Interview with director & producer JENS SCHANZE
AM: Within the film's storytelling, the colonial chronicles of Guamán Poma de Ayala seem to function as a mirror of the present. How did you work on the structure so that this past dialogues with current 'expectations' and future projections under the persistent shadow of colonialism?
JS: Right at the start of my research into postcolonial studies, I came across Guamán Poma’s chronicle. It comprises almost 1,200 pages, divided into 39 chapters. We focused our analysis on those chapters dealing with conditions in pre-Columbian times and the period of the Spanish conquest. It was striking that many of his statements and observations could be applied to events and circumstances in the present day. We had initially identified a large number of passages that were relevant to the film. As the editing process progressed, it became increasingly clear which passages corresponded with our footage in such a way as to bring out nuances and open up scope for interpretation in relation to the theme of postcolonialism.
You define the film as a multi-perspective narrative achieved after six years of fieldwork. In portraying these meetings and gatherings between EU diplomats, entrepreneurs, and local communities, did you perceive any point of real convergence between these worlds, or is what emerges rather a distance of languages and imaginaries that the players have of each other?
The research and fieldwork took just over four years, whilst editing and post-production took a year and a half. During that time, I did not observe any real understanding developing between the parties involved. The interests of one’s own side and political manoeuvring dominated the encounters. Amongst people form the local population, I perceived a greater willingness to engage in open dialogue and to seek solutions that would serve the interests of all.
The film highlights a paradox: the ecological transition driven by Europe seems to move at a very different pace from the consequences it generates in Bolivian territory. Do you believe that this ideal of global sustainability, as it is being negotiated today, risks functioning in practice as a new packaging for old colonial logics?
Growing prosperity and the associated way of life, particularly in industrialised countries, is based on the consumption of raw materials. The extraction of non-renewable raw materials through mining invariably causes damage, whether cultural, social or environmental. This also applies to the raw materials needed for the technologies of the so-called green energy transition. As long as these raw materials are extracted mainly in countries of the so-called Global South – most of which are former colonies of today’s industrialised nations – it is very likely that the old patterns will be repeated. Unless, that is, all parties involved recognise this injustice as a problem and are willing to work together as equals for the benefit of all. At the same time, people in industrialised countries would have to drastically reduce their consumption of resources.
Considering your previous interest in the loss of social ties in German mining areas, and based on certain testimonies in the documentary, it might appear that for a part of the community, the immediate priority is employment and economic stability. Did you feel that this material urgency sometimes eclipses broader debates on identity, sovereignty or the lessons of history?
Divergent or even conflicting interests within a community are, after all, the norm rather than the exception. What matters is how the group deals with them. I was very impressed by the intense and constructive discussions we witnessed in Bolivia. The continuing material inequality between the local population and the representatives of foreign interests opens, of course, the door to a new relationship of dependency or the continuation of the existing one. Securing one’s livelihood in the short term and ensuring long-term autonomy must not be seen as an either/or situation; rather, they go hand in hand. Under extremely precarious living conditions, it may well be impossible to adopt this perspective. Yet some people manage to do so. And I believe that businesses and politicians are in the position and have a responsibility to make this perspective the foundation of their actions.
The title 'Materia Prima' (Raw Material) carries a very strong symbolic weight. Since the film captures a moment prior to the start of industrial activity, how did you attempt to use your camera to transform that vision of the land as a mere 'latent resource' or market object into something that recovers its dimension of dignity and belonging for those who inhabit it?
We have tried to discover and understand the significance of the land, the places and the landscape for the people who live there. By listening and spending time together, a picture emerges of what matters to them in their surroundings and what may be at risk as a result of industrialisation and extractivism. We have tried to capture this picture on camera. The vast expanse of the Salar de Uyuni, the asperity of the mountain ranges and their unspoilt nature evoke a sense of transcendence, a description of which we have also found in Guamán Poma’s chronicle.
On a visual level, the documentary’s cinematography is extremely meticulous and of striking beauty. After a career observing struggles for economic justice, did you ever fear that excessive aestheticization might soften the political message, or do you believe that such beauty is necessary to restore dignity to a territory that the outside world often sees only as a deposit?
I have been working with cinematographer Börres Weiffenbach for over 25 years. We agree that every film requires its own visual language, appropriate to its subject matter. Several of our protagonists in Bolivia spoke of the magical beauty and spiritual significance of the mountains, valleys and plains. And we felt the same. This sense of awe is therefore perhaps something universal, not tied to any particular culture or language. This landscape and this habitat represent an enduring value that is potentially being sacrificed for good in favour of industrial use that is likely to last no more than 30 to 50 years. We felt it was important to reflect this in our visual language.
Towards the end of the film, a sense of uncertainty remains within the local communities. After having spent so much time with them, do you believe that the inhabitants of these areas see themselves as protagonists of a change or as victims of a repeating historical cycle?
We have met a variety of characters: some are rather disillusioned and focused on the daily struggle for survival, whilst others are combative and driven by the conviction that they must set the course for their own future and, above all, for future generations. What will we leave behind? This question is a powerful driving force and unleashes people's energy that is also perceptible in our film. As I see it, many people feel strongly that this is the moment in our history when it is up to us, when we must not give in under any circumstances.
Producing in Bolivia over these six years, in a context marked by roadblocks, shortages, and even an attempted military coup at over 4,000 meters above sea level, must have been a test of endurance. Could you detail how you balanced, on one hand, the purely practical and logistical challenges of such an extreme shoot and, on the other, the ethical challenges involved in documenting such a fragile reality without imposing an external gaze?
The key to tackling these complex challenges was finding the Bolivian members of our team. Over a period of two and a half years, we built up a network in Bolivia. Key figures were Patricia Quintanilla, a filmmaker and experienced producer from La Paz, and Rodrigo Mamani, who lives in the Uyuni region and, like many Bolivians, works across various sectors. We have also established contacts with numerous NGOs, as well as with various officials at the embassies and the EU Delegation in Bolivia, and with the Bolivian government and ministries. Thanks to the sheer number and diversity of our contacts and interviewees, we have become increasingly immersed in the discourse taking place within Bolivia. Our funding partners in Germany have given us the time needed to go through this process. Even whilst filming, we had the opportunity to examine and understand our protagonists’ individual situations in great detail and to find a way to portray their respective perspectives.
We were able to overcome the logistical challenges involved in scheduling the filming thanks to the experience of our Bolivian team members and the patience and flexibility of our staff in Germany.
We took over responsibility for production from our co-production partner following the first phase of filming, during which the project was on the verge of being cancelled. This has given us the freedom to continue with the necessary time and care.
The original article was published by CineCritica.
