The Japanese filmmaker and artist Naomi Kawase (Nara, Japan, 1969), in addition to dedicating himself to fiction and documentary, has tackled daily, essay, videoart and cinematographic meditation. His works have a search for identity and origins that lead to a close-up of intimate life. In movies, the photographer feels very attached to the camera through training.

Kawase Tarachime (Japan, 2006) talks about birth, motherhood and aging. Between trauma and love, it makes us enter into the intimacy of the old aunt who has fulfilled her role as a mother, whom she will call grandmother, overcoming the limits of wrinkles, the fall of skin and the body that no longer generates desire. Kawase has the questions of her creation and will have to look for them between the answers of her grandmother and the nudes. It can be a way to overcome the pains, as the grandmother admits that "she did not give birth to Naomi, but she brought her son." The staging is not always comfortable, and the images directly question common sense. It is a dance between support and abandonment, as well as the process of the director, from the daughter to the mother. The tasks to be carried out in the future must be understood in the past.

The letters of In between days (Catalunya, Japan, 2009) were recorded a few years later. This is a work carried out with Isaki Lacuesta (Girona, 1975), in which each sends his/her diaries and environments to the other through audiovisual letters. In total, there are seven shorts that are exchanged, and beyond what is known, the time between the letters becomes important, hence the name of the work (in Basque, Between days). The work and mutual knowledge among filmmakers are now being read. Lacuesta's images have been shot the day after her first interview, and the last of Kawase tell her last stay among them. They can also be understood as reflections on the production of films usually abroad and around the unknown.

 

Marguerite Duro (Saigon, 1914 - Paris, 1996) was born some 4,000 kilometers away. He returned to France as a teenager, as he was from the family and was known as a filmmaker and writer. He has written books and film scripts as well known as Hiroshima mon amour (France, 1959), by Alain Resnais, and his works in film are evident. It moves between the story and the images, combining both lines, crossing them or separating them.

It was precisely in this game of images and words that he shot Le navire night (France, 1979). The voices tell the love story of anonymous characters who call each other in the Parisian night, where they meet and relate through illegal phone lines. It would be an analogue dye. The images show the streets without people, on the one hand, and some characters found inside the house, on the other. Curiosity leads to both the story and the evolution of the family, leaving open the possibility of many compatible meanings. The process and staging of the film are obvious, but only the viewer can understand why.

Following the direction of his predecessor, Dura has a half-film called L'homme atlantique (France, 1981). Entering a house near the sea, the shooting is naked in the director's activities. A man crosses the premises of the building, sometimes following orders, and others on his own. At the beginning of the film Dura says: "Don't worry, you forget the camera." However, we don't know if that second person is us or the actor, because the voice off goes inside and outside the movie. The bitter memory of words is the absence in the landscape, and the film is full of reflections about the film. The boundary between fiction and documentary is diffuse, since, according to Dura, "life is a photographic phenomenon".

The two artists may be away from each other in history and in places of residence, both in the use of the word and in the frame. In this case, however, it has united the conditions of the interior spaces, and I am convinced that this is not the only similarity that we can find. The search for the viewer's testimony is perhaps the triple bridge that can unite. A bridge that can cross several oceans.