fuga started in 2020 as an independent film collections project. four beloved film programs were transversally curated and streamed one at a time. cover images were kindly handed over, respectively, by the artists João Marcos de Almeida, Dolores Orange, Clara Simas, and Shima.

browse the complete curatorial record below.

6/8 — 6/14/20

The film as nursing technique. Like for the nurse, it is a matter of cultivating the wound through time. To expose the sore, to guarantee its permanence, to wait for latency. Thereby one discovers that cinema cares through violation, which persists – like the doctor who celebrates the intervention –, and thus it is an expression of a time of infirmary. One realizes that, if nursing is an art, its style loves the wound: so that it can palliate, release the side effect, nurture the legacy of the scourge.

In By Your Side, the malady of the spirit: a body needs the other body. In the crusade of the loving sight, in between the gaze and the fucking, subject and object get confused in the mirror. But one body needs another indeed, and the extreme adventure on the way is the alliance with the outside, where the passerby observes the bonds that sparkle in the history of friendships, dignified by monuments: the crowd and the party, the kiss and the drama. And the sorrow too (samba). In this essay on communion, by Marcelo Caetano, every day one sings and cries.

In Nursing History, the reverse: the raw historical record taken as the inscription of an anonymous tale. Mike Hoolboom offers the archive fiction, a writing with which he imprints a parallel life of desire, suspended from History, before the hand and the gaze that touch and look, obscenely. The film is written within the farces of the document, the purposes of a frame, on the verge of a private confidence of images – which, as an art of ethics, faces the boundaries of the museum of facts.

In Thinya, a similar sacrilege steals someone else's images and words, so as to make sly restitution of the account. The ocean of discovery is corrupted once again, this time by artist Lia Letícia and her companions, and on the contrary: the intimate remembrances of a strange people, hauntingly pale, are material for the public plagiarism of a false ethnography, whose truth lays down centuries of social fiction. Cinema, medicinal and mediumistic, has clandestine beauty and a fulni-ô voice.

Three Songs About Liberation makes, in turn, the frontal call. The pact we need to make is seer: the words in the past, the bodies of the present – the bodies in the past, the words of the present. Time does not go forward, and this recital, on the lookout for freedom, vocalizes – assuring to stare at a camera as it should – that we are confined to the edge of an open door. Cauleen Smith's cinema spills words onto the muted territory, announces the portals.

The person's journey, which takes longer in Naomi Campbel: Camila José Donoso and Nicolás Videla film the Holy Way with their feet on the ground, from where cinema is rooting for happiness. However, a body that becomes another inhabits the vortex, at the distance of a medical clinic: here, the narrative of waiting. There, visions of the instant when, far beyond this tiny world, biochemistry allows for a language of magic. We are off, on a street at night, where Yermén captures dogs and the scum with a drifting camera, under Mapuche blessing.
Na sua companhia
(By Your Side)

Marcelo Caetano, Brazil, 2012, 22'

Nighttime and loneliness are filled with the devil. But then you come. With the bittersweet life.
Nursing History

Mike Hoolboom, Canada, 2018, 4'

In a Red Cross hospital in Vietnam, the young white nurse tends his wounds. Drawn from the archives of the Red Cross in Geneva.

Lia Letícia, Brazil, 2019, 16'

My first trip to the Old World. My post-colonial adventurous fantasy. [Does a speech change an image?]
Three Songs About Liberation

Cauleen Smith, USA, 2017, 10'

Three monologs adapted from the ground breaking book, "Black Women In White America", edited by Gerda Lerner.
Naomi Campbel

Camila José Donoso, Nicolás Videla, Chile, 2013, 83'

Yermén decides to submit her name for a plastic surgery reality show.
thanks: filmmakers and producers for granting access to their films, forumdoc.bh (for sharing the Portuguese subtitles for Naomi Campbel), Encontro de Cinema Negro Zózimo Bulbul (for sharing the translated copy of Three Songs About Liberation), Hatari Filmes, Júlio Cruz, Carla Italiano, Cine Humberto Mauro, Victor Guimarães, Ana Carolina Antunes, Janela Internacional de Cinema do Recife, Paulo Faltay, Thomas Abeltshauser and João Marcos de Almeida.

keep in touch: luisfernandomoura@gmail.com
8/3 — 8/9/20

A collection of films which, in face of adventure, reintroduce foundations of end, outset and medium. There are keywords which the prose of the road awaits: story, past, future. And, with them and in spite of them, visions that perceive, in transit, a marvelous dilemma: passing through duration is passing by a messy encyclopedia; gathering vestiges to scatter suspicions; making moves in the minefield of distinctions in order to remake, as attractions and samples, paths of presence – dangerous, hopeful presence, excited by its own game of convictions, enjoying the body as it moves onward.

In this first part, escape. Clarissa Thieme finds a letter filmed in wartime. This cry for help, however, was already faking its own mailing – as a strategy of salvation, at least. In its place, the correspondence, fascinated by the opportunity of self-projection in the extraordinary, of self-amusement in its own materials, crafts an impossible recipient. Today is 11th June 1993 both shows the records in their raw state and draws attention to the recouping of text in words; it is an exercise in translation that oscillates between indexing and proliferating meanings in emergency.

In Hijacked, escaping is a choreography. Director Shambhavi Kaul films the cruise in such a way as to make the machine of cinema concurrent to that of the airplane. Dispersed in their own fantasies, they are both at the brink: sometimes we get the “airplane movie” genre, but disconcerted by the image of the edge – the service protocols become verse, the spell of time a symbol, the daring of the climb a rite. And sometimes we get the showmanship of flying in defiance of the dangers of physics and crime – what is illicit in this region? Though vertigo may set in, there is also the risk of choking.

In Karioka, the tale of the foreigner. Takumã Kuikuro travels 48 hours to the postcard of a weird nationality, crisscrossing the dodgy landscape that surrounds that deceitful oasis, as television tells us. Despite urban myth and thanks to the ironic revenge of the everyday, this journey in the first-person plural, which takes the promenade as its favored method, will have for its object a jolly travel scrapbook, full of souvenirs of beachside revels and easygoing scavenger hunts; the movie serving as a diary of joyous exploits, out of which the traveler makes a counter-inventory of cosmic findings, which he presents like an ethnographer from another time.

Then, born as a counter-inventory, there is Onward Lossless Follows, from which this collection borrows its name. The spirit is lost, and the world has already been filmed, at least in the country where the universe originated. As a guiding light in this vagrant journey in search of bounty, Michael Robinson unveils a love story (so he’ll have something to cheer or to cry for). Egging him on, another planet. To remind him this is a serious matter, a lecture from someone who knows all about man. To one of us alone, solidity and concreteness: to the I, the persistent I, diluted in pixels, slipping through the cracks on the airship – always ahead.

The return of him who was raised in other colonies. André Antônio turns the fable of the revenant into the ravings of a foreigner. In the halls of the mansion, the noble capsule where the wanderer’s youth is tended – and where it will remain, still, on bedsheets and comic books. Outside, the mnemonic vastness of ruins – history as ruse, digression, on walls that someone, someday, must have built. In The Cult, as in a nightmare, he will be dreaming awake, and if he keeps dodging the future, he is also circling around in search of a superior, perhaps subterranean alternative to the course of eternal sleep.

— Translated by Pedro Neves
Today is 11th June 1993

Clarissa Thieme, Germany/Bosnia and Herzegovina, 2018, 13'

in collaboration with the Library Hamdija Kreševljaković Video Arhiv, Sarajevo

"Today is 11th June 1993. The war has been going on for very long. I've tried everything to get out, to save myself, nothing worked. The only thing left is to make this videotape".

Shambhavi Kaul, USA/India, 2017, 15'

Airplane space is inhabited by characters for whom "escape", one of the promises of airplane technology, proves elusive.

Takumã Kuikuro, Brazil, 2015, 19'

Takumã Kuikuro leaves his village located in Alto-Xingu, Mato Grosso, with his wife and children to live in Rio de Janeiro for a period. While they live this experience, their family in the village worries.
Onward Lossless Follows

Michael Robinson, USA, 2017, 17'

A password-protected love affair, a little vapor on Venus, and a horse with no name ride out in search of a better tomorrow.
A Seita
(The Cult)

André Antônio, Brazil, 2015, 70'

2040 was an important year to me for two reasons. First, it was the year when I decided to leave the Space Colonies and move back to Recife. Second, in 2040 I found out about The Cult.
thank you: filmmakers and producers for granting access to their films, Pedro Neves, Dolores Orange, FestCurtasBH - Belo Horizonte International Short Film Festival (for sharing the subtitles for Onward Lossless Follows), Ana Siqueira, Matheus Pereira, Instituto de Artes da Universidade Federal do Rio Grande do Sul (for producing a first version of the Portuguese translation for Today is 11th June 1993), Janela Internacional de Cinema do Recife, Emilie Lesclaux, Dora Amorim, Daniel Bandeira, Luiz Otávio Pereira, Rodrigo Medeiros, Paulo Faltay, André Brasil, Maria Ines Dieuzeide, Rodrigo Almeida and Aaron Cutler (for once having introduced the works of Clarissa Thieme and Shambhavi Kaul to me, and for sharing thoughts).

keep in touch: luisfernandomoura@gmail.com
9/28 — 10/11/20

Second part of the collection Onward Lossless Follows, things move through secular culture towards the edges: up to a wall, to the limit or the surface of the screen, from one word to another, in the gap between different languages, in the turbidity between two clarities, in the discord between function and form. The wanderer, previously longing to see the warrior or the diplomat in the mirror, throws himself over the reflections with a blazing body. The sign of the will devours the archive and overstrains literature, crossing the heaven of the project to uncover a threshold of throwbacks, where the flame that originates, mobilizes and reveals might flash, burn or fire.

In some of the films, the purposes of the materials are frankly concealed, in order to discover a new immanent beauty, filmed, and another mobilization for the crowd. By making a new montage of Peronist cinepropaganda for children and teenagers, The Day That Could Be, by Lorena Moriconi and Santiago Loza, and Melancholy, by Albertina Carri, rearrange inscribed gestures having the fiction of destiny as a method and as a theme. The films are part of the project Intervened Archives: School Cinema, held by Museo del Cine Pablo Ducrós Hicken out of a museological principle that breaks ground for criticism in the forge.

In other cases, body and proliferation of lexicons get plain confrontation, while mediation acquires the reach of a rite. In The Harpy and Amateur Baritone: His Debut, The Alabama Song, Sylvia Toy addresses the camera by means of oblique and eloquent reincarnations of different mythologies, from Greek mysticism to Brecht's modern conversation, or even the national popular songbook. It is a sample of the abundant production of the artist, whose nickname Sylviatoyindustries offers a factory of videodeliriums, and a domestic chroma key as the medium for a disorganization of icons spread out in autobiographical outputs.

In cooperation with artist La Conga Rosa, Sosha and their playlist conduct a cinema in which the direct keeps up, now as a scenic feature, neighboring the wandering in the territory and, through music, the return of concreteness to visioning. Film and those red boots go on to unveil the portal amid modernist traces and the nostalgia announced by the thicket, setting up a public landscape of dance as the result of a road movie that ruins and restores whatever it crosses. GIF is a signal that Sosha's filmography does something out of encyclopedia, duration and apparition to be most notably observed by critic trends.

And then the puzzles with terms, still direct, in Diga "queer" con la lengua afuera, for a elusive study of the referent, a fugitive illumination of reading. In the film by artist and researcher Felipe Rivas San Martín, the language provides a semantic recomposition – critical, sociological – of practices while interrupting it through the act and its obscene ostentation, which disorients object and abject. The word, almost word, is distorted by the drooling tongue, by the verbal display of the secretion. With a muscle, the body returns a new queerness to the concept, the suspicion of further dissent for the project.

And so on, in the span of mediations, between what they retarget, what they spread, what they distinguish and what they interdict, some of the films are made through a more prolonged exploration of moving image archives. Pierre León, with his Remains, re-examines and re-exhibits the very body of Cinema, in a compulsive gathering of gestures, obsessed by the works of Fritz Lang and his hands. An army of tools, weapons, pens, lighters, doorknobs, vectors of romance action, connecting verbs in the great narrative, is excommunicated by the terror of the thing, which risks the present with a new, insatiable duration of remnants, for upcoming ventures and potential uprisings.

Finally, in The Life of Matches Is Not a Piece of Cake, Kitty and They All Lie, two fictions take place from the surface of cinephilia to the depth of the shot, from the conversation around the canon to the enchanted extraction of idols, from the leisure of art to the pleasures of the scene, while striking their matchsticks. In his short film, Sergio Silva develops a tasty plot amid the affection of archetypes, the transcendence of narration and the disillusionment of history, which has in the filmable translations the basis of a conglomeration of fantasies: perspectives of nation and generation are returned to magic as a talent of culture, either under good or bad manners.

While in Matías Piñeiro's feature film, the revision of the history of power, either local or universal, is the environment for a continuity between appearances, positions and ways of stating a presence: the film summons documents to set up violations, assumes truths to proliferate secrets, plans a myriad of frivolities, raw material of the best relations, to outline a sociology of the colony in which the forges of belonging and the delights and haunts of field and off-screen get intertwined. In both films, objects pass from hand to hand, from mouth to mouth, from frame to frame, from fire to fire, as badges, allowances of desire and reminders of imminence.
El día que pudo ser
(The Day That Could Be)

Lorena Moriconi, Santiago Loza, Argentina, 2016, 5'

Film part of the collective project "Intervened Archives: School Cinema", made with material from the first term of Juan Domingo Perón, collection of Museo del Cine Pablo Ducrós Hicken.
The Harpy

Sylvia Toy, USA, 2016, 10'

A goddess wakes up after 10,000 years in a coma. Episode of a series of experiences by the artist with the same character.
A vida do fósforo não é bolinho, gatinho
(The Life of Matches Is Not a Piece of Cake, Kitty)

Sergio Silva, Brazil, 2014, 29'

Marcos hosts Robert in his house – and falls in love with him. When Michael Jackson dies, Marcos goes sick and Lígia, his sister, comes to help them.

Pierre León, France, 2014, 20'

Something takes us underground, where gods and monsters are amid the ruins of a world they move around with their innumerable hands. A dream inspired by Fritz Lang and Richard Wagner.

Albertina Carri, Argentina, 2016, 4'

Film part of the collective project "Intervened Archives: School Cinema", made with material from the first term of Juan Domingo Perón, collection of Museo del Cine Pablo Ducrós Hicken.
Diga "queer" con la lengua afuera

Felipe Rivas San Martín, Chile, 2010, 3'

The homonymous project includes this film, a theoretical essay and the series of paintings Queer Codes. Here, the action exposes the obscene organ and leads to a "radical unpronounceability".
Todos mienten
(They All Lie)

Matías Piñeiro, Argentina, 2009, 75'

A group of girls and boys in their twenties isolates in a country house. One of them writes a novel while the others try to prepare a robbery; some fall in love, or seem to be, or believe (or say) so. But these two, three, ten plot lines unfold from what the characters hide or just don’t know. Their past and that of the house connect to that of enemies of national history.
Amateur Baritone: His Debut, The Alabama Song

Sylvia Toy, USA, 2016, 5'

A cover of a German opera written in 1929 by Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht, which had a version – without the word "dollar" – by The Doors in 1967.

Sosha, Brazil, 2015, 10'

La Conga Rosa finds vibes beyond the horizon.
thank you: filmmakers and producers for granting access to their films, Clara Simas, Olhar de Cinema – Curitiba International Film Festival (for sharing the subtitles for They All Lie), Eugenia Castello, Francisco Lezama, João Marcos de Almeida, André Brasil, Maria Ines Dieuzeide, Paulo Faltay and Almir Rodrigues.

keep in touch: luisfernandomoura@gmail.com
12/21/20 — 1/3/21

We were together that night. The table was set, and there a strong light arrived. It might be too clear, and so we insisted on getting a towel to cover its face. Onto the dark the prayers we could roar, as we realized no one was looking — despite the dusk, cracks appeared for the shade, letting the beam see the taste for the silhouette and the longing for the visage of the gray. One of us danced to what the other sang and another was frightened, and so there was the hug. So much confusion. My love, we were cursed by sight. We have been blessed.

Outside this building one knows it is the vast map dwelled on. Inside one will find the ceremony of participation in the fuse. Cinema has not been kind, the film was then in progress for liking the trickery. Here are, and always as alternatives to everything else, five Brazilian films that risked discovering, through the forms of a will of film, what it is to film the bonding; five evidences of communion — bread is poison and wine is sugar; five overplays; five celebrations of the sympathetic alliance of cinema, the bad art of dear gestures; truly, five christmas tales.

Being Boring: It's drunk drive. The cinematographer's body is the one shooting. Cinema cheers the love triangle, only corrupted by the replication of the dance scene, in which we were already dancing, in fresh cosmogony of the party. Among play, pause and repeat, the setting is exposed to the lightning of quotes and expansions, once again returned to installation, from erotica to the library of plotting, whereas the boy gets flirty and the Pet Shop Boys promise: we had too much time to find for ourselves.

Los Leones: Mingled with a crowd of pets, the couple of humans practice the small humanities of loving: from bed to coffee time, the fondness for broadcasts and electronics in general, a bit of drug, the chatter between friends, or yet the yard, where fabulous seeds spring up. On the island of Tres Bocas, once getting close to Mariana and Raúl, André Lage's camera fosters the joy of a day that follows another day, and so cinema now and then seems to be actually able to acknowledge the fairy tale.

Black Hole: Haunted houses tend to be a vehicle for communicating with spirits and, once inside this one, the film assumes that it is itself a ghost thirsty for inhabiting with others. Thus make no mistake: from dread to sweetness, we are in alliance while kissing or at the very time of poisoning. Who films communion as the collective osso osso? To trust the liaison between the cursed and the graceful, the letter and the silence, the cut and the world that moves forward with no shame for being in front of us.

This Love That Consumes: When filming with artists Gatto Larsen and Rubens Barbot, and with their friends, Allan Ribeiro earned alongside with them a small grammar of the regard. It recommends charming a place, summoning gods, remembering that this city is inhabited, and taking the bodies outside for a kindly conspiracy. Just as the historical report seeks to teach us, cinema can, in the event of good devotion, move forth as a project. But with a film one can dance along with the community.

En Route: In one of the first films by the collective Alumbramento, Uirá dos Reis and Thaís Dahas are actors and accomplices in cultivating the bittersweet delirium before a crossing can take place. On this sad and remote day, in which reminiscences reign, remains of verses, confidences and playlists insist on going beyond through the lens of a plausible cell phone, which while looking for a haven to arrive finds immanence, or the imminence of a living truth: the elusive share between word, melody and pixel.
Being Boring

Lucas Ferraço Nassif, Brazil, 2016, 77'

What's the point of singing songs if they'll never going to hear you?
Los Leones

André Lage, Brazil/France, 2016, 79'

The intimate portrait of a marginal argentinean couple: a trans chica, Mariana Koballa, and her lover, Raúl Francisco.
Buraco negro
(Black Hole)

Helena Lessa, Petrus de Bairros, Brazil, 2017, 70'

In an abandoned house, she becomes apprentice to a powerful ghost. With the help of her friends, she explores ways to live other lives.
Esse amor que nos consome
(This Love That Consumes)

Allan Ribeiro, Brazil, 2012, 80'

Gatto Lardson and Rubens Barbot are lifelong companions for more then 40 years and have just moved to a big decayed and abandoned building downtown Rio de Janeiro, where they start to live and promote their dance company rehearsals.
(En Route)

Luiz Pretti, Ricardo Pretti, Brazil, 2009, 48'

The life of two youngsters in search of freedom and love.
thank you: filmmakers and producers for granting access to their films, Shima, Marisa Merlo, Anacoluto, Rodrigo Almeida, André Antônio, Luís Flores, Augusto Hendricus and João Marcos de Almeida.

keep in touch: luisfernandomoura@gmail.com