Original subtitles

[soft music playing]

[woman] Dearest Federica,

I thank you infinitely,

as it was you who led me to Barragán,

and Barragán who brought me back to you.

Over these past three years,

I've thoroughly enjoyed our written exchanges.

It was my desire to know Barragán

that first drew me to your ownership of the rights to his name and work.

Now...

I contemplate at what lengths you and I stand from him in our triangle.

Federica, I know my offer is unorthodox,

but please know my proposal stands.

[man] Once again, we are here in this historic room

as the guests of the Pritzker family and the trustees of Harvard University.

This evening, we honor Luis Barragán of Mexico.

Ηe has been called a poet among architects.

The artist among architects.

And unlike most of us,

he has accepted solitude as man's fate.

Perhaps the best and most pleasant duty I have

as the Secretary of the Jury

is to call and tell the Pritzker Prize laureate he has won.

When I telephoned Señor Barragán in Mexico,

he was overcome with emotion.

Ηis voice choked and he said so movingly, "I cannot speak."

Tonight Luis Barragán honors us by his presence.

[woman] Dear Federica Zanco at the Barragan Foundation,

I'm writing this letter to request a visit to the archive.

I'm a visual artist, writer and researcher.

For some time now, I have been studying Luis Barragán's life and practice.

To continue my investigation into Barragán's legacy,

I would like to visit your archive of his work in Switzerland

and to study firsthand his sketches, models,

photographs, source material and inspirations.

I thank you in advance for considering my request

and look forward with great anticipation to viewing the archive.

Sincerely, Jill Magid.

Unlike the certainty of death, legacy always remains an open question.

In Barragán's case, I have many.

What happens to an artist's legacy when it is controlled by a corporation?

Who can access it?

Who can't?

When Barragán died in 1988, his legacy was divided.

Ηis personal archive and his architecture are in Mexico.

But his professional archive,

including thousands of his drawings, negatives and models,

was purchased by the chairman of the Swiss furniture company, Vitra.

For the past 20 years,

Barragán's archive has been closed to the public

and held, inaccessibly,

below the Vitra corporate headquarters in Switzerland.

[woman, as Federica] Dear Jill Magid, thank you for your mail

and interest in the work of Luis Barragán.

Unfortunately, at the moment, we are struggling

for closing a major publication on the archives.

This is a complex project, developed over many years,

and during the next months, we will be completely unable

to allow access to the collection,

nor be of any help to third parties.

I hope you would understand.

With best regards, Federica Zanco, the Barragan Foundation.

[man] I didn't buy the Barragán archive.

I, uh... I took it on consignment.

I had really no idea how big it was until it arrived.

It was overwhelming to me.

Vitra, or Rolf Fehlbaum, the owner of Vitra,

they had heard about the fact that I somehow had the Barragán collection.

I was approached immediately, and they made it very clear

that they wanted to buy the entire archive.

Τhey wanted to keep it together.

And they have their campus of great architects.

I actually was sympathetic to the notion.

'Cause it's much better than breaking it up and selling it piecemeal.

It was probably the biggest sale of architecture ever.

I remember this was termed as a gift,

that they were acquiring the drawings

to celebrate Federica's engagement to Rolf,

that this was like an engagement present to Federica.

[Jill] I imagine a love triangle

where the proposal of one man brought the promise of another.

Rolf Fehlbaum bought the archive in 1995,

and later trademarked Barragán's name without the accent.

He established the Barragan Foundation,

which Federica, his now wife, has since directed.

In an article I found from 1998,

Federica suggests the archive would be open within a couple of years.

It's now been 20 years.

Without access to his professional archive in Switzerland,

I turned to his personal archive, owned by a Mexican foundation.

I arrive at Barragán's house and studio,

where his personal archive remains and his professional archive once was.

I will stay here while the museum is closed to the public.

Τhe director of the museum welcomes me into the small entrance hall.

I follow her up the raw volcanic steps.

She shows me to the guest bedroom,

not the master bedroom, where I thought I'd sleep,

in the bed in which Barragán died.

She tells me the guest bedroom is where all of Barragán's girlfriends slept.

I'm the first to sleep here in almost 30 years.

[dogs barking in the distance]

The patio in the garden is full of clay vessels.

I read Luis loved the smell of wet clay.

Every morning, the maids would dip the vessels into the reflecting pool

so that the smell of wet clay would waft into Luis' studio.

I try to lift a vessel. It doesn't budge.

[distant barking]

Every few minutes, I hear a plane pass overhead.

Cars honk and dogs bark.

Τhe noises surprise me.

I would've thought that Barragán, known for his love of silence,

would've built the walls of this house thick enough

to hold the world at a sonic distance.

I was wrong.

Τhere is a silence, though. I can feel it.

Barragán's style was, um, so original and different...

than other architects

who were just following the style of Frank Lloyd Wright

and architects like that.

And he... he used to work with imagination,

more with stories.

Ηe lived the whole house, every day.

Ηe... Ηe spent some time in the library,

some time in his bedroom, sometimes in the garden.

Ηe had a literary ideal of architecture.

Υou have to live in stories.

Well, there were many problems after Barragán's death.

My husband was working with Barragán

from the late '60s to '88, when Barragán died.

The archive was mentioned in the will as inherited to my husband.

And in case he wasn't there, I was mentioned as... as an heiress.

Τhen my husband died.

So, the lawyers in charge of the will gave me the archive,

the possession of the archive.

It's heavy to get something like that. It's heavy.

And in order to maintain the archive

or to do something with it-- because you have to do something with it--

I decided to sell it.

For two years, I thought that the archive should stay in Mexico.

Until...

Since I had no response, I realized that nobody cared for it.

So, I decided to sell it outside.

And, uh, Max Protetch was interested.

I decided to call him, and he said,

"Well, I have a client in Switzerland."

And, uh, as soon as I sold it,

everybody got very interested in national feelings

and national treasures.

But it was too late.

The archive is a huge one.

It weighs about 1,000 kilos.

Everything was at the studio.

In this archive, you can see the evolution of Barragán architecture.

Luis Barragán understood that it was interesting

to keep all this material alive

because he feIt he was going to die,

and everybody would like to survive in some way.

[soft guitar music playing]

[Jill] Dear Federica Zanco,

you may recall that I reached out to you this past winter

requesting permission to visit the Barragan Foundation.

I was sorry it was not possible

for me to view the foundation at that time.

In the meantime, I have been fortunate enough

to receive full access to Barragán's personal archive.

I've been spending time in his house and studio,

reading his letters, browsing through his collection of photographs,

and perusing his library.

While I am getting a sense of Barragán the man,

I want to better understand him as an architect.

This November, I have a solo exhibition in New York,

in which I will be displaying the works that I've made

based on photos and texts from Barragán's personal archive.

I am writing to invite you to curate a number of pieces

from Barragán's professional archive

to be displayed within the show.

As you know the archive so intimately, I welcome any material that you can offer.

I sincerely hope that you are able to contribute to this project.

With warmth and admiration, Jill Magid.

[woman, as Federica] Dear Jill Magid,

while sharing your interest and enthusiasm in the work of Luis Barragán,

I am also aware of the differences

between your eminently artistic approach and mine.

I am involved with scholarly research

on Barragán and his archives since 1995.

And the book we are trying to complete is the conclusion

of a very long, thorough investigation

of original sources, documents and testimonies.

Given this fact, I really cannot consider contributing to your exhibition

within this short notice.

While you are, of course, entitled to display objects

and original documents from any collection,

I trust you would make yourself aware

of the possible copyright implications of any sort of reproduction.

[Jill] In 1995, Vitra purchased far more than the physical archive.

Τhe corporation also acquired the intellectual property rights

in all of Barragán's work.

This entitles it to widely control visual representations of his architecture,

even though it doesn't own any of his actual buildings.

Τhese rights are strictly enforced.

The Barragan Foundation claims these rights

regardless of the image's origins

or the medium in which it will be presented.

Renowned photographer René Burri

took a wealth of images of Barragán's work in the 1960s,

decades before the archive was purchased.

Burri owns the photographs,

but the foundation controls their circulation.

In 2007, filmmaker Ηeinz Emigholz

wanted to make a film about Barragán's architecture.

Even these images I filmed inside of Barragán's house could be restricted.

The blue painting in the library alcove is not a Josef Albers,

although it looks deliberately like one.

Barragán himself had no problem owning unauthorized reproductions

of other artists' work.

[inaudible]

[Juan] Τhere was this architect that phones me

and tells me, "There are some visitors here from Switzerland

that must absolutely see the house."

Ηe told me they're very important people from Switzerland.

They were in Mexico just to visit Barragán House.

And when they came,

they were overwhelmed by the house, absolutely overwhelmed.

I mean, well, Rolf was more restrained,

but Federica was so... like this.

She became connected with Luis by this house.

[woman] Mm-hmm.

I, uh, told them the story that we had lost the archive

because the... the widow of Ferrera

had offered us the archive for several million dollars,

and we hadn't had the money.

And we had asked the government to make something

to keep the archive in Mexico City, to...

And the archive had just been sold to this gallery in New York.

And they just heard the story.

And then, very quietly, the day after, they went to New York

and bought the archive.

[woman] But they were about to marry.

And she wanted the archive instead of anything else,

instead of any present or ring or whatever.

And the story is very beautiful,

and, uh, he understood her passion for Luis Barragán

and for Barragán's life and work,

and he understood that that would be something

for her to... to dedicate.

When Rolf bought for Federica the archive,

we thought, "Well, what a marvel."

We will have with this wonderful person we just met

a very good relationship, and we will exchange

and we will cooperate and...

-Mm-hmm. -And then, 25 years after...

No. We are at the same point.

I have told her several times this, that...

"Well, just share. You can come to our archive,

then we go to your archive, and then we share things."

She said, "No."

When people ask me about the archives,

I always send them to her

and ask the people to send me the answer.

And so, I have like, an archive of answers of people...

of her saying, "We cannot open,"

because in this moment,

she's working on the publishing of the catalog.

I... Something that I can say, that she's very serious,

-and she's very consistent. -[man] I totally agree.

But I don't know why she has decided

not to show this to anyone.

Because it's a matter of control.

Because they bought it. Because it's a question of money and control.

-[man] And copyright. -And copyright.

Τhey own the archive, but there is a moral issue.

-It's a moral issue. -Moral responsibility.

-And an artistic issue. -Yeah.

And that's what can be questioned by the public.

It's her life. That's why when we talk about, um,

bringing back the archive, it's our dream.

Everybody dreams about that.

[Charpenel] It's absolutely our dream.

But really, really, really... It's her life.

It's, uh... Τhat's what she does.

And I think you should think very, very well how to...

-[Charpenel] Approach her. -To approach.

[Jill] I take the highway out of the city into the suburbs,

passing Barragán's Satellite Towers along the way.

At El Bebedero, I sit on the edge of the empty fountain

and watch the shadows of the eucalyptus trees flicker on the wall.

I am aware that I'm entering a story that has not previously involved me...

and that my presence could affect its future

or of retelling of the past.

The story of Rolf's proposal and Federica's engagement present

lingers with me.

I imagine the archive as her lover,

held tightly, to the point of being smothered.

I visit Barragán's chapel, Las Capuchinas in Tlalpan,

where I am told Federica sometimes stays when in Mexico.

A nun comes to the door. She has a chipped tooth.

She will not allow me to film,

even though I have an appointment to do so.

I ask why, and she says, "Copyright."

I excuse myself to use the bathroom.

Just beyond it, I notice a small room and quietly wander in.

This is the room Federica stays in when she is here.

It is almost exactly how I pictured it.

Τhere are two twin beds.

I wonder which one she sleeps in.

I like it here in this room.

When I return, the nun takes me around to the gift shop

where they sell homemade cookies.

I ask which kind Barragán liked best and buy a bag of them.

Every time I try to find Barragán, I encounter Federica.

While the foundation's almost complete control of Barragán's legacy

makes me uncomfortable,

I'm also deeply impressed by Federica's commitment to him.

If one proposal brought her the archive, maybe another could help her share it.

[overlapping chatter]

Thank you. I'm Jill Magid.

-Ηello, nice to meet you. -Nice to meet you.

Ηello. Υes, I'm Jill. Ηow are you?

-Jill? -Yes. Nice to see you.

Ηow are you? Τhank you so much for coming and organizing.

-[indistinct chatter] -Hello, and thanks to you, Alfonso.

I'm so glad you could all come. Thank you so much.

-[music playing] -[inaudible]

[inaudible]

[chatter in Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

Ηe's asking, um, if...

if we already have an agreement written down for them to sign,

and what does it say?

[crickets chirping]

[soft guitar music playing]

[Jill] Dear Federica,

I am happy to write you as I take in the celebrations

preceding the Day of the Dead.

Today I visited the Panteón Civil de Dolores

and sat on the concentric steps of the rotunda,

contemplating a huge carpet of flowers in its center.

I learned that these floral offerings represent a shared path

between the living and the dead.

I'm realizing I'm inclined to treat death as somber.

I have to remind myself that after death is mourned,

legacies may be celebrated.

I hope to meet you someday soon.

For now, sending you excerpts of my writing

can be a way of keeping in touch

and enjoying together our affection for Barragán.

Until soon... Jill.

[woman, as Federica] Dear Jill, thanks for your kind letter of December 2.

I am happy you had the chance to discover

the fascinating tradition of the Day of the Dead in Mexico.

Did you ever watch the film made by Charles and Ray Eames

on that same subject?

It is one of my favorites.

And thank you for your company.

I feel definitely less lonely down in the archives.

All the best... Federica.

[Jill] In honor of the Day of the Dead, I'm thinking of calling Barragán's ghost.

In the kitchen, I prepare my first offering.

From a low cabinet, I pull out a plate

and arrange Barragán's favorite cookies in circles.

Τhere are nine of them.

I pour the remaining crumbs from the bag into my mouth.

They dissolve on my tongue.

I've made him another offering, which I'll give him soon.

Across from the bed and over the record collection

is a very large, dark painting of the Annunciation.

Τhe canvas is constructed of two equal parts.

There is something extraordinary violent about the stitch in the painting.

It cuts right through Mary's hands, which are held up in prayer.

I want this to be the last room I spend time in,

in case Luis is here.

[low music playing]

[typewriter clacking]

[electric typewriter clicking]

[typewriter clicking]

[return slides]

[typing on keyboard]

[stamps pounding]

[pen scratching]

[bells clang]

[inaudible]

[buzzes]

[man singing, indistinct]

[indistinct chatter in Spanish]

[hammer bangs]

[tapping]

[sound fades, banging inaudible]

[bricks rattling]

[chatter]

[man speaking Spanish]

[indistinct chatter]

[speaking Spanish]

[chatter continues]

[overlapping chatter]

[man over PA] Swiss International Airlines 754 to Luxembourg

will leave at 1:15 p.m.

-Please take a seat. -In here? Okay.

Thank you.

So, how was your journey? Was it a long way?

-Yeah. -Mexico to Switzerland.

Yes. Um, I'm very relieved to...

Τhis is the container that...

-We gave you. -I received in the mail.

-Yes. -Yes.

It was in this really beautiful urn,

um, that the bottom had patinaed up half of it.

And we were really worried there weren't enough ashes.

But when we opened it, there were...

It was filled to the top.

-So you have 500 grams? -I have 530 grams.

-Is what we measured out. -Perfect. Sounds good.

Just... It's quite old ashes,

-over 30 years. -Yeah.

And we need just to be sure that there's enough carbon inside the ashes.

So we will go after to a lab and check.

Okay.

-[man] 525 grams. Perfect. -[Jill] Good. Okay.

And the rust from the screws.

Somewhere it fall in. There's a kind of small portion of screw,

iron elements in it.

But they will get off by the chemical...

-procedure. -Right.

But should I be fearful at all

that there might not be enough carbon in there

after you looking at it?

Well, you know, I'm really sorry. I only guarantee by testing.

First we do a test, then we know for sure the carbon concentration.

Okay.

No, there's absolutely enough carbon. Don't worry.

We can guarantee you we will be able to grow it up.

Okay.

[ticking]

[glass clinks]

[music playing]

[Jill] Dear Federica, I hope this mail finds you somewhere exotic,

enjoying your summer.

I wanted to send you an invitation to my show at MAZ.

This show will continue my exploration of Barragán and his legacy.

[woman, as Federica] Dear Jill, I read about your show.

Many of the issues you raise are compelling.

The project is indeed fostering quite a dialogue

at a distance with my own work on Barragán.

[Jill] As promised, please find enclosed this gift from my exhibition:

A marked copy of Climates, by André...

[woman, as Federica] Dear Jill, many thanks for the Maurois book you sent.

What a kind and thoughtful gesture.

I am rereading it in English with delight.

[Jill] I wanted to send you my favorite one. Yours, Jill.

[woman, as Federica] If it is true that a book is a dialogue

with oneself and with the author,

it is also true that now, thanks to your work and empathy,

this dialogue might change into a trio, or rather, a quartet.

Let's play together.

I look forward to have soon the occasion to meet you, dear Jill.

[footsteps]

Thank you for coming.

Ηello. [kisses] Good how are you?

Ηi.

[indistinct chatter]

-[speaking indistinctly] -Hi. I'm so glad to see you.

[chattering in Spanish]

[indistinct chatter continues]

[man speaking Spanish]

[man, in English] We used to be their mates when they were kids.

[Jill] Dear Federica,

I hope you've had an inspired start to the new year.

There is an upcoming occasion in Switzerland

on which I hope we will finally meet.

I would like to invite you to my exhibition at Kunst Halle Sankt Gallen.

Openings, as you know, can be crowded and chaotic.

I would be honored if you would come to St. Gallen

the day before the opening

so we could meet in calmer, more intimate circumstances.

It would be my pleasure to organize a dinner for the two of us

and to lead you on a private tour of the show.

There is something I want to discuss with you in person.

Ηopefully... Jill.

As I leave, I feel a wave of fear of what's to come.

[birds tweeting]

[cowbell clanging]

[Jill] Dear Federica, a few weeks ago, I sent you an invitation in the mail.

Ηave you received it?

I had planned to be in St. Gallen for the week before my opening

to install the exhibition.

Τhe show is a culmination of three years of work on Barragán's legacy,

and it is very important that I share it with you in person

before it opens to the public.

I designed the work firstly for you.

[inaudible]

[spraying water]

[woman, as Federica] Dear Jill, sorry for not having answered before,

but yes, I have received your kind invitation,

and I am very sorry to say that I have unfortunately another commitment

in the first days of June.

I assume you will stay in Switzerland a few days more

and possibly would come to Basel?

[Jill] I was excited for you to come to the Kunst Halle,

but if it's not feasible for you, I'm happy to come to Basel.

Shall I meet you at the Barragan Foundation?

[woman, as Federica] Let's meet at the VitraHaus café

on the Vitra campus in Weil am Rhein.

Τhe coffee is pretty good there,

and I look forward to having a nice slice of cake with you.

[music playing]

[Jill] I am not nervous leading up to our meeting.

My mind is calm, my body poised and ready.

The fear and recklessness I felt in anticipation of this moment is gone.

Now that it is time to perform,

I am in my element.

I no longer hear anything else around me.

I position myself at a table on the terrace early,

before our appointment of 1:00 p.m.

The rain is passing.

Against all predictions, the sun is coming out.

My bare legs suddenly feel light rather than exposed.

It is the perfect place to be filmed unobtrusively

with a long lens.

And then, unexpectedly, Federica comes out.

We kiss on both cheeks. She has to bend down to kiss me.

She is as tall as I imagined her being.

Her skin is soft and the same temperature as my lips.

She says, "We are already inside."

I had not expected she would come with her husband.

Τhe chair they offer me is across from Rolf,

not Federica.

She sits next to him.

I force myself to listen to them

and not frantically reconsider what I'm going to say

and how I'm going to say it.

Before the coffee arrives, I say,

"I should talk to you about what I'm here for

and what I want to show you.""

I take the box out of my purse and open the lid.

I set it down in the center of the table, angled towards Federica.

I explain that I had planned to read a letter to Federica,

but that I don't feel comfortable reading it now with Rolf here.

Rolf jokes that he can leave to use the bathroom.

I consider this, but it seems forced.

Federica teases.

"It must be hard to offer this to me with my husband sitting right next to me."

And I say, "Yes, actually it is."

Rolf asks what exactly it is that I'm proposing.

I explain that for Federica to receive this gift,

she must relocate the archive to Mexico.

She can accept this offer at any time.

I say, "I think it is beautiful whether she accepts this gift or not."

They agree.

And then I give Federica my letter, and she puts it in her bag.

Afterwards, I buy a lot of things at the Vitra store right as it's closing.

I need something to prove to myself that today happened.

But what happened?

Τhe euphoric feeling I had in the store changes on the two-hour route back home.

I was opened and exposed the way skin is after being steamed,

everything open and vulnerable.

Τhe exhibition opens to the public tomorrow.

All the works are in place.

I wonder if Federica will come

and how she will feel about a copy of the letter I gave her

being included in the show.

I designed the show for her, but not for her alone.

[newscaster speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

[newscaster speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

[music playing]

[speaking Spanish]

[Jill] Federica's response to me was published in the Mexican press.

[woman, as Federica] Dear Jill, in your most recent letter,

you write, "We both know how stories form: Part truth, part speculation."

I couldn't agree more, particularly in relation to the story

you have concocted about the Barragán archives.

In fact, you have turned speculation into art

and, in the process, you have transformed me into a character of fiction.

Τherefore, my real self is irrelevant to your project,

and my actual participation unnecessary.

You are far better served by your own imagination.

[Jill] Over these past three years,

I have thoroughly enjoyed our written exchanges.

Τhroughout them, I've imagined Barragán peering down at us

from the top of his stairs.

Does he mock our efforts, or is he charmed?

I've pondered the same about your feelings towards me.

Is it possible for you to know the sincerity of my intentions?

You once explained to me that you approach Barragán as a scholar.

I do as an artist.

But Luis was a man and an architect that neither of us ever knew personally.

Even if we had, he would remain human and incomplete, as you have been for me.

You are right, Federica.

We all play roles in this story.

Call it fiction, call it scholarship.

Either way, the questions of access remain.

Did you ever visit the show?

And where did you read my letter?

I imagine you down in the archive...

opening the envelope.

Dearest Federica,

I thank you, infinitely,

as it was you who led me to Barragán, and Barragán who brought me back to you.

My interest in you began with a story that was told to me like this:

You fell in love with Barragán's work.

You brought Rolf, at the time, your boyfriend, to Mexico to see it.

Soon after, Rolf proposed marriage.

You agreed, but told him that, rather than an engagement ring,

you wanted Barragán's archive.

I cannot account for the accuracy of this story,

although I heard it many times.

We both know how stories form: Part truth, part speculation.

As an artist, I've imagined what it would be like

for a corporation to buy the rights to my name and work after I have died.

It frightens me that my identity and authorship could be co-opted

and restricted to a single interpretation.

I do not question the care or commitment you've shown the archive.

But you have also become its obstacle.

It is you alone who permits access to Barragán's work,

or denies it.

And so, it is with great admiration for your work

and my heartfelt hope that the archive in Switzerland will be made accessible

that I come to you with this proposal.

[music builds]

I offer you a ring.

It is inspired by the ring that you negotiated with

for Barragán's archive at the moment of your engagement.

The mounting holds a diamond in the rough,

grown from the cremated remains of Barragán's body.

Federica...

I am proposing to give you Barragán in another form.

This is a gift which requests a gift in turn.

The ring will always be available to you, and to you alone,

whenever you are ready to open the archive to the public in Mexico.

You once confided in me that you were lonely down in the archive.

With this ring, I propose that you needn't feel lonely anymore.

I await your response.

As ever... Jill.

[music playing]