I Diari di Angela – Noi due cineasti
Angela Ricci Lucchi
Every day of her life, Angela kept a diary, filled with words and drawings, in which she recorded public and private matters, meetings, things she had read, everything. Including the account of two trips to Russia (1989-90). The period of the collapse of the USSR. A diary that she had been keeping in small Chinese notebooks, since before Dal Polo all’Equatore (1986), on our uninterrupted work on the violence of the 20th century. From our tours in the United States with the “scented films” of the late seventies to the Anthology Film Archive of New York and the Berkeley Pacific Film Archive... Now I reread these diaries and see again the film-diary of all those years. I am alone now, after many years of life and artistic work together. I took her up into the Eastern Alps, which she loved and where we used to walk together. Angela comes back to life for me in the handwritten words, jotted down with a light touch, that accompanied her drawings, her watercolors, rolls of paper stretching for tens of meters. I look at our private, forgotten films. Recordings that lie behind our work of reinterpreting the documentary film archives and giving them new meaning. Everyday life, made up of simple things, the people we felt close to who accompanied us on our journeys, our research in the world of stock footage, a trip to Soviet Armenia with the actor Walter Chiari. Testimonies that we gathered over the course of time.
One studied architecture in Venice, the other painting in Salzburg. Both were born in 1942, and they have lived and worked together since the early Seventies.
Most of the time they follow, and thus find the raw material for their future films, either by filming themselves or gathering archive footage. Yervant Gianikian and Angela Ricci Lucchi act as developers. Simultaneously film directors and artists, archivists and avant-gardists, anthropologists of images that have been lost and found again, the dogged despisers of Italian colonialism (Pays barbare, 2013), they have transformed the horrific disfiguration of First World War soldiers, those famous "broken faces", into a masterpiece (Oh ! Uomo..., 2004): a dream peopled with monsters. As historians through and through, they know that we have to try to shed light on our contemporary shadows, those images of the past.
In partnership with the service des cinémas du département du développement culturel du Centre Pompidou