The portrait of my mother
A day in my mother's life. The documentary shows her daily routine, something that I personally find very interesting as I believe that the true self of a person lies in the "insignificant".
Related Works
While we dream, much of the information that the brain involuntarily collects during the day, is intersected and integrated with previous experience and can be used in future behaviors.
The documentary is a city-symphony focusing on the people of the city, their interrelations, their behavior, their habits, their relationship with the city and how all of the above were affected by the lockdown, the mandatory use of a mask, and the policing and surveillance.
Α thought upon all the things we don't listen to, until we can't but listen. Αη animation featuring a creature balancing over the words that are haunting her.
It’s Monday, the 13th of December 1943, the small town of Kalavryta is set on fire by the occupation army of Nazi Germany while the entire male population is being gathered on a nearby hill and shot dead. This war crime will go down in history, along with the massacre of Acqui Division, as the largest mass killing in Greece during WWII. Three men who witnessed these events as kids, locked up with the rest women, children and elderly people in Kalavryta’s primary school, recall this traumatic experience.
Where do memories go when they are lost? Are they still where we left them, if we don’t recall them? In this room, as private and irrevocable as our memory, objects animate a series of scenarios. A memory floods the room, another struggles to disclose itself, another one leaks back and forth in time. The idea of the ‘other’ hovers between what has already passed and what is reminisced every time. We never recollect events and spaces as such. We always enliven recollections in our own way. Through constant evocations that seek to perpetuate the existence of the ‘room’, memories converse with space and time, as well as with a part of ourselves. Either as past, forgetfulness or loss, they always contain something that is already gone.
The Wroom, is a movie that start with two red iron cars, a 1953 Chevrolet 1100 & a 1954 Magirus Deutz small fire engine, spilling out of a race of skills, flips and drifts at speed in the dining room of their home. In a brightly room, in a world where imagination knows no bounds.
