Photo: www.violetalapelicula.cl

Why do I feel so much pain, Violeta Parra?

Or on how to assess the Chilean film “Violeta went to heaven” on opening night in Washington DC

© Patricio Zamorano

Translation by chileno and the author. Para la versíon original en castellano ver abajo.

So much pain I have felt tonight, Violeta, so much pain…

It hurts because Chile hurts… That’s it, isn’t it singer? Painter? Creator of forms and illusions? Chile hurt you with every second of recognition given in the few countries that through the miracle of your poverty chose to give shelter to your singing, your paintings, your intense tapestries like the brilliance of your sad eyes. Everything was empty upon returning to the homeland, down in the lost South of painful childhood and wandering life, where the people let you down in your dreams to universalize (in the half moon of the audience) each drop of creation exuded from your hands. The people let you down when the indifference of the public you longed for and loved so much hit you like a Santiago winter. How many artists have succumbed to the loneliness of the stage, beloved singer? So much despair, isn’t it? When silence is deaf to applause...

Oh singer of my soul! Chile killed you. Chile killed Víctor Jara. Chile killed Allende. Chile also killed Neruda (without a doubt, the soldiers spread the cancer with the demonic stench that grew amongst the flames from La Moneda¹). Chile killed De Rokha, another genius buried under the cold murmur spread by the mainstream. In a short time, Chile physically lost its most profound figures. It lost its land. The earth moaned.

Years before, Chile had also killed her first Nobel Laureate, the barefoot girl from Valle del Elqui, Gabriela² of profound “Mistralian” pain, always looking out of the corner of her eye towards the southern country that denied her so much, despite a sacred litany of verse and prose.

Chile killed democracy, Chile killed the communists and the socialists. Chile killed the joy of life for two, even three decades, if we add up the frustration of the Concertación³ in the nineties... Dearest Violeta, with your trigger and shot you began the dark age that was upon us, that fatal 1967, under the tent only visited during those last weeks by the wind accompanied by cold rain, as it only rains in the Mapocho Valley.

Don’t worry, my dear Violeta.

With your gunshot, Chile received an urgent affront, the fruit of our own miseries: The soldiers preyed on the people, supported at the same time by many twisted in their cannibalistic frenzies. The people killed the people. That 11th of September in 1973, dearest Violeta, your heart would have tightened in a grimace of horror to see the slaughter led by the jingoistic soldier. The Chile that ignored you in life, dear Violeta, was the same that squeezed your trigger, and the trigger of Allende, and the trigger of the soldier who took no mercy on Víctor, and the trigger of the thousands of those executed in the streets of Santiago… (the eternal trigger, as long as the rifle that the real contours of Chile represents in a map of its own geography. Santiago, where death circled the majority trapped for the massacre, is situated --oh sweet irony!-- near the firing pin…).

Oh Violeta, but your songs remain! Oh Violeta, you left us your “Volver a los diecisiete”! Violeta, you left us your hawk, the sorrows of your Arauco, your “Run-run” that made you suffer so much from unrequited love! Your guitar transpositions, peasant girl from Lautaro, universalized you. Your “Thanks to life” (“Gracias a la vida”), that profound song full of laughter and tears, is enjoyed by both rich snobs and blue-collar workers. Diplomatic bodies take advantage of you to sell the “Chile” brand, and your soul writhes… A little bit ironic, isn’t? A bit of pissing yourself laughing, that Chilean way of laughing, at the same time bitter, sarcastic and full of the joy of life, the life of islands adrift, the life of the Chilean isle, where your glory came to die in a body, a female Christ crucified on guitar timbers, to free you and liberate us from your soul that flies, now full of your desires, before the wide sky of our misery…

Notes.

¹La Moneda is the Palace in Santiago that serves as the seat of the President of the Republic of Chile.

²Gabriela Mistral was a Chilean poet, educator, diplomat and feminist. She was the first Latin American to win the Nobel Prize in Literature (1945).

³Center-left political party coalition. Candidates from these parties won every election in Chile from the end of Pinochet’s dictatorship (1990) until the election victory of Sebastián Piñera in 2010.

 About the author

Patricio Zamorano is a singer song-writer, poet, writer, journalist, political analyst and academic currently at George Washington University. Recently in 2010 Patricio Zamorano won by unanimous decision the First Prize of the national competition “The Chilean Press and the Bicentennial”, organized by  the Society of Journalists of Chile and the University of Santiago, with his, “Chile en tres actos” (“Chile in three acts”) (http://patriciozamorano.com/chile_en_tres_actos.html).  Patricio Zamorano is also an analyst of international affairs and writer, and has published innumerable journalistic articles including stories, interviews and columns, in various American and Spanish media outlets. His collaborations as a political analyst and writer include CNN in Spanish, Al Jazeera, Telesur, Univision, BBC and BBC Mundo, La Opinión de California, ContraPunto de El Salvador, Radio Pacífica y Radio Miami, and various Chilean media (magazines like El Periodista, Mensaje, Caras, Plan B, The Clinic; newspapers like La Nación and La Época; radio-station like Bío Bío and Cooperativa; TV stations like TVN, CNN Chile, Canal 2). Patricio Zamorano is also a member of the Chilean Performing Rights Organization, as well as the Professional Association of Chilean Journalists, and the National Association of Hispanic Journalists of the United States.

Feel free to comment below in Spanish or English.

¿Por qué me dueles, Violeta Parra?

O sobre cómo valorar la película chilena “Violeta se fue a los cielos” en noche de estreno en Washington DC

© Patricio Zamorano

Tanto me dueles, tanto me doliste esta noche…

Me dueles por que me duele Chile… Eso es, ¿no, cantora? ¿Pintora? ¿Creadora de formas y de ilusiones? Chile te dolió en cada segundo de reconocimiento en los pocos países que el milagro de tu pobreza eligió para cobijar tu canto, tus pinturas, tus arpilleras tan intensas como el brillo de tus ojos tristes. Todo era el vacío si volviendo a la patria allá en el sur perdido de dolores de infancia y de vida errante, el pueblo no te era pueblo en tus sueños de universalizar en la media luna de la audiencia cada gota de creación que exudaba de tus manos. El pueblo no te era pueblo cuando te golpeaba como invierno santiaguino la indiferencia del gran público que  añorabas y amabas tanto. ¿Cuánto artista no ha sucumbido a la soledad del auditorio, amada cantora? Cuánta desesperación, ¿no?, cuando el silencio es sordo de aplausos…

¡Ay cantora de mis adentros! Chile te mató. Chile mató a Víctor Jara. Chile mató a Allende. Chile mató también a Neruda (los milicos sin duda empujaron con su tufo de demonios el cáncer que creció junto con las llamas en La Moneda). Chile mató a De Rokha, otro genio sepultado bajo el frío rumor del Chile oficial. En una brizna de años Chile perdió físicamente a sus figuras más profundas. Perdió a su tierra.  Gimió la tierra.

Años antes, Chile también mataría a su primera premio Nóbel, a la niña sin zapatos del Valle del Elqui, Gabriela de dolores profundos mistralianos, mirando siempre de lado a esa patria sureña que le negaba tanto, a pesar de tanto verso y tanta prosa regalada como en una letanía…

Chile mató la democracia, Chile mató a los comunistas y a los socialistas. Chile mató la alegría de vivir por dos, tres décadas, si sumamos a la frustración concertacionista en los noventa… Violeta, querida, inauguraste con tu gatillo y tu disparo la época oscura que se nos venía encima, ese 1967 fatal, bajo la carpa a la que asistía en esas últimas semanas sólo el viento acompañado de lluvia fría, como solo llueve en el valle del Mapocho.

No te preocupes, Violeta querida.

Chile con tu balazo recibió como un escarnio urgente el fruto de nuestras propias miserias: los milicos se cebaron en pueblo, apoyados a su vez por tanto pueblo torcido en sus devaneos caníbales. El pueblo mató al pueblo. Ese 11 de septiembre de 1973, querida Violeta, tu corazón se habría apretado en una mueca de horror al ver la masacre liderada por el milico patriotero. El Chile que te ignoró en vida, querida Violeta, fue el mismo que apretó tu gatillo, y el gatillo de Allende, y el gatillo del soldado que se ensañó con Víctor, y el gatillo de los miles de ejecutados en la calles de Santiago… (el gatillo eterno, tan largo como el fusil que representa el contorno del Chile real en el mapa de su propia geografía. Santiago, donde la muerte rondó a la mayoría cebada por la masacre, se ubica ahí en el sector aproximado ¡oh dulce ironía! del percutor…)

¡Ay, Violeta, pero quedaron tus canciones! ¡Ay, Violeta, quedaron tus “diecisietes”! ¡Violeta, nos dejaste tu Gavilán, las penas de tu Arauco, tus run-runes que tanto te hicieron sufrir de amor de hembra! Tus guitarras traspuestas te universalizaron, campesina de Lautaro. Tus gracias a la vida, con risa y con llanto, las disfrutan pijes y obreros, cuerpos diplomáticos aprovechan de vender la marca “Chile” y tu alma se contorsiona, un poco irónica, ¿no?, un poco cagada de la risa, de esa risa a la chilena, al mismo tiempo amarga, sarcástica y llena del gozo de la vida, la vida de las islas a la deriva, la vida de la isla Chile, donde vino a morir tu gloria en cuerpo, una Cristo crucificada en maderos de guitarra, para liberarte y liberarnos de tu alma, que vuela, ahora sí, plena de tus deseos, ante el cielo ancho de nuestra miseria…

 Sobre el autor

Patricio Zamorano es cantautor, poeta, escritor, periodista, analista político y académico, actualmente de la Universidad George Washington.  Recientemente en 2010 Patricio Zamorano ganó por unanimidad el Primer Premio del concurso nacional de crónica y ensayo “La Prensa Chilena y el Bicentenario”, organizado por el Círculo de Periodistas de Chile y la Universidad de Santiago, con su relato “Chile en tres actos” (http://patriciozamorano.com/chile_en_tres_actos.html). Patricio Zamorano es también analista de temas internacionales y escritor, y ha publicado innumerables artículos periodísticos que incluyen crónicas, entrevistas y columnas en varios medios de América y España. Sus colaboraciones como analista político y cronista incluyen CNN en Español, Al Jazeera, Telesur, Univision, BBC y BBC Mundo, La Opinión de California, ContraPunto de El Salvador, Radio Pacífica y Radio Miami, entre otros, además de varios medios de comunicación de su Chile natal (revistas El Periodista, Mensaje, Caras, Plan B, The Clinic; diarios La Nación y La Época; radios Bío Bío y Cooperativa; canales de televisión TVN, CNN Chile, Canal 2). Patricio Zamorano es miembro de la Sociedad del Derecho de Autor, del Colegio de Periodistas de Chile y del National Association of Hispanic Journalists de Estados Unidos.

In the Director's fortnight section of the Cannes film festival 2012, Pablo Larraín's "No", a film documenting the campaign against General Augosto Pinochet in the 1988 referendum,  picks up the prestigious Art Cinema Award, the top prize in the Director's Fortnight section. Mexican star Gael Garcia Bernal plays an ad executive who adopts a 'positive' compaign against Pinochet looking to extend his reign after 15 years in power. Apparently  Sony Pictures has snapped up the North American distribution rights to the film and given that after the premiere at Cannes, the film recieved a standing ovation (!), one wonders if the selection committee may have missed a trick by not including it in the main sections! Pablo and Gael talk about the film below:

Praised variously by critics as, “both sweet and stringent, attuned to the wonders of childhood as well as its cruelty and terror (A.O. Scott), and, “an astonishingly intimate and painful coming-of-age story ” (Jack Matthews), Machuca, is Wood’s semi-autobiographical tale of 1970s Chile told through the eyes of Gonzalo Infante (born to a middle class family of European decent) and Pedro Machuca (an indigenous Chilean from the barrio), two young Chilean boys on the verge of adolescence and losing their innocence. Set against a backdrop of the run up to the 1973 Golpe Militar, the plot involves Gonzalo witnessing a radical experiment at the private English college, Saint Patrick’s, conducted by school priest and social progressive Father Wheelan. Machuca and other ‘lower class’ boys gain scholarships and change the group dynamic of the school.  Gonzalo and Pedro inhabit two very different worlds and yet both are complex in their own right. On the one hand the former must endure bullies, both in the playground and at home (in the form an elder sister’s nunchucking boyfriend), his mother’s sugar daddy and an ineffectual father; whereas the latter has to face squalor in the slums and an abusive alcoholic father. Ultimately, the differences reduce down to future prospects. Gonzalo is destined to walk amongst the Chilean elite, while the same fate is highly unlikely for Pedro Machuca. In a brief moment of clarity, his father’s impromptu speech to Pedro is both cruel and insightful:

“Know where your friend will be in five years time? Starting college. And you’ll be cleaning toilets. In ten years, your friend here will be working at his daddy’s company. And you’ll still be cleaning toilets. In 15 years time, your friend will own his daddy’s company. And you? Take a guess. You’ll still be cleaning toilets. Some friend. He won’t even remember your name by then.”

It’s this dichotomous social reality that the two boys inhabit, along with their changing relationship, that Wood uses as a metaphor for the looming political upheaval that is coming for all Chileans. Salvador Allende is leading the first ever democratically elected government and Augusto Pinochet is about to orchestrate a coup against his old friend.

The film works on many layers and is ripe with subtle nuances and references. For example, Gonzalo’s mother’s wealthy older lover attempts to placate the young boy with a bound edition of The Lone Ranger, (who of course had a native American sidekick). Graffiti on a city wall proclaiming ‘no a la guerra civil’ (no to civil war) is partly erased to become ‘a la guerra civil’, eventually being whitewashed over. A forceful analogy to the development of tensions in society and perhaps also a forewarning of the inevitable difficulties that lie ahead for the boy’s relationship. At times, the film recalls Ken Loach’s Kes, most obviously with the character Pedro seeking solace from hard times, but also if somewhat perversely, Gonzalo is also attempting escape from the problems brought about by his middle class existence. Moreover, and importantly, the subject of the film was potentially problematic for Chilean people, even some thirty years after the events took place, and could have been difficult for audiences to digest, or certainly discuss. There has been a certain amount of self-censorship on these issues in Chile and in some sense Wood’s film is an unfolding of the Chilean collective subconscious. To misquote George Orwell, 'in times of (self) deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.’ There are some great performances all round, particularly from Gonzalo’s mother (Aline Kuppenheim). In addition, given that there are no professional child actors in Chile, the performance of the boys and even more so Silvana (Manuela Martelli) are especially noteworthy. The 1970s feel to the film is very well done and because it moves at a sometimes leisurely pace, the political tension becomes palpable.

Not all critics, however, were in agreement. Peter Bradshaw of  The Guardian, for example, opined (or is that whined?) that, “It's the sort of cinema that tells you at great length what you know already - in this case that the Allende government was flawed but honourable, that the Pinochet coup was grotesque, that 1970s childhoods are to be remembered with bittersweet affection and knowing detail, and that friendships forged across class barriers may come to a terrible end.” More than anything this view is really a misunderstanding of the Chilean culure and history, and of course, ulitimately, the director.

Wood graduated from the exclusive and prestigious Saint George’s College in Santiago, Chile, which boasts many well-to-do alumni including the President of the Old Georgians Association who was Director of Logistics at Johnson & Johnson Medical Chile. The list of ex alumni reads like a veritable who’s who of the Chilean elite; Glittering stars include José Miguel Insulza, current head of the Organization American States (OAS), Andrés Allamand, Minister of Defense, Patricio Melero, current head of the House of Representatives and the Cueto brothers, owners of aviation giants Lan Chile. It was perhaps because of and not in spite of this privileged early experience that Andrés Wood has gone on to make such incisive social commentary in film. A.O. Scott suggests that, "the greater achievement of the film lies in showing both the weakness and the tenacity of those [social and political] divisions". More than this though, Machuca is a window to the soul of the Chilean psyche; a perspective that is perhaps lost on some.

Andrés shared a few words with chileno.co.uk about his latest film Violeta se fue a los cielos (Violeta went to heaven) and aspects of the film making process.

Violeta must have been a tough subject to tackle given that Violeta Parra is such an icon in the country, although when asked how the film had been received at home and abroad Wood commented, "Muy bien. La película primero en Chile, conectó con la gente. Hizo un pequeño puente entre la presencia emotiva de Violeta en las personas y el personaje interpretado en la película. Un regalo aparte ha sido que haya podido cruzar las fronteras. “

“Very well. First, the film made a connection with the people in Chile. It made a small bridge between the emotional presence of Violeta on the public and the interpretation of the character in the film. In addition, it has been a gift that has been able to cross boundaries.”

Moreover, Parra lead an extraordinary life and her myth is vast and multi-faceted, making it potentially hazardous to make a biopic covering her every aspect. Is that perhaps why Wood decided against a more traditional linear biopic? “Pienso que intentar abarcarla en una película es imposible. Quizás como nosotros no intentamos eso, pudimos hacerlo.”

“I think that portraying the whole span of her life in one film is impossible. Maybe it was because we didn’t attempt it, that we were able to do it [make the film].”

The film itself is comprised of interwoven sections of her life (a skill surely enhanced after La Buena Vida), from her humble beginnings in the Chilean south, to the European period and her troubled relationship with Gilbert Favre; the common thread holding the film together being a tv interview given by Parra in 1962. Throughout, Wood does a remarkable job of representing the gritty realism of the period and the characterisations of ordinary Chilean folk are very well done. There are touches of magical realism, especially towards the finale, which is in keeping with a range of Chilean writers from Isabel Allende to Roberto Bolaño. A film for both Chileans and audience across the globe Violeta both moves one emotionally and provides insights into Chilean culture.

Turning to the film industry in Chile, where a large majority of Wood’s filming has taken place,  we asked what it was like making films in the country. Overall wealth and infrastructure has been on the increase in recent years, however, it is still a developing country. Has this been a problem for the Chilean film industry? Andrés seemed optimistic, “la industria se está desarrollando y el estado desde hace unos años viene apoyando sistemáticamente la producción y distribución de películas. Aunque estamos mucho mejor que en otros momentos, siempre se puede hacer más.”

“The industry is developing and from a few years ago, the State has been systematically supporting the production and distribution of film. Although we are in a better situation than at other times, there is always more to do.”

Like many other directors, Andrés has built up partnerships with several actors, collaborating on multiple projects. In much the same way that the Cohen brothers have repeated past collaborations with McDormand, Buscemi, Clooney, Goodman, and Torturro, it appears that lasting partnerships work for Wood as well. When asked how important continued collaborations with actors such as Aline Kuppenheim were, Andrés replied, “Mucho. Me gusta trabajar con gente talentosa y si son amigos, mejor.”

“Very. I like working with talented people and if they are friends, then so much the better.”

And of the raison d’etre of a filmmaker?  Not that we're presupposing the politics of Andrés, but Karl Marx famously stated that philosophers have only thus far interpreted the world, the point is to change it. Does he feel the need to make an impact on society through his vision?

"Soy a la antigua, que creo que el cine puede ayudar a crear discusión y con ella, cambios en la sociedad. Pero también tengo ambición artística y eso no tiene porque ser poco atractivo para la audiencia."

“I’m old fashioned, in that I believe that cinema can help to create discussion and with that, changes in society. But I also have artistic ambition and that shouldn’t be less attractive to the audience.”

It is clear that Wood’s purpose is to create a debate and through topics such as inequality, which are recurrent themes in his films, he is able to do that.  When asked about the best part of making a film, he explained “en todos los momentos me alegro de ser parte del proceso y también me lamento. La bipolaridad es parte del que hacer cinematográfico."

“At all times I’m happy to be part of the process but also I’m sad. The bipolarity is part of doing cinematography.”

The life of a filmmaker is constantly being challenged, through production costs, viewer expectations and balancing artistic and moral visions, there are it seems in filmmaking, as in life, always two sides to the coin. Emotional gratification of being part of the process must make it all worth it in the end. We look forward to seeing more work from Andrés and woodproducciones in the future.

While there have been rumours that the official selection for Cannes 2012 has been prematurely released, strong denials from Cannes have proved the 'leak' to be false. We will all have to wait patiently for the official announcement that is set to take place on the 19th of April. In the meantime, however, the Buenos Aires Festival Internacional de Cine Independiente (BAFICI) gets under way today, running until the 22nd of April. There is a strong contingent representing Chile, with 11 independent films either solely or jointly produced by Chileans, competing in several sections. We are keeping our eyes on Bonsái, which was an official selection for the Un Certain Regard prize at Cannes in 2011. For anyone in London, the film is showing tonight, the 12th at The Institute of Contemporary Arts.

In alphabetical order the contenders are (click the titles for a trailer, where available):