l´avenir? de F.v.G?

l´avenir? de F.v.G? begins with a pan along a gallery of large washing machines in a laundromat. In the circular motion, the camera also captures a woman; she is sitting casually on a table and looking to the top left — thus, looking back as it were, namely, against the direction in which the camera is moving. Her expression is somehow inquiring. What is it? The camera stops in front of the round window of an Elektrolux Wascator and then cuts without hesitation to the women in a knee shot: Corinne is a literal talking head. She speaks sign language. For that, she uses every fiber of her body that is visible in the frame: mouth, eyes, various muscles in her face. She pulls up her shoulders and lets them fall again. But at the center of her speaking are her long, slender hands and fingers, whose flexibility is emphasized by the glimmering bracelets dancing on her right arm.

At Corinne´s side is Aisha. Aisha, too, speaks with the help of her hands and fingers — which, however, seem to have become entirely rigid, cramped, and distorted by the bones thickened with arthritis. She is a clairvoyant from Senegal. Her medium is Kauri shells, which she throws onto the table and reads from — pointing from shell to shell. Corinne listens—her smile shines like her bracelet — or translates the prophecies. A third woman, who is visible only in a view of her back, feeds coins into the machine. She, too, is wearing bracelets: is she part of the ritual?

In l´avenir? de F.v.G?, language is made visible. Language is a craft and serves to interpret what is and what might perhaps be. What arises before our eyes is a silent film from a mythical universe, a realm of women who ask questions — and patiently and ironically question everything. (Sylvia Szely)


Translation: Lisa Rosenblatt