Translucent Being: Trinh T. Minh-ha

The origins of the “Land of Ten Thousand Springs” – as the territory of present-day Vietnam was once known – are shrouded in several ancient myths about land and water. It is precisely the dialogue between these two elements that forms the basis of Trinh T. Minh-ha’s essayistic film. Through footage shot in 1995 and 2012, the film gives a voice to local people, communities and war veterans of the devastating Cold War conflict. Their memories intertwine with images of everyday life in contemporary Vietnam, creating a multi-layered portrait of a country straddling the boundaries between tradition and change, memory and oblivion, and solid ground and flowing water.

What exactly is Senegal? And what is a film about Senegal? These are the questions posed by director Trinh T. Minh-ha in her groundbreaking film. Her observations of a Senegalese village actually focus primarily on the language of film itself and the ways in which it shapes the viewer’s perception. Using a 16mm camera, she captures the everyday lives of the people of Senegal – their traditions, culture and community relationships. On a self-reflexive level, however, the film questions its own mode of representation as well as the conventions typical of ethnographic documentaries. It thus also brings to the fore the question of who is watching, who is being observed, and what power the image holds over what we consider to be reality.“I don’t talk about things. I talk around them.”

The documentary focuses on the status of women in Vietnamese society, both historically and in the present day. It challenges dominant narratives simply by giving space to women’s voices and their subjective experiences. It combines the testimonies of Vietnamese women and the stories of female immigrants with archival material, folklore, prose and poetry. Through these diverse sources, it offers a critical perspective on Vietnamese society’s relationship with women. At the same time, through historical testimonies and deliberately staged scenes, the documentary explores the pitfalls of language as a tool for shaping identity and social memory.   “Men want to grab a bigger slice of the pie. They hold key positions of power, while women are left with nothing but crumbs.”

The restless soul of the traveller never remains in one place for long. Today, his journey is ritually captured by a series of visual records that bear witness to a specific time and place, as well as to something that defies words. In her first digital film, documentary filmmaker Trinh T. Minh-ha turns her attention to Japan and its cultural and social rituals. The camera becomes a meticulous instrument of observation and tentative understanding. Made at the turn of the millennium, the film is also a meditation on the ways in which we attempt to capture the world through the moving image. Within this world, the director finds herself in the dual role of an isolated observer and a guide.

What are we losing from our past as we forget? And what traces of a past that has almost vanished do we still find today in music or folk myths? This documentary presents China as a complex mosaic of people, customs and stories that defies simple interpretation. Through footage of the country’s rural areas filmed in the 1990s, alongside narration, poetry and music, it revisits the past while tracing its echoes in the present. Despite its emphasis on the concept of harmony, the film does not offer an idealised portrait of this Asian superpower. In its exploration of the country, it refuses to shy away from social or gender inequalities and, in an era of global transformation, turns its attention primarily to the Chinese people, including those most vulnerable.