LECTURE BY LYUBOV ARKUS MAGICIAN AND OUTSIDER AND SCREENING OF PETER SHEPOTINNIK’S FILM KHAMDAMOV ON VIDEO
On October 22, the Angleterre Cinema Lounge will host a lecture by director and film scholar Lyubov Arkus, titled Magician and Outsider.
“This is not a story about Khamdamov’s creative work, but a story about the person with whom I have lived much of my life, and the most difficult moment I had to share with him,” says Arkus.
That same night, Peter Shepotinnik will present his rarely seen film Khamdamov on Video (1995), restored specially for the festival.
“Miracles do happen: modern technology has allowed us to bring back our old film, put together on the fly nearly 30 years ago after many hours of conversations with Rustam. It is borderline impossible to find words that could match Asya Kolodizhner’s and my impressions of our interactions with Khamdamov at that time—interactions that, despite the unimaginable vicissitudes of harsh times, thankfully continue to this day.
Even more challenging, though, is trying to transcend the raw materiality inherent in filmmaking in order to follow the unstoppable motion of Khamdamov’s thought and his drawing. This motion pulsates everywhere—whether in his reflections on art, or in his works that grace world’s most prestigious galleries worldwide, or in a random stroke on a crumpled napkin left on a table in some Moscow café,” says Shepotinnik.
KHAMDAMOV ON VIDEO
1995, Russia, 33 min, color, o.v. – Russian
Director Peter Shepotinnik
This is the artist’s monologue, uninterrupted by anything but fragments of his own works. At times, Khamdamov resembles a rare seashell, within which the sound of time itself resonates. No questions are asked of the shell — it is simply listened to. Peter Shepotinnik: «Miracles do happen: modern technology has allowed us to bring back our old film, put together on the fly nearly 30 years ago after many hours of conversations with Rustam. It is borderline impossible to find words that could match Asya Kolodizhner’s and my impressions of our interactions with Khamdamov at that time — interactions that, despite the unimaginable vicissitudes of harsh times, thankfully continue to this day. Even more challenging, though, is trying to transcend the raw materiality inherent in filmmaking and, as much as possible, follow the fluid, unstoppable motion of Khamdamov’s art. This motion pulsates everywhere — whether in his drawings that grace prestigious galleries worldwide, or in a random stroke on a crumpled napkin left on a table in some Moscow café.»