El Cine

Last week I had the privilege of attending a film showing Elefante Blanco (White Elephant); a film set in the flavelas of Retiro, in Buenos Aires. With a spectacular script, Elefante Blanco humanized both the role of the flavelas and the catholic church in the city in a way I have never seen on screen before. The importance of Catholicism to the people here is undeniable, and this film so honestly portrayed the informal interactions of priests within these neighborhoods. It also allowed for an understanding of the interworking of an area of Buenos Aires I will never see. The film was entirely in spanish and I didn't have subtitles to bail me out, but it was well worth the brain power. Elefante Blanco was directed by Pablo Trapero and premiered at the Cannes Film festival earlier this year. The neighborhood in which this film took place is three train stops away from my station; about fifteen minuets.

Two days ago I attended the film premier of El Premio//The Prize. Part of the Festival International de Cine de los Derechos Humanos (International Film Festival of Human Rights), The film followed Cici, a 9 year old girl, through the story of a life in hiding from an Argentine regime during the Dirty War Era. The film was brilliant, and though there were subtitles (Something I did not expect) they were unnecessary. The acting was powerful, and often wordless, and the film beautifully captured the fear, confusion, longing and innocence of the protagonist. The filmography was natural and the characters honest. The most interesting element of the film was the way sound was incorporated. The sound wasn't buffered, muffled or adjusted to be the same volume the entire film. In fact, in contrast to the Hollywood norm, the sounds varied in volume so drastically that you felt the shock, pain and annoyance along with the characters; an element I believe did nothing but add to the film itself. El Premio was produced by a Mexican Film company in 2011, and ran 107 min. It was directed by Paula Markovitch and has won numerous awards including Best Picture at the Morlina Film Festival. I was also fortunate enough to meet the two actresses who stared in the movie, Paulina Galinelli Hertzog, who plays Cici, and Viviana Suraniti who plays Maestra Rosita.

Cici (left) and friend in the Cold Southern Beach Setting of El Premio

Photo Credit

It's a good time to be in Argentina. If you're a film junkie, head on down.

As always,
Besos,
Hil

The Contrast.

The city is beautiful in the fog. The mystery is alive and the imagination wide. As I sit in a cafe that is both strange and welcoming, the contrast of my location starts to sink in. Here is a city still fighting for its identity, plagued with contradiction and wide to the idea of a moment of solidity. This is a place of ongoing revolution, where people are strong in what they believe, and often even stronger in what they do not. There is a hardness that blankets the streets, but within this, hearts dictate the direction.

As my sugar dissolves slowly into my coffee, my hands shake, both from the excitement of being in a new place and lack of nourishment. This is a city where you can live off of carne and coffee, where sitting in a cafe for hours isn't a bother, it's expected, where pouring out your heart isn't revolutionary or deep, it is conversation. Here is where the language is sung rather than spoken and the phenomena of the streets are only surpassed by that of the people. The stares no longer matter, the danger, I now expect, what matters is how I feel; and here, where I least belong, I find myself feeling at home.

The Haunted Mansion

Within the Museo de Arte Español Enrique Lareta, there is a display featuring the works of famous Argentine poet Alejandra Pizarnik, coupled with hand drawn interpretations of her works by Santiago Caruso. Though spanish literature is often difficult, the effect was not lost on me. The haunting representations used female sexuality, coupled with the ideas of as a corporal animation. The macabre scenes pictured women as marionettes, fictional animals, and skeletal structures. Children were pictured not as sacred, but as temporal. These drawings (Acuarela sobre papel) sat side by side with poems of the same haunting nature. Below is an experpt from one of her poems El Despertar. 

The beauty of her images, riddled with dark features, were often reworked impressions of tales such as Alice in Wonderland. There is an air of despair within her writing, which may have been a clue into the depression that eventually led to her drug induced suicide in 1972. 

The museum was one of my favorites so far. The old house in which it was set, held remnants of the elite family that once owned it, and not unlike most other museums and homes here in Buenos Aires, there were many Catholic sculptures and paintings of biblical figures. 

Over all, a well spent, introspective afternoon, followed by lunch with a friend, a wonderful way to spend a Thursday afternoon. 

As Always,

Besos, 

Hil

St. Patrick's Cathedral

La Iglesia San Patricio

A Church told me a tale tonight,

As I listened in the dark, 

The pillars screamed injustices, 

The limestone whispered, "Hark!

The angels no more sing to herald,

now their songs lament, 

The five, the mighty chosen stones, 

The fallen represent,

Airplanes dropped the gift of life, 

into the mighty sea, 

But though we closed our doors, our hearts, 

The waves we could not flee."

Above the arch a bird so white, 

Nestled in the stones, 

And her companion black as night,

Builds in me a taunting fright, 

That we may never see it right, 

And shame it with a camera light, 

This church that none can own. 

“Maybe mistakes are what make our fate... without them what would shape our lives? Maybe if we had never veered off course we wouldn't fall in love, have babies, or be who we are. After all, things change, so do cities, people come into your life and they go. But it's comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart... and if you're very lucky, a plane ride away” 

-Carrie Bradshaw. Sex and the City. 

The thing about a city is, you are never quite sure where  you will end up. Plan it out, get a map, google it to your hearts content, but the streets have a bigger say than you do in your destination. This past week has been a week of failed plans. A circus we missed, a bar we never found, a museum that was closed. The beauty in mistakes, is what you find when you should have taken a right. 

As one prone to mistakes, misinformation, and a lot of left turns, I'm learning that in the city, it's important to understand that whether you reach your destination, or just wander around a Jewish synagogue (these things happen), the pieces of adventure we share, make the mis-adventures worthwhile.

This week, I turned 21. A monumental number to many. Spending a birthday not only away from home, but away from those people who make birthdays special for me, was difficult. All the things I would be doing in Moscow and Spokane, here, seemed unimportant. My left hand turn had taken me to Argentina and I would have to walk into my twenty first birthday surrounded by those I had known only a short while. The beautiful thing about people, is how we are wired to slip into each others lives, seamlessly filling the holes and the gaps the heart has created. The distance from my family was still there, my best friends still absent, but there was no doubt that we had, amongst ourselves, formed a family of our own. Perhaps it's a want of experiences, or perhaps it is out of necessity that friendships like these form, creating a blanket of protection from loneliness in a city of this size.

Maybe Carrie is right. Maybe mistakes do make our fate. In a jungle the size of Buenos Aires, a day without mistakes does not exist. and all those left hand turns? I think eventually they'll take you in the right direction. Following the map, can only get you so far, after that, you have to trust that what has slipped into your life, will lead you to the right road. And sometimes, wandering the streets with no destination at all, is the best way to find what you're really looking for.

As always,
Besos,
Hil

Iguazú Falls

This past weekend, we threw all our cares to the wind, hopped on a plane and went to the most northeastern province of Argentina bordering Paraguay and Brazil. Nestled in this amazonian region is one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the world, known as Iguazú Falls, and frankly, you really have to see it to understand. The beauty of this place has a way of knocking the words and the sanity right out of you. We also visited a Guarani village, the Triple frontier (a vantage point where Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil meet), a mate plantation, ancient ruins, and some beautiful jungle. I could not have asked for a better getaway, or a better group of people to take the journey with me. Enjoy!

PSA: The combination of midterms, travel, and being an inherently easy person to distract, I have, indeed skipped some travel videos, but I promise it is for your viewing pleasure that I am taking my time with both Bariloche and Mendoza.


As Always,
Besos,
Hil

"Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that
at this moment, all you have is all you need."
Sarah Ban Breathnach

Two Portraits of Home today: 

As Always,
Besos,
Hil

Give Me 5: Women

Culture Me

A week or so ago, I played the cheap card, donned my hipster shoes, and headed to the free exhibits at the  Malba. One of the best known modern art museums in Buenos Aires the Malba has hosted many famous artists in it's lifespan including Xu Solar, Diego Rivera, Antonio Berni, Frida Kahlo, and Jorge de la Vega. Chances are, you know at least one name on that list. You get it, impressive stuff. This also happened to be the weekend of the BAFICI, also known as a free film and arts festival. After taking in the wonderful, wild and wacky art (Think everything from classic muralist, to satirical feminist brail collages),   Tiff, Monae, Andrea and I headed to this mall that housed an event center and a free concert. After the free concert, we sat on the steps outside the shopping center to take in some local musical talent in the form of five wonderful street performers. Good times. Good people*.

Because we weren't allowed to take photos, I wasn't able to get the names of all the artists featured, so I'm sure there is some form of copyright discrepancy playing out in the following photos. I will also be naming the pieces of art myself. I heretofore claim 'not guilty' to owning any of these. Also, Andrea took most of them anyway. Sneaky girl. 

*I officially miss anyone that would understand this reference 

Outside of the Malba (obviously?)

I do wish you could see the line of hipsters more clearly

I call this one: Woman staring at deformed bear cub around neon fire.

Giant melty plastic pieces in abstract form

I don't have a name for this one, but one of the monster things had boobs.

This was part of the 'Bye Bye American Pie exhibit.' 

I've fondly named this one: Pretty sure this has already been done with 

Helen Bonham Carter's face in Alice and Wonderland advertisements in 2010

Finally cleaned out from under my bed, here, you can have it. 

My dad would steal this bench in a heartbeat

Anna Hein in 65 years

This was the band we saw. The lead singer strikingly resembled Edna Mode 

I don't remember their name. The bassist was a badass. Think Sloan in Raise Your Voice

Inside of the Shopping/Event Center

Of course there was an indoor ferris wheel. 

Waiting for Monae to finish taking pictures

The street band. Yes, that is a cello and our friend with the beard is singing Willie Nelson

As always, Besos, 

Hil