Situándose en un lugar indeterminado cerca de Jerusalén, en el borde de la Línea Verde, con un asentamiento israelí como fondo, y sobre las ruinas de un pequeño pueblo palestino, este film se inicia atribuyendo al papel una función poética, casi mágica. El papel es el soporte de la palabra escrita: de la memoria, de la ley del hombre, de la ley de dios.
2019, HDV, 16:9, color, sonido, 19’ 48’’.
In the outskirts of Jerusalem, standing on the edge of the Green Line, with an Israeli settlement in the background, and over the ruins of a small Palestinian village, this film begins by attributing to paper a poetic -almost magical- function. Paper is the support of the written word, the one related to the memory, as well as to the law of Man and to the law of God.
It Never Pours but It Rains is composed by a flow of images that intertwine a performance with a happening. The first is an evocation of paper as the law, as a tyrant power oppressing a group of people, from whom a powerful -almost impossible- body gesture is asked to get redeemed. While in the second, paper is evoked as a fragile piece of memory resisting the disappearance. In this action, a sheet of paper is left on a random sidewalk in Tel Aviv, while water drops make slowly vanishing the name of a Palestinian village massacred during the Nakba (al-Dawayima).
2019, HDV, 16:9, color, sound, 19’ 48’’.
* TEASER. Link a la versión completa bajo pedido. / Link to the full version under request.