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LO-FI DIARY
A project by TOMÁS CORREDOR
366 microfilms / Documentary
2020
THE PROJECT
Petrarca wrote a love poem a day for a whole year. Jonas Mekas, inspired by him, shot one video a day in 2007.
In 2020, I started my own Lo-fi image diary following the advice Mekas gave me the day I met him: "You must film something, the smallest things; the invisible of each day.".
REVIEWS
"Traditionally, documentary film has preoccupied itself with the large and weighty issues of the human condition: the suffering of the poor, the degradation of the planet, the dangers of mob psychology, of human cruelty. These vital concerns require the attention of our field today, every bit as much as they ever have. But Tomas Corredor's inspiring project reminds us that the domain of documentary film has no limitations. We see an old turntable push out a song; we see a boy blow a quick kiss to the camera; we hear the sound of human breath. These are tiny moments, forgotten almost as soon as they happen, except that Corredor's camera asks us not to forget them. By examining one small and precious moment each day, his work reminds us what sages over time have so often tried to teach us: that salvation lies in experiencing fully, richly, the mystery of today.".
The book of days:
"In the diaries of Santōka Taeda, a Zen monk who is perhaps the last wandering monk-poet of that long tradition of Japanese monks who walked, were grateful for the gifts of the journey, also the hard times, the loneliness of the journey, and wrote poetry, poems brief, contemplative, in those diaries that are a moving trace of Santōka's life, there is an entry that I have always wanted to quote somewhere and I have not found where. The November 8, 1930 entry says only: "Rain."
When I read it, I thought, how beautiful that in some newspaper in the world that is the record of a day! When I saw Tomás Corredor's diary, the diary in which he films something every day for a year, 2020, in something that he calls "low resolution" (and that I, due to my absolute technical ignorance in film matters, don't know exactly what it is), he films some intimate moment, or with family, of joy or nostalgia, or tiredness, or he also takes the opportunity to make a joke, to pay tribute to the cinema that he loves, I remembered my monk's diaries walking poet On April 15, 2020, in this digital diary of my friend, he says: "rain."
But Thomas's words are not the words because his words are the image. That's his language. And the rain that day is astonishingly beautiful. And it is thanks to that little video of yours, we remember how beautiful rain is. The rest of the 365 days (2020 was a leap year) are the records of something "small, invisible" happening daily.In this book of days, what is recorded are sometimes human emotions, domestic scenes, tributes to friends or loved ones, miniature games, visual experiments, and the creation of a rhythm, sometimes slow, sometimes frenetic, as I imagine they will be work days. But sometimes, and those are my favorite days, nature speaks, with its silence, like the entrance on November 29, in which you can see a splendid, pink moon, a large luminous rock in the shadow of the evening. Or it is the silent mystery of matter that suddenly has a voice, a visual voice that makes the world's silence grow. Some days seem like dreams or short, extraordinary poems, like April 21: a man digging in the ground next to a pool while a cat appears to watch him from the window. The effect of the elements on things, like the wind that moves a curtain on which the pine trees on the other side of the window seem printed, the emptiness of common and public spaces in times of pandemic, a flock of birds, the awakened gaze of some hunters or shepherds in a meadow in Kenya: this intimate, very lyrical diary is made of things like that, which I admire."
"Jonas Mekas may have died in January 2019, but he was, undoubtedly, resurrected at the end of December, and, knowing the future for good, he tipped off Tomás Corredor: "Do it, start as soon as possible." And Tomás Corredor did. How else to explain the incredible opportunity to carry out the "Jonas Mekas experience" just in the year of the confinement? And a few months before, this Colombian filmmaker had not been branded as an opportunist but as opportune.
With the help of Mekas, Tomás Corredor has encouraged, inspired, and mobilized all the friends, filmmakers, and onlookers who have known his example at a time when it could be more therapeutic. Without a doubt, the first beneficiary has been himself. Still, in this period, a loyal legion of followers has leaned out of his window, enjoying an unprecedented collection that grows in the memory every day. And, damn it, wanting to imitate him. We are not the only spectators - I am talking about my partner and me - who miss the nightly sessions of Tomás Corredor clips during this long season of confinement.
My favorite shorts are those images between the figurative and the abstract. Many of them sought among the tiniest details of their surroundings and shot with lenses that must have been stolen from the gods and that connect this filmmaker with the experimental avant-garde. They have turned me into the child who watches movies for the first time with his mouth open. Transporting me to my childhood, in which I went to the movies without caring what movie I was going to see, I didn't care because I knew I would have a good time. By the way, pay attention to the audios that ride with the images because this long-distance Corredor*, this poet who does not pose as a poet, this artist who does not pose as an artist, has never forgotten the significant effects of counterpoint. What a feeling of privilege to have attended this daily show that has lit up the blackest days. What generosity of his, and what an extraordinary patrimony he has generated. Not only do you have to envy Tomás Corredor, but you also have to admire and emulate him. In the part of him that reminds us of the most elemental and the most sacred: enjoy each day with the most privileged art form (and share it) ".
* Corredor translates to runner
"Tomás Corredor's idea for filming a year-long Lo-Fi video diary makes me furious that I didn't think of the concept sooner. That he executes it so brilliantly makes me feel a bit better, as I couldn't possibly do it as well. But now, of course, I'm dying of envy."
