Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Dutch
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
Here I am. Here is me
By myself.
Here is my hand, here is my face,
my hair, my heart.
Here is my heart. Somewhere there.
Here I am. Me, me.
Where is me? What is me?
What was my life all about?
Do I still have time
to do something about my life?
I really don't know.
Some called him the godfather of underground film...
Filmmaker Jonas Mekas. That's Jonas Mekas.
My guest tonight is Jonas Mekas,
who was first of all a poet before he was a filmmaker. Uh,
I was a farmer before I was a filmmaker.
His name is Jonas Mekas, a man who I think more than almost anybody in the world,
epitomizes the meaning and significance of independent film-making.
I'm delighted to have you here.
I'm happy to be here on this autumn day.
Jonas Mekas has remained at the forefront of American independent film-making for
more than half a century.
Author, critic, film distributor,
and a movie maker whose influence extends far beyond his adopted home.
Jonas Mekas was the most exciting person. I mean,
he just got excited about anything.
Jonas became a social center
as well as making his own films and writing his own poetry.
I began keeping film diaries immediately after I came to this country.
The dominant form of my life became the diary.
So I'm just filming moments of life.
I do not know what makes me do it,
but I have to do it. I just have to do It.
I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep.
Oh boy. I don't know what I'm going to do tonight.
Box is..
Box is... why all my life is boxed?
I have boxed myself into, I dunno where I am.
It's a mess. It's a mess. Uh,
As I'm slowly moving to my editing room,
some old footage, fading, fading footage,
My friends, here I am
trying to remember it all. Footage I took with my first
Bolex, but the dust of time is falling on all of it.
My brother Adolfas
Some of the details are already deep under the
dust of time.
Adolfas and I came here from post-war Europe
Full of doubts about civilization.
All the affairs of this world.
We loved you, world.
But you did lousy things to us.
We are displaced persons
and the world is full of us.
This was recorded by someone in exile.
I was so lonely when I came
that... this city
saved my sanity.
The first years here,
we embraced New York
and the city embraced us
We did not miss a single theater performance,
a single film that opened, a single ballet performance,
music...
We were hungry, thirsty for...
Art.
It's raining in New York on this November day.
My camera is getting wet,
but it doesn't matter. Orchard Street.
I lived here. I lived here for two years.
Walking, always walking.
That is the life of a displaced person.
A DP in a strange place,
Grass clinging the block of cement, trying to live
In a place where life seems to be totally impossible.
And there, behind that bridge, it's Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
I spent two years of my life. Yeah, two,
There is a point somewhere where you don't know anymore
where your home really is.
I am still at that point.
I think my real home is cinema.
Jonas and Adolfas Mecca, born in Lithuania,
came to the US and the first thing they did was they bought
a 16 millimeter Bolex camera.
Neither myself nor my brother spoke English.
We thought maybe we can do the camera and speak with images.
Jonas carried his camera everywhere.
I don't think I ever saw Jonas without a camera.
We thought we will get into Hollywood and make big movies there,
but meanwhile,
we have to practice and master what the camera can do, all the tricks.
Very soon it was cinema that was our lives,
our minds, our hearts.
And we wished that we would have some kind of platform
to exchange ideas. France had Cahiers du Cinรฉma
England had Sight & Sound. In United States, nothing.
So we said, said, let's do it.
By December 54,
we brought out the first issue
For Film Culture Magazine. I wrote a piece about The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
John Ford's film. I think I made 25 bucks,
which got me through a couple of dates.
The first play I directed off Broadway.
Jonas came to see it with his brother Adolfas, and that's where we met.
And he was very kind and very encouraging, encouraging me to make movies,
which I ended up doing
But for Film Culture, yeah. I wrote for them a couple of... few times
After you started Film Culture,
you got into being the first film critic for the Village Voice writing about
commercial cinema. But you are writing now.
It is primarily a criticism of the avantgarde.
It happened so not by, you know, our choice, but I see great,
you know, beauty, excitement there and nobody's writing about them.
Nobody's bringing these films to the, you know, reader's, viewer's attention.
And that I consider is a cry.
So it's my duty to bring those films to the attention of the people.
Jonas Mekas was my savior. Somehow.
I knew about the Village Voice and I got it.
And I used to read Jonas's column, Movie Journal,
and he told me what underground movies were.
And that's how I learned about Warhol and Kenneth Anger and the Kuchar Brothers
and all those kind of movies. So I became kind of obsessed by them.
And I would sneak away on the Greyhound Bus to
New York and see the underground movies that Jonas wrote about.
That's how I got my film education.
Before I was a film student
I just live every week to read Jonas's column in the Village Voice because it
opened up a whole new world of, uh, what cinema could be.
The word movie didn't mean just one thing anymore. To the younger generation,
you have lighter equipment, so you can actually start making your own films.
Underground movies, we're doing it a completely different way.
Turning your nose up at Hollywood. Technique, billion dollar
budgets and everything,
You can step out in the street with your characters.
If all your expenses were subway fair and film,
you could somehow work. You didn't eat so good, but you could work.
And that Jonas valued the work was amazing.
He couldn't have been more generous
For the first time in the last 10 years,
I did not feel alone in America.
Like I was slowly becoming a part of it.
There was a moment when I forgot
My home.
We wrote, we did a lot of writing
with coffee eating our stomachs.
We started shooting our first film.
It was exciting. Everything was new.
I was a teenager reading Jonas' Movie Journal in the Village Voice
And I went to Cinema 16.
where, mixed in with narrative films and
science films & pornography were these other films.
And that's when I first saw Maya Deren
and Stan Brakhage.
And I thought, this is most ridiculous stuff I've ever seen.
And then I saw Jonas's Guns of the Trees,
and I never wanted to go back to Cinema 16 after that because it
was the most depressing thing that I'd ever seen.
Not everyone digs underground movies, but those who do can dig them here.
This is The Bridge in New York,
one of several small theaters around the country where underground films are
shown. But what is an underground movie?
The subject almost defies description
Like any art cinema has the narrative aspect and the poetic aspect
and so-called underground filmmakers are exploring the poetic
aspect of cinema.
Jonas was interested in freedom of expression with an
emphasis on individuality, the personal, sometimes very private,
that Hollywood will never make.
And he saw that these films couldn't get distribution.
So what did Jonas do? He started the Filmmakers Co-op,
The Filmmaker's Cooperative distributed Mondo Trasho.
That was the first real distributor I ever got.
It was in the catalog. And they would pay a dollar a minute, 90 minutes long.
So I got $90 every time somebody rented it.
Anyone could deposit a film at the Filmmaker's Cooperative and it
would be distributed if people asked for it.
And how would people know to ask for it? Well,
Jonas mentored them in the Village Voice.
No one would've ever heard of those movies, if not for Jonas.
He essentially wrote about the films that his friends were making.
And the reason the Village Voice regarded this not as a conflict of interest for
many years, is that no one made any money.
When I started working at the Co-Op,
it was at 414 Park Avenue South,
and Jonas lived in the back.
Filmmakers Cooperative was a period of like four years.
I don't know how I slept because it was always busy that place.
Most of the time I slept and then my Moviola, there was no other room.
Every evening we had screenings, filmmakers bringing their footage,
people gathering and showing their work.
You could meet everybody there from Robert Frank, Allen Ginsburg,
Salvador Dali, they all came to the screenings.
It was at those screenings that I met Barbara Rubin,
Harry Smith, Jack Smith, and Warhol.
Andy was there in my loft, sitting on the floor watching movies already,
several months, but I did not know it was Andy.
That was Andy's film school.
Jonas certainly gave Andy the idea of
making films. And for a period of time,
Warhol pretty much put away painting
in favor of making films.
They were the most important thing that Warhol was doing.
But this evening, as I was, um,
eating my supper, it came to me that,
Andy's constant audio taping..
Constant in the later years.
Video taping, it came from shyness.
A shy person is not able to hundred percent connect
with the people and remains always a little
bit on the side. A watcher. A looker. A gazer.
Because that is like one's only protection.
It is the chain that keeps you
attached to the people around you.
That is what I have been thinking
As I think about Andy
To you.
There were two kinds of underground workers.
There was the real arty kind like Stan Brakhage, and Ed Emshwiller
I didn't like them so much then, I like them now and realized that Jonas was
completely right about that school too. But then there was the Warhol,
Kenneth Anger, Kuchar, the ones I liked really,
that always had nudity, and gay people and drugs.
You know, when people think of the sixties,
they think of just this counterculture. Anything goes,
Nudity, sex.
But actually the censorship then was terrible.
I'll never forget, I went to forbidden screening,
An illegal screening of a banned film at Loft in the Village.
And Mekas introduced. It was Kenneth Anger's, Scorpio Rising.
It was certainly a life changer for me.
If you look at the history of queer film
and you look at the history of avantgarde film,
They are twined around each other.
And that was a big deal for Jonas,
who began writing in the Village Voice some very homophobic pieces.
And then at a certain point,
he looked at Jack Smith's work and he realized that Jack was making
great film and great art,
And something changed profoundly in Jonas.
During the summer of 64,
the series of arrests were taking place under the
pretext of obscenity.
We decided that they have no right to tell us how to make our movies
or what to show. We went ahead and we showed everything.
Without submitting to the senators,
Jonas booked the screening of Flaming Creatures.
I was the manager of the theater and Flo's taking tickets.
Cops came out of nowhere. I was arrested. Flo was arrested.
Jonas was arrested and was incredibly courageous talking
to the cops, telling them how stupid they were.
I thought he was gonna get us killed,
or at least we were gonna leave there without teeth. I was impressed.
I don't think anyone was prepared to see the cops show up.
After this arrest, when everybody said I'm in trouble,
I thought okay. Then I will make it worse.
A week after Flaming Creatures, Jonas arranged
the screening of 'Un chant d'amour'
Be it smuggled, the Genet,
semi pornographic or actually pornographic film into the country,
Looking for trouble with the police.
Jonas said, it's not porn. Porn is in the eyes of the beholder.
It's poetry.
Police were threatened by underground movies for some reason,
they really believe that they were gonna, I don't know,
do what, make everybody go crazy and turn gay or what?
I don't know what they thought. For Jonas, it made him a hero,
the revolutionary.
He introduced a new genre of rebellion in film that has never ended.
Jonas wanted to break down the barriers, storm the Bastille.
He talked like that too. We have to take it down and break it down.
And that was very encouraging at that time, for all us young people that were
just starting out.
There was so much dedication and solidarity of the whole community.
And in the middle there was Jonas Mekas. He was the prophet,
a guiding visionary spirit.
He showed us the way and made us understand that there are no limits
to the art of cinema.
We have all come here to tell the public that, uh, we are now, uh,
taking over the entire universe.
What's important about the underground cinema is that it's not important at all.
The underground filmmakers
are not taking themselves seriously. They're just playing, having a good time.
Jonas Mekas, the impresario. Jonas is the head of the
Filmmaker Co-Operative. He puts together movies and sends them
around to, uh, Europe and America. Mm-hmm.
Movies like Flaming Creatures and The Brig.
Now, this will be another glorious day.
The thing is that The Brig is a film of an actual performance
of the living theater.
Yes. It was shot on stage.
I walked into the middle of the play, with the camera, with sound
Disrupted the whole situation as a new element.
It was not an adaptation filming of a play,
but my instantaneous reaction to a production in long 10 minute
takes. With the movement of the camera, the brutality of it, uh,
uh, was sort of crazy.
The Brig showed at the Venice Film Festival.
They thought it was a real Brig as opposed to the documentary
of a theater production. But it did win a prize.
And it did put Jonas on the map,
though still as some kind of curator.
People didn't see Jonas as a filmmaker in his own right until
Diaries, Notes and Sketches, Walden.
I knew. Therefore I make films, I make films,
I make home movies, therefore,
I live.
Walden was the first Jonas film that really moved me,
was like, wow, this is like its own form completely.
Jonas was able to use the form of cinema in the way.
Poets don't obey the laws of pros.
They don't obey the laws or rules.
They are there to abstract them.
Jonas's personal cinema represented an entire
vocabulary of symbols and signifiers,
and there was no goal.
Diaristic, memoirist documentarian
Through the eyes of a poet
Around 1961. Looking back,
I realized that the footage I've shot with my first two Bolexes
felt like a diary documenting certain aspects of my life.
So Diaries, Notes, and Sketches.
This footage from 1964 to 1968.
I'm not documenting reality. That doesn't interest me,
but I'm celebrating reality.
I'm picking out certain bits and I film them in a way
that they are like celebrations of life.
Temperament, attitude, state of being. That feeling, like in the air.
Pace, rhythm, movement, life, exposure
-- focus intensively how I feel as I'm looking at that detail
to catch reality as it happens now.
That is how my diary form started.
Jonas was an expert at turning his journals and diaries into his art
Walden & Lost, Lost, Lost are two of my favorite films of,
of not just of Jonas's, but two of my favorite films ever.
Lost, Lost, Lost stuck with me a great deal,
particularly when he was filming the grass. You know,
Like he was dancing around with his camera, fluidly in space.
So ecstatically happy.
Jonas and images of Jonas with a Bolex camera
reminded me of Woody Guthrie's guitar that he had.
This machine kills fascists.
That guitar was his way of delivering things.
And Jonas's Bolex was equally iconic to me.
This machine destroys preconceptions of what is filmmaking.
The camera took Jonas,
It's like basketball to Michael Jordan or Jimi Hendrix playing the guitar
for Christ's sake, you know.
It's just part of his body, coordinated so naturally,
so fluidly. He was in his element.
And that's a very important thing to recognize. God, you know
Jonas as a person is super shy, sometimes painfully so,
especially when he's been caught in some kind of crowd.
Jonas was the artiest person to be at the
center of so many different stratas of society.
He was highly regarded in Park Avenue living rooms
In the homes of great art collectors.
He was omnipresent on the scene and he always deflected accolades from
himself to like, "Well, but did you see this? Did you hear about this?"
He had a lot of access to people because they recognized Jonas' integrity, the purity
He was telling the tales of his own life and the people he encountered.
And it has some of those people happen to be, you know,
Miles Davis, or John and Yoko or all these different luminaries of the period.
Jonas doesn't have the same ambition.
He doesn't really wanna be that famous when you think about it.
Whether he's hanging out with John Lennon and Yoko Ono,
or following the cockroach, just trying to get across the street.
He'd have the similar
joy and attention being paid to those moments.
There's no hierarchy between Yoko Ono, John Lennon,
cockroach. He always talk about that glimpse of beauty in paradise.
That was it. Being caught in the moment.
Very important philosophy of life.
It's my nature now to record,
to try to keep everything I'm passing through.
I have lost too much.
It's raining somehow
And I have lots of time. I'm not in a hurry really
I don't mind it all.
For this rain to rush to the streets of New York
After coming 7000 miles from home, from Lithuania.
It doesn't matter. 100 blocks, one way or the other.
I'm on Broadway and it's raining
7,000 miles away.
The editor of Pravda, propaganda newspaper of Russia.
He had seen The Brig.
And she thought it was a great anti-American film
and that it should be shown in Moscow Film Festival. And I said,
I will come, but at the same time,
I would like that to go... If I'm in Moscow,
Maybe I could go also to Lithuania and visit my mother.
So that took me to my mother.
And as we were approaching, closer and closer
to the places we knew so well,
Retracing bits of past.
I did not recognize the places, there were no trees.
When we left,
We planted small seedlings all around, yes
And now the little seedling had grown
up into big, large trees.
And there was Mama.
And she was waiting.
She was waiting for 25 years.
Our home, our house was still there.
And the cat met us.
Our mother is telling about the terrible post-war years
And how every night, for a year, the police was waiting
behind a house in the bushes, for me to come home
They thought I had joined the partisans
For more than a year, behind the bathhouse.
The dogs used to bark every night, she said
My decision is to leave.
If you want to criticize me for my lack of
patriotism or courage,
You can go to hell.
I do not want any part of this war.
This war is not mine.
I am a poet.
False papers were made for us to go to the University of Vienna
and study there, and there we went.
The only thing was that we never got there.
Germans directed our train towards Hamburg and we
ended in the slave camps of the Nazi Germany.
One thing that people always forget about Jonas is that he's a survivor of
one of the worst mass slaughters in human history.
And even after the war,
Jonas and Adolfas were lost in that mix of people who were trying to figure
out how to get home. They were not welcome in Soviet-occupied Lithuania.
They had to stay in a displaced person's camp for four years.
And so at this point, he begins to really develop as
a poet, this is when he writes his Idylls of Semeniลกkia
By the time I ended up in the fourth labor camp,
I only wanted to write. And my first poetry book was published in
a very cheap way in displaced person camps.
I got to know him through the book called Jonas Mekas' Poetry,
which was published in 1971 because previously in Lithuania,
his poetry wasn't available. I found a book in my parents library.
It sounded different than Lithuanian poetry that I knew.
The country really has a difficult history,
which was a living trauma for the generation of Jonas Mekas.
Jonas consolidated that historical experience of the country
and its people and expressed it in this very
personal way. Now that I speak,
I suddenly realized that I was probably only a few years younger than Jonas
himself, when he started his journey away from Lithuania.
The darkness is falling, beyond the windows.
All the past is falling together.
Just two lines from Jonas Poetry.
What more do you want from me?
I am a musician. I became a politician,
participant of my nation's self liberation
from longstanding Soviet yoke.
Jonas was a very painful one
and full of miracles.
It looks paradoxical.
Jonas speaks about the most simple things
and then you understand that they are the most important.
The element of past
was especially important for Jonas,
Maybe as representative of captive nation,
which was stored out from reality,
put into a cage of captivity.
Who cannot understand it?
Maybe those who have not been captive, enslaved,
But those who don't have such experiences.
Maybe they lose something.
That terrible chance to have such a painful experience.
Today, I was leaving. It was raining.
The airport was wet, it was sad.
Oh Mother,
I hope the long gray road will
lead me soon home again.
Kreutzer Sonata, that's what I need.
As I sit here in my editing room,
splicing bits of my own past,
putting all these pieces together.
I'm looking at fragments of mine and
your life.
These are my memories.
The way I saw it when I was filming it.
I'm talking to you, Alice.
When I met Jonas,
it wasn't like the sparks and all of that cuz that's not the way
he was. He wasn't like a sparky person.
He was like slow and
really charismatic and powerful.
He was 22 years older than me and he was also Jonas Mekas, you know,
And I was just a person who liked avant-garde film,
But he really made me feel calm and he really made me feel,
um, happy.
I had seen Walden and Reminisces
And I read Jonas's columns.
It's like I had always known him
And he came and lived with me, pretty quick.
He brought his editing table.
Hollis & me, the protagonist of this film.
We decided to try to be like all the
normal serious people.
We decided to get married.
And there is the man of the minute,
and Hollis's father.
I can still feel the happiness of that
summer being in love. If there is beauty,
that was beauty, my friend.
It was magical and fun.
He was a very free spirit.
Like Jonas is one of the funniest people I have ever met.
And yeah, he always had his camera with him.
It was like his sidekick
And it makes that click. I love that click.
Peter, standing now at his window with the fireworks going off all around him is
the tiny figure of the house
What, what happened to you?
I, I meant to darken my hair and it it darkened it a little too much.
Yeah. Dark brown, but ended up being little...
I have to fix that.
Development. A liberal economy, free market. Put human rights..
and respect for our partners.
The time now is touched, according to Einstein.
Seize the problems and the opportunities of this
ever small planet we all call home. In short,
If we want the story of the 21st century to be the triumph of peace
and harmony, we must embrace our common humanity.
It's about 17 minutes to the end of this millennium.
New Year's, 1999
As the world is celebrating the New Year
I am celebrating
the last quarter of the 20th century.
It seems I was filming my own
childhood as I was filming your chilhood.
Oona and Sebastian.
Formative years of being in front of a camera just became natural.
I didn't love it or hate it, it was just totally normal
up to a certain age.
I think I was about 13 when I just started doing this and walking away. Um,
cuz you know, 13 puberty and all of it, you're changing and you're just like,
"Stop filming me. Like, just stop". Luckily I had
a younger brother and then he ended up in all the films because he was smaller
and didn't care.
If you've only grown up with a, a camera,
if you grew up your whole childhood with that,
you don't think anything funny or strange of it.
So I was aware that my birth was filmed. I didn't feel icky or weird about it.
It was just something that was part of life.
As I was watching you in that moment,
I thought,
There cannot be anything more beautiful
or more important on this Earth.
1974
Really monumental year. In '74, we got married,
We had Oona, and we moved into The Loft in SoHo.
I still have dreams about that place. The Loft.
I mean that's what everybody called it. It was this big meeting space.
The long wooden table that we had in the house was a very busy space.
Every week or so we had gatherings, just a few friends,
Filmmakers, painters, poets.
In the sunset over Manhattan aisle.
Newark was my bright place, under the wing for a while.
Green gas tanks of Kearney, smog brown in the west.
In the lower East side, I'll go take my rest.
I'm alone in the sky where there's nothing to lose.
The sun's not eternal, that's why there's the blues.
Majestical jailhouse, our joys in the cage.
Hearts full of hatred will outlast my old age.
There was always music in the house.
He had this group of Lithuanian friends,
people he arrived with, and they would play these
incredibly sad songs. All Lithuanian folk songs are sad.
Every single one of 'em.
It appears to be, I mean, it was a good life if it wasn't an idyllic life,
but it was a good life. I mean,
the struggles were really real. Like money.
An anthology film archive. It was a huge struggle.
The Anthology Film Archive. This is where I sit and work
on this fragile little table indicating the
fragility of our existence
and fragility of film
That is falling to dust. Every minute as we are talking,
Films are falling to dust.
The idea of the Anthology Film Archives was
that it'll establish a repertory of avantgarde, independent
and classic cinema.
We have about 6,000 titles So that those who want to know more or
less what has been achieved in cinema as an art
could have some idea by seeing what we called essential cinema
collection. The film that we show quite often here..
Around 1970, five of us discussed
and argued and prepared a list of essential cinema.
And we began screening them on a repertory basis again and again.
And we thought that will be our function.
But that function changed soon because we discovered if we screen,
we have to get the best possible prints. We discovered that the filmmaker died.
Nobody knows where the originals are or the originals are fading or shrinking
or are falling to pieces. So we established the preservation department
And we did this out of necessity, not because we wanted to--
There was this need, we had to do it.
I'd love to come here and see if I could catch him and go downstairs and talk
to him about new things in the archives.
And I remember things he'd tell me like, oh,
We found these Russian industrial films in the dumpster
that I now want to catalog. Like this excitement of like, what are they?
Oh, they're footage of strange machinery and factories in the
Soviet Union. You know, these kind of things. And, and we just found them.
They've been thrown away. So we're seeing should we include them in the archive.
Film is fragile and, and if you don't preserve it, it's gone.
It's history.
Every film is a kind of historical document of that particular
story, that particular time.
Eiseinstein, Russian, American,
and the French and the Germans.
Some of those films are ecstatically beautiful.
These are fragments of paradise and they have to do everything to see that they
don't disappear.
This kind of obsession or craziness
keeps me alive.
He had such a pure vision of avant-garde film, anthology, cinema,
But when he bought the Courthouse in 79, that was a really big leap
For the Anthology Film Archive.
You are struggling with a financial campaign to convert a magnificent building
into a...
A house building, uh, that has been closed for the last 10 years that we,
we acquired from the city.
And we will be transforming it into a film and video museum.
We are now in the 72 seat theater.
They were redoing the whole interior. When Saturday Night Live asked me,
Would you make a a five minute film?
I asked Jonas if I could shoot here. He said, yeah, "You can shoot here"
I hope it's not disruptive that they'll be working around you.
Nice to meet you. Nice To meet you too. Get away.
They took 10 years to get The Courthouse to the place where we could open it.
It took a lot of work.
Good morning. Good morning, Jonas. How are you this morning?
Are we gonna make the countdown? 12 days before we open.
Five days before the opening. Four days before the opening.
We'll be opening soon. I don't have the exact date.
You'll have to see the man who's in charge of this.
Two days before the opening, two hours before the show,
40 minutes before the opening.
Running Anthology was always a challenge.
The main headache? The fundraising.
Jonas knew a lot of people in the film world,
in the art world that he could call on for help when it was really needed,
but it still wasn't easy. Jonas used to call it a cathedral of cinema.
He used to say that they're angels.
The anthology has a guardian angel. I have at times found that to be true.
I have also at times found that to be a very impractical answer to the
problems that we face.
Anthology was made by angels and miracles,
luck and hard work.
He worked in the day at Anthology. He worked all the time.
Jonas worked more than any person I've ever known.
He described his day.
I go to the Anthology in the morning, and then I go home and I take care of the
International Correspondent. I have time with my family
And then I go into the editing room after midnight, and I stay in there as long
as I can stay awake. Usually four hours.
It's five minutes to two in the morning.
The house is sleeping.
Yeah, when everyone else would go to bed, he would,
he would go to this editing room.
He was always really productive. But I mean,
I was definitely a backseat to the work.
I'm not sure that I am taping right now.
Hello. Is is a, is a rose.
Is it really?
Notice when I was around nine, that he got his first Sony video
camera. He was very excited by the possibilities of video.
The long takes
And shooting synchronized sound for the first time.
I want here to hear, are you pressing? Yes. And it says R-E-C?
Yes. Good. That means it's recording. I can see they had, uh, light noise.
So it's recording. So I'm waiting to your, uh, new book of poems,
which is right here.
Got that one wrong.
Does it record this sound?
Of course. Um, I will read a poem.
That tree said,
I don't like that white car under me
It smells gasoline. You are neurotic
You can see by the way
You are bent over. You can see by the way..
"You're neurotic, you can see by the way you're bent over"
You can see here
You can see by the way, you're bend over. No, I'll read it to you. You take me.
Yeah. That's, that's a better idea.
That tree said, "I don't like this white car under me. It smells gasoline."
That other tree next to it said, "Ah you're always complaining. You're a neurotic"
You can see by the way, you're bent over. Get it?
- This one... - You're not even listening!
Sebastian, you weren't giving me any attention at all.
I'm a guest here. I deserve attention.
I seem to be making an inventory of your apartment.
I don't suppose you've done this yet, have you?
No.
Well, this might be interesting.
So we entered the secret room
To my mother..
Holding my father and my mother when they just got married.
Mm-hmm.
There was a moment when filmmakers really were not interested in
working in video. It has a different set of qualities.
It doesn't have that beauty of celluloid. Jonas embraced it.
It was less about whether it was film versus video as what were you trying to do
with the medium?
While I might not find them aesthetically pleasing,
They are so brilliant in terms of portraiture
No. I'm facing real disaster, he left.
Why? Why? So what happened? Uh, the first,
This is the first night of..
He left me. He's out of love. He want to be independent.
Uh, I'm all shadowing. I have too much energy. I'm just too much.
Not just for him, for everybody.
Generally I'm too much and I don't know how to be less.
Or maybe...
I'm always deeply emotionally touched by his movies.
And I always discover beauty in it.
And you really never know where it takes you to next second, because it's always,
Every time you look at the movie, you discover something new,
something surprising and something true.
Those years in the eighties, nineties, he was doing so many things,
balancing so many roles, wearing many hats,
riding different horses, as he says.
And he struggled at times to find time for his own work.
Jerry, maybe the only print actually is at the Co-op.
So he have to borrow from the Filmmakers Co-op.
He weathered everything. I mean,
he could have utter chaos spinning around him
and he would weather it,
which was hard for the people around him.
Cuz chaos is really hard to deal with. I mean, especially when it's constant
So like just, the film, the Anthology
When you're married to someone who's a little bit famous,
it's like you're an appendage.
I decided after 30 years of that
I need, I just needed to be me, be free.
Somewhere around this time without
protagonists, life collapsed.
Suddenly, his life collapsed.
My parents were separated in the late nineties,
but they still lived in the same place, just lived on opposite sides of the,
of The Loft.
We got divorced in 2001.
It wasn't until 2004 that we actually split
because neither of us had enough money to strike out and get their own place.
We were like distant roommates.
I mean, we were, we were polite.
It was disappointing and sad,
but at the same time I knew that they would both be happier
not living together.
The biggest devastation was getting rid of The Loft.
It's a lot of stuff to move.
I would say that was the lowest point of our relationship.
Moving, packing up all our stuff and moving out. It was hard.
That looks interesting.
The secret strength of depression.
I may read that one
I have to admit, I feel...
Lost. Lost again.
I have lost the sense why I'm here.
I'm lost.
I'm trying to find myself here
This damned..
Questioning of myself all the time.
Here I am! In this empty space
Impregnated with 30 years of life.
Every wall, floor, ceiling, space itself
There must be...
A lot of little atoms of..
Myself, Hollis, Sebastian,
Oona, attached to it. Somewhere floating in the air.
Totally invisible.
A glimpse of my new home.
I would spend a lot of time with Jonas, sometimes three nights a week.
Disappointed, Richard. Humanity.
He needed a friend.
And I think he saw me as he himself when he was my age.
You know, when you are an immigrant,
Forever caught in that in-between space,
It's intense because you essentially don't have any home.
You never feel comfortable.
Anyone who knew him should have known how deep the
traumas of his early life were in him,
and the degree to which he refused to give into them.
And the degree to which he kept that invisible
and allowed it to come out in the films.
Only in the form of melancholy,
not in the form of the extremity of loss and anger
that I just saw in every gesture and every
facial movement. You know, I mean,
You know how clowns are the most tragic figures
Jonas worked very hard at being a clown
for other people.
Here I am on February 6th,
here is my room, my table, my glass of wine.
And here is me,
By myself.
Here is my hand, here is my face,
my hair, my heart.
Here is my heart. Somewhere there. Here I am.
Me, me.
Where is me? What is me?
What was my life all about?
Do I still have time
to do something about my life?
I really don't know
God, angels, help me.
I have nobody but this camera,
This camera..
This camera..
I threw it on the floor.
I picked it up and it still works.
This piece of metal here in front of me is my only friend.
So here I am. I'm not,
I don't know what to do..
I don't know what to do..
I dont' know why I'm taping this.
But I'm taping it.
That's my..
Midnight.
I can't sleep.
I can't sleep.
One of the ways my father dealt with the ending of that part of his life
was to make, As I was Moving Ahead, I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty
When I began now to put all
these rolls of film together
and just put them together by chance,
the way that I found them on the shelf,
because I really don't know where any piece of
my life really belongs.
Yeah, this is one of my favorite films to watch.
This goes back to what he was doing in 16 mm. Walden, his Diaries,
Notes and Sketches. And they're all sort of stitched together.
My filmmaking saves me. It saves me,
I don't know what I would do.
Sunlight, some sun in my life.
There are moments that I fall into. Those kinds
of moods, moments that don't last very long.
But I'm very miserable when those moments come.
But I'm out of it, out of it.
Hey, what are you doing there?
It's always going somewhere...
That symbolizes our own human mind when we think we
are going somewhere. But we are going nowhere.
He was very sad about parting away with, you know, Hollis.
But what came out is a 365 day project,
which is about celebration of life for that one year
365 day project.
That was one of the most challenging. I mean,
I made a film every day, a film between five to 10 minutes long,
Came to 38 hours of finished film, which is no joke.
It's one of his greatest creation of the late years.
I'm not going to do the dishes tomorrow.
Should I leave this just as an empty day?
Under which St. Mary appeared
December 23rd, 2007.
It's a very special night because it's an alignment of planets. Nine, I believe.
And winter soltice that we're just kind of coming out of..
And full moon. And um, and your birthday.
That was a time also when my father started to get very interested and very busy
with exhibitions and showing his work in new ways,
It was all very exciting.
Jonas blossomed. He was celebrated all over the world.
I don't know whether that would've happened if we had stayed together.
I'm writing a book about you, my PhD.
It's all about the life work of Jonas Mekas.
Sorry, you had to do so much work.
He recreated a new Jonas.
Never before you have encountered an artist with that
incredible new discovered energy.
The pain created this titanic energy.
Profound tragedy in life. Also energy.
It depends how you turn that into energy.
This is like a new premier of Jonas Mekas as a personality.
More and more Jonas films came into gallery and
museums and the format of presenting them in the
gallery, it had to be invented because some of these films are very long,
some of them are quite short.
He was a curator himself who knew how to construct
a narrative not only in a piece of poetry or a film,
but also in a film program, you know, in a festival.
I dunno if we would have independent cinema
If it wasn't for Jonas Mekas.
When you think about the artist in late years, is about the incredible last
breath of mortality.
And I think Jonas knew that it was fleeting.
I've referred to him as being a kind of poetic equivalent of a kung-fu
master. And I want to talk with Jonas about this,
that maybe the secret of the universe is don't go
against the grain.
Learn how things flow and you don't have to hit against them.
The flow of energy and of life and of expression, ideas is something
very mysterious and magical.
He created a sort of new art,
which is more than film,
The art of being in a creative joy.
Sebastian, I lived with him the last..
I dunno, eight years.
He, he worked with him, he traveled with him.
He took care of him when he was sick. That was so beautiful.
My father was getting older and it was also nice. I mean,
I found sort of a new relationship with my father,
very different from when I was a teenager.
So we certainly became even closer and more like friends.
We would travel together and go dancing.
My father, I told him that I was pregnant and he didn't really like,
he wasn't boisterous about it, but he was very happy
and I'm just glad he got to meet her.
Oh, oh look, she can play!
Very good. More, more, more.
She doesn't wanna do it anymore.
Then I'm not going to film.
Okay.
He was uniquely fit for catching people in their moments.
It's all little daily scenes,
personal little celebrations, choices
and miracles.
The little moments of paradise that are here
now, next moment,
Maybe they're gone.
I didn't get to go through all of those yet.
I think there's one..
I'm almost done,
I'm missing one box of Christmas decorations that I can see.
Oh, I, I know where they are.
Let me label really quickly.
And put it there.
Whatever you want to take.
Oh, my comic books. You found my comic books!
I've been looking for these since you moved out of The Loft.
It's a beautiful thing to be able to see your family life
through somebody else's eyes. And not everybody gets that.
So I'm super grateful.
Oh, Oona. Let the images run.
Let the images run.
Very little of what you see,
you remember
He talks about those fragments of paradise and
it's how I live my life. Like no matter how bad stuff is,
you can always fight just a little fragment.
And that's what the diary film is,
It's like sharing these intimate
Things fom his heart, and his soul and the poetry.
That's poetry in film.
I did it.
I managed to catch some of the beauty,
some of the happiness.
That's all I care... To catch
some of the beauty
around.
And it's there. It's there.
I did it.
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.