Stop-motion animation, 11:46 Minutes, sound, Music: Johan van der Voet
Read the script:
It all started with a mysterious package.
It was waiting for me with a brief message: “things to take with you”…
I recognized the return address, of someone I had once been very close to. It was a long time since we had met or spoken; I had moved to another country and left her behind. Although we had lost touch, I have many memories of her.
I was curious to see what was in the box, but afraid, too. I decided not to open it right away, but to wait for the right moment. And then one day, to my surprise, it just opened!
What is this formless mass? What is this chaos? Why would anyone bother to preserve such a pile of nothingness? There must have been a reason for her taking the trouble to pack it and send it all this way. For her it was probably a significant collection.
I decided to try to order the material. I felt that there had to be a message hidden in it. I wanted to find out what her motivation had been, what had moved her, what she had felt. Why had she kept all these ‘leftovers’, broken pieces, sculptures that had been ruined with the years?
Like in an excavation site, I started to dig. I did my best to organize and classify the material. I carefully separated and grouped objects by colour, size, and recognizable shape. It was not easy to distinguish valuable or significant pieces from the broken bits. Some fragments were impossible to reconstruct.
Slowly I started to understand why she had not been able to throw these things away. I recognized some of the figures from her past – they were her family and friends, her lovers and acquaintances. I could even make out some old portraits of me among the sculptures.
These broken objects were her memories, her fears, her dreams and longings given a tangible form… She had modelled her life with this fragile material, and she knew: their time is short, they will not survive. But once they existed, how could one ever throw them away?
I once heard that all material is equivalent to energy, and energy is preserved; it may change form, but it is never wasted.
She had worked, and I inherited her unfinished story….
I collected the broken pieces like neglected children. I tried to put them together again. I couldn’t really fix them all. They are still a bit shabby, but they survived!
For so many years they have waited for this moment when somebody gives them a name, tells their story, breath life into them.
So come on! Please, little creatures, wake up, start moving, get up and walk! Present yourself!
Give your best performance – because it might be your last! Your last March!