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Temple of Art

The documentaries of Omar Amiralay, would be considerably more renowned if those who can see his work knew how to watch it
Issue: Jul, 2008
words: Musa al-Shuqairi & Tamara Nouimages: Aiham Deeb
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For a Syrian documentary maker, Omar Amiralay has a dangerous philosophy. His films, he says, express his “hatred of authority and its people, from politicians to army generals who have mastered the profession of controlling countries and people”. Despite 35 years of presenting his unique, anti-establishment perspective on Middle Eastern life in more than 20 critically-acclaimed documentaries, Amiralay remains almost unknown to the Arab man on the street, but he refuses to compromise his self-appointed duty as an activist on behalf of civil society, continuing to employ his camera as a harsh critic of the Arab World’s totalitarian regimes.
From his first documentary Attempt at the Euphrates Dam (1970), in which he praised the Baath party for its development projects, to the latest A flood in Baath country (2003), in which he used the same infrastructure project to reveal the failure of the one-party system, Amiralay has gone a full circle – and the award-winning filmmaker is using his natural knack for observation to expose the various elements and complexities of the Arab world.

NOX: As an outspoken activist, and with many films now banned in Syria – even those produced by Syrian TV like The Chickens 1977 – what makes you think you are immune to “disappearing” in a prison cell for 18 years?
OA: We are living under regimes that are not governed by any logic or rationale in dealing with its people. Any citizen is under the threat of spending years in prison, with or without a reason, and the Arab World’s and Syria’s prisons are packed with innocent people. The threat is always there, whether you made films to crticise the regime or not. And sometime, being a known cinematographer protects you to a certain degree, but not completely.

NOX: Some of your films were described as a Zionist conspiracy, do you pay attention to such nonsense or do you treat it with the ridicule it deserves?
OA: This reflects the lack of logic and weakness of argument against my ideas. I once met a retired driver who worked at British embassy in Syria, and he told me that he learned two things from Arabs, “if you are a woman you are always going to be accused of being a whore, and if you are a man you are always going to be accused of being a spy.” Whoever abbreviates the world in such dual standards does not deserve to live in our century.

NOX: Most documentary makers tackle a certain issue and never revisits the aftermath – but you did with your celebrated twin look, separated by some 33 years, at the dam on the Euphrates.
OA: Sometimes the cinematographer picks the subjects of his work, and on other occasions he plants his trees in other people’s gardens! In Syria especially, you are influenced by the desires of the producer – so you’re never completely free to choose your work. In the early 90s, though, once I had reached a status where I was finally able to express my own beliefs in my films, I started being more personal and I used my films as a form of auto-therapy. That was when I felt the need to revisit the Euphrates, so I could start exposing my earlier mistakes and feelings. Wanting to criticise the Baath regime, I am actually able to start with self-criticism by admitting that at one point I made a film to glorify the Euphrates dam. Today, having revisited it, I can explore its catastrophic effects – and integrity requires that I include myself in the criticism.

NOX: Is it true that A Flood in Baath Country was supposed to be entitled Fifteen Reasons Why I Hate the Baath Party?
OA: There was a general idea for a film that explored the experience of nationalist parties, with the Baath’s 40 years in power as an example. But during the research phase, the Zaitoon dam collapsed and I visited the apocalyptic scene and saw a whole village buried under the flood – a story people would talk about only in fables. That incident, and a study that revealed that all the dams built during the Baath era could collapse, made me revisit the Euphrates dam.

NOX: You have a number of projects that discussed the Lebanese civil war. As a Syrian with a Lebanese mother affect the way you see that country?
OA: I carry the two opposites, the completing halves – who happen to also have a lot in common, by the way. The Syrian society represents the epitome of contradiction in being conservative yet pragmatic, due to its commerce-based nature with a rich history. As for Lebanon, the open costal society makes it more expressive and more open to the world, and the different political choices each made following the French mandate – democracy versus military rule – has resulted in a brothers-enemies situation. What attracts me to Lebanon is the “temporary” nature of things; people live each moment to the fullest because they are aware that that moment may soon disappear. Syrian society remained static, as all one party political regimes do, with all the sectarianism and tribalism frozen for 40 years. I am stuck between these two catastrophes – the strangled situation and the loose situation, which could both explode at any minute. I try to explore those two societies from proximity.

NOX: Given the fact that most Arabs are not interested in reading books – and probably magazines – is it easier to deliver a message through documentaries?
OA: Who said Arabs don’t read? I think the Arabs read more than anyone else in the world! I mean, every Arab has read the Quran at least 10,000 times – but I do agree it is about time they move to a second book! “The one book readers” are left with very limited exposure to other people, because if they read other books they can start learning the others’ ideas and perspectives, outside of the divine perspective. And that’s when they can engage in arguments and debates based on human ideas.

NOX: So, what attracted you to documentaries in particular – as opposed to fictional narratives to achieve the same ends?
Omar Amiralay: I don’t see a difference between the two types; they both belong to cinema. It is just like a novel or a short story in that they are both literature and art, and they are both based on creativity, but they serve different purposes and each type has a different influence. The issue is even more mixed with me as I don’t really make pure documentaries – they’re more creative in that there is a screenplay writer who has his own vision on an issue. He then translates that as opposed to merely conveying it in an abstract way. Without that, cinema would be a mirror, without a soul and without eyes or feelings. To me, reality is a place or issue that means something to me and talks to me and moves me. Any artist can draw and apple, but what makes Cezzane’s apple special is that it reflects how the artists sees it. So when I make a documentary I follow a deconstruction technique and I place my characters and the influential elements around them to rebuild the scene in a way that reflects my vision.

NOX: With that approach, isn’t there a risk your documentaries will simply be art with inaccurate facts? After all, people are not guaranteed to act “naturally” in front of a rolling camera. Like for example your 1982 film Masa’ib Qawm, where the main character turned out to be a Mossad agent…
OA: Every human being plays a character in his everyday life; when someone dresses a certain way, or styles his hair a certain way, when he choose a certain way to walk or talk, a certain handshake or greeting… these “natural” acts are predetermined to establish a person’s character. In a feature film an actor tries to shed this image and mould himself into the film character. In documentaries, it is the directors duty to help the subject of the film to abandon a certain image to fit in the director’s vision. We focus on the mask of the character that appears on the documentary film more than the actual reality of it. I truly believe that things do not have one truth, but my responsibility is to translate what I see from my perspective, and try to offer evidence that my vision is the closest to truth and reality.

NOX: Why aren’t many Arab people familiar with your work, even among the so-called intellectuals? When was your last film screening in Jordan, Lebanon or Syria, for instance?

OA: I think in the circle of intellectuals and those involved in cinema have probably heard my name – but that does not mean they have seen my films! Three or four movies were shown on al-Jazzera and al-Arabyyah, but it’s true not many have been seen on a wide level. My name is maybe more recognised than my films; for example, people have been hearing about me in Egypt for 35 years and finally four of my movies were screened there in May. In Europe, there were three or four retrospectives of my work. But this is the tax you pay for working outside of the influence of the regimes, where you’re expecting your work won’t be welcomed on national TV stations. But I am making the films that represent me, so I don’t have any complaints. In Syria for example, over the past 40 years, two of my films were screened in public – once in the cinema club in 1977, and once last year, Masa’eb Qawm, in a film festival. That does not mean that many people did not see my work, thanks to pirated DVDs.
 
NOX: You have worked with many Syrian directors like Mohammad Malas and Osama Mohammad, how do you evaluate the status of Syrian and Arab cinema?
OA: We long realised in Syria that one person cannot make a film, and he or she has to belong to the tribe of art – especially for those artists who are not welcomed by the official cinema institutes. Those artists have to collaborate with their colleagues to form a certain kind of resistance which can defend this profession. Sadly, our particular group fell with the Berlin wall – I don’t know why the coincidence. But I think we managed to accomplish something. We wrote each other’s scripts and produced one another’s films, and it was a really fruitful collaboration and left a positive mark among the younger generation. We proved that cinematographers can get over their selfishness and egos and work together.

NOX: Can films such as yours leave a mark on society or is the work of the Arab artist always confined to high praise from international film festivals?
OA: I don’t believe in the misconception that art can create a change, because for art to do so, you need an audience of certain qualities and at a certain level of enlightenment and taste. And I am not talking about the mass audience; as an artist you are only ever talking to a certain elite. Unfortunately, the people who are capable of receiving your work – people you assume possess the minimum requirements of artistic education – are very few, not only in the Arab world, but internationally. It is really rare when an observer’s feedback surprises you and makes you feel like your research did not go to waste. Unfortunately, it does not happen often.

NOX: Sometimes you refer to yourself as a Marxist, how hard is it to carry such an ideology in the era?

OA: The Marxist ideology is philosophical, or at least the philosophical part is what is I have left of it in my ideology. I was never a supporter of the communist society project, and hence I was never a member of a leftist or a communist party. I believe in Dialectical Materialism concepts and its interpretation of history and in general, the ideas you carry enrich your knowledge and experience and becomes the fuel for your thought.

NOX: Any career advice for young Arab filmmakers?

OA: My advice is to try everything before selecting a certain path. Another thing is to take every experience and choice very seriously. The most important thing is to for them to remember to take their shoes off before walking into the art temple.


Omar Amiralay file:
Born 1944, to a Syrian father and a Lebanese mother.

– Studied in Paris at the Institut des Hautes Etudes Cinematographiques.
– During the 1968 student revolt erupted, he joined the protestors, and began to film. He never returned to the IDHEC.
– He returned to Syria in 1970.
– Won the 1976 Interfilm Award at the Berlin International film festival for Daily Life in a Syrian Village.
– The Cinéma du Réel Festival at Paris dedicated a homage to his work in March 2006.
S– igned a declaration by Syrian intellectuals calling for a Syrian withdrawal from Lebanon and an end to the attacks on Syrian workers in that country.


A full version of this interview appears in NOX26