Memory Is an Animal, It Barks with Many Mouths

Directed, filmed and edited by Eva Giolo
Produced by Ar/Ge Kunst Bozen, Biennale Gherdëina & elephy
Executive Producers Francesca Verga, Zasha Colah and Lorenzo Giusti
Coorination Producers Greta Langgartner & Stefano Riba
Sound design Simonluca Laitempergher
Colourist Lennert de Taeye
Animation Boram Lee

Made with the kind support of Flanders Audiovisual Fund (VAF)

“A playful and sensorial constellation of images and sounds that compose a map-of-sorts of a territory deployed through the resistance of Ladino language, storytelling and performative gestures. I admire how the frontiers between human and more-than-human elements of land become swiftly blurred through the gorgeous sound design and the suggestive narratives that are unfolded. Also– the editing of this piece is brilliant! I hope I can get to know more of the work of this artist.” (Tania Hernández Velasco).

“The essence of memory lies in sounds and smells, sensations, touches, perceptions; perhaps what truly strikes us isn’t the monumentality of the history contained within buildings, but the energy of the people that remains trapped there, like a princess who will never be saved. Eva Giolo’s film is such a capsule, a playful reenactment that sends children to look for history inside caves and among the plants. A collection of adventures just unearthed from the ground, traversed thru forests with whispers coming from the depths and tugging at your sleeve. And then there’s the Ladin language, with its playful inflections, a language almost lost, spoken only by this small community. How does a language disappear, how does history actually disappear? And how do we find her again?” (Georgiana Mușat)

“In Eva Giolo’s latest work, memory is not a whisper but a wild chorus, echoing through the valleys of the Dolomites in Northern Italy. Breath becomes vibration, and vibration becomes voice, as the Ladin language, a protected Rhaeto-Romanic tongue, is spoken by children who conjure up myths through stone, plants and water. Sound and image come together like different playthings in a child’s hand, journeying simply to wander. Giolo invites us into a space where memory is luminous, not linear—where stories bark with many mouths, and the past lingers just beneath the surface.” (Hyun Jin Cho)