Essay

In “solitude au masculin”, curated by Inge Coolsaet for argos, the emotional struggles of men passed down from generation to generation are observed through the queer and feminist lenses of three films, spanning from the 90s through today. The internal battles of the characters reveal discrepancies, conflicting masculinities, and a distressing solitude. Savina Petkova unravels a tale of longing throughout the short film programme. 

From afar, Rio’s Carnival often seems the quintessential expression of everything Brazilian. The intense and relentless rhythms incite a trance-like celebration, where song and dance amplify the joyful aura to its utmost hypnotising. The foreign onlooker gawks at the carnival because of its enthralling release from the usual reign of restraint and rationality. To them, it plays as a sensorial reverie whose exuberant exterior embodies the “exotic”, but beyond the initial flash and pan, there’s a communal force deeply ingrained in the event.

“Listen, Grandma.” These words appear on a black screen, a summons that feels more like a pact than a simple instruction. Before any image emerges, there is a clear call to pay attention. Next, the first image surfaces and does so without flourish: in a fixed frame, an old woman is seated amid a room where life has been packed up —boxes, bags, bedding, a stool with a pair of sandals. A bright red sheet draped over a box commands our attention; it is a rectangular blaze that both hides and announces its contents. The woman props her left arm and leans forward just enough to demonstrate that listening requires posture.

Curated by Inge Coolsaet for argos, the short film programme “Sensitive Content” probes the uneasy politics of visibility in a world rocked by mass unrest and censorship, where the abundance of irrefutable evidence clashes against technologies of repression. Since the advent of the smartphone in the early 2010s, the camera has become a cyborgian extension of the body. We no longer rely solely on professional journalists to document war and conflict; rather, the masses making history are the ones making its images, risking their lives to construct a diffuse online network of counter-narratives.

Curated by Inge Coolsaet for argos, the short film programme “Why Don’t the Cops Fight Each Other?” responds to the ever-present police brutality by rejecting futile rhetoric and underlining the urgency and affective power of audio-visual art. This potentially intimidating viewing experience may unsettle viewers’ expectations, but it can also transform the apathetic spectator into an active, reflexive watcher. Across the six works, the violent apparatus of the police force is conceptually, visually, and artistically dismantled. These scattered visual forms of violence constitute a permeating tension; we watch with alertness because in ambiguity lies danger.