit. A friendly bookstore owner allows me to take his photo. Outside is for breaks. Inside is for work. Throughout the alley workshops burn, hammer, saw. Someone asks me for money. The stark reality behind the bazar is a slight mix of poverty, opportunity and people easing with calm towards the unknown.

& leisure

The photo marks an especially composite time in my life where i was not anymore and had not yet become. As Covid-Sars 2 had hit society with no remedy and little outlook for what would happen next, i do not want to determine what the future is gonna look like.

Days in quarantine pass as if walking through spilled honey. Time pressures my mind and yet days go by without change. The temporarilty of theatre had made it difficult to chronicle the moments of past sucess as little more than a picture or video.

With only traces available, i want to favour what is documented best. In this way, this blog does not cover the enteirety of what i work or do as a hobby. But only what i liked the most in either one of them.

Digicam 2013

Canon Digicam 2013

I spent the first day in Istanbul looking for new shoes. After nearly a month of walking on greek roads my blue 5 Euro linen sandals would just not cut it anymore. Spending 2 hours through busses, taxis and whatnot i found new, good boots but no way back. An Imam literally appeared out of nowhere to help.

I am not entirely sure how he knew or where he got the time to accompany me back but he had guessed right. I wasn’t able to get back to the center even half an hour into the return travel. But here I was, this bridge and then the right, two steps up and simply straight until the sign. And this time, it came with another surprise.