Understanding Art as a Form of Resistance.
The Louvre, that vast and articulate place filled with art known in the furthest reaches of the earth.
The one that was the stage for the most famous theft, the stolen Mona Lisa, whose system of protection often failed so much so that Picasso is said to have gone there to find inspiration and ideas but first turning to his friends said, I’m going to the Louvre, do you need anything?
Well, the Louvre is the protagonist of a fine documentary (or film? or fiction? personal diary? presented at the 72nd Venice International Film Festival), Aleksandr Sokurov‘s 2015 Francofonia, which, starting from the very place, investigates the relationship between art and society, between past and present, between real events and imagined reconstructions.
A stream of images in the present (a friend talking on skype from a container carrier transporting works of art) and in the past (the relationship between Louvre director Jacques Jaujard and Count von Wolff-Metternich, who was responsible for caring for France’s artistic heritage on behalf of the German occupation authorities).
This film is unclassifiable, which is why it has enormous appeal.
The Louvre is the quintessential symbol of art, but here in 1940, it is emptied of almost everything. In fact, the works have been disappearing into French castles to preserve them from the enemy. And the enemy comes, he is Von Wolff-Metternich, and yet he does not say to bring the works back to the Louvre, but rather cooperates with director Jaujard so that they remain where they are. Not only that, Von Wolff-Metternich gets permission from Hitler to make leaflets for the soldiers occupying the castles, to prevent the destruction of the heritage.
But as these events are being told, we see wandering around the museum a nimble and quick Marianne reciting only Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité and a smug and proud Napoleon for enriching the museum.
Who stole what? Who is the enemy and who is not? Von Wolff-Metternich, a Rhineland aristocrat, is a hero of the Great War, and between choosing Goering’s and the Nazis’ orders and preserving art, he chooses the latter.
While Museum Director Jaujard, instead of fleeing south with the government, remains at his post guarding the Louvre.
For both, the homeland is Art. For both it makes sense to override contingency in the name of art.
If the first level of this film/documentary is the relationship via Skype between the filmmaker and his friend on the freighter transporting works of art (works of art at the mercy of the weather, fear of losing cargo, a metaphor for a world that cares less and less about art and is collapsing culturally), the second is this incredible but true story, where two patriots and enemies, find themselves in the name of art working together in a dark and devastating scenario.
But there is a third level and it is that of the Marianne who dances through the halls and observes the works and continuously recites Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité and the narcissistic Napoleon who is satisfied and watches his raids and pronounces Why would I have waged war? For art!
It is an act of love for art and for France, but also a reflection on politics intertwined with art.
Sokurov tells us firsthand about beauty, Art, Europe’s cultural heritage and the need to remember and preserve it. In a long soliloquy that goes backwards and then forwards. Without needing to follow the plot, which does not exist here, or rather there are three plots that intersect without necessarily wanting to unite them.
There is a flow here, not a strictly filmic logical sense.
Yet there is a sense of the interlocking of past and present, of peoples competing for works but then in the name of Art, forgetting the historical moment in order to save beauty.
Of course there is also the political fact, there is Russia, there is a reading of history that compares Napoleon to Hitler, but there is also Russia defeating one and the other. And then there is Tolstoy and Chekhov, both just dead-their pictures-and Russia with the massacres of Stalingrad. The death of the writers perhaps signifies the end of an era but also the possible birth of what will be Europe. The nineteenth century is over, the new century brings great upheavals.
Europe with its flaws though, for it has looted works of art that perhaps were right to remain in their countries of origin. But also an act of love for the cultural richness that followed.
Art has always defined power (think of the relationship between artists and the Vatican during the Renaissance) but it is also fragile and in need of care. Which is a metaphor for our Europe, powerful ( or at least it was) and fragile. Which has been able to preserve a heritage that perhaps with wars would have been lost.
Sokurov suggests a shaky present (the cargo ship in the storm at sea) and the past (which has preserved art).
Where are we today? The documentary is ten years old and we can say that a lot has happened. Yet that hovering of art persists even as the order of factors changes. Wars continue to destroy and perhaps there are fewer people coming together to preserve Art.
In this flow of images, fear, beauty, and redemption speak to us: Napoleon declares his willingness to raid to protect Art, but Marianne reminds us of the cardinal principles of the revolution namely Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité.
Human beings try to live by finding a balance between these two worldviews, and Francofonia prompts us to reflect starting with the importance of Art.
