Chantal Akerman-Travelling
On Treatment of Time and Intentional Conduct
"The retrospective exhibition Chantal Akerman – 'Travelling,' hosted by BOZAR Brussels between March 12 and July 21, 2024, and currently at Jeu de Paume in Paris until January 28, 2025, is the first major exhibition on the Brussels-born Belgian feminist filmmaker, writer, and artist (1950–2015). This showcase highlights Akerman’s experimental avant-garde films that yearned for a return to ordinary curiosity.
It’s been a while since I saw the show, and life has been busy over the past few months. This delay doesn’t reflect on the volume of art I’ve consumed in the meantime but rather highlights the backlog of articles waiting for my attention. Nevertheless, it has taken me some time to marinate on this body of work. And As I sort through that backlog, it feels only fitting to share what has been on my mind the longest.
Nothing Happens
When I saw the Expo at Bozar, in March, I initially wasn’t sure if I liked her work. There was something unsettling about my experience—an impatience in the pacing of time within her films that left me uneasy. Although I grasped her subject matter, the storytelling felt violently still. No, at this point, you might ask why I didn’t just leave it as it was—not liking it. But this journey has been about being both intellectually and physically curious about the art I’m exposed to. After some research—which is one of my favorite parts of engaging with the physical, written exploration—I’ve come to understand that she introduced this pacing intentionally, so viewers could sit with their responses in 'real-time. In contrast to usually imposed reality of time in Hollywood film, Akerman’s films are slow and almost in real time gripping you just enough to hold your attention but ultimately leaving you with a profound emotional reaction.
From the very beginning in Brussels to her time spent filming in the Mexican desert. Her work varied in subject, form, and style but was always deeply personal. Her career, which began in her mid-twenties introduced artistically advanced and personal cinema that redefined the art of filming oneself—of a woman filming herself and the bending of space and time in film.
Experimental Film & the Here and Now
From the beginning Akerman followed her creative compass. To break away from her mother, she left for New York in the early 1970s, aged 20, with barely more than $50 in her pocket. ‘I felt I had to go there because it was a freer, more open place,’ she would later say about this break away. To survive, she worked as a cashier in a porn cinema. With the money she earned, and a few stolen film reels, she made a short film about herself in her New York room, la Chambre (1972). She also self-financed Hotel Monterey (1973), the film consists of long shots and takes of a New York hotel. In her signature documentary style, each room introduces a different pattern, the story slowly unfolds as we are taking into different rooms -some occupied some not.
While in New York, she studied avant-garde filmmakers, which explains the experimental nature of her films. They feel more like documentaries or art films that leave you questioning everything rather than feeling entertained. I recently watched such a film, and I’m still not sure whether it was brilliant or a terrible mind-bend.With this initial scepticism, I’ve been determined to find out whether Akerman’s work, for me, results in the latter or the former. Another clue is that her first films were made around the time when video was becoming an art form (1960s–1970s). Which sounds like justifying confusion as an experience ..okay but that conclusion was not satisfactory.
The Myth of Entertainment
Regarding this expansion, art theorist Gene Youngblood would later say, 'When we say expanded cinema, we actually mean an expanded consciousness.' I found this reading more compelling—creating offbeat films as a reaction to Hollywood. Post-war experimental filmmakers opposed the aesthetics and politics of mainstream media, challenging overly deterministic films that presented unrealistic portrayals of their subjects.
Remember when I said the subject matter is still what drew me in? Here we go—rather than creating 'unrealistic' films or trying to validate what is true by capturing it, avant-garde film examined what was already present: the slow, seemingly mundane, the story of the relatable here and now.
Although Hollywood and the new age of technology and television focused on 'something more,' avant-garde genres suggested a return to ordinary curiosity. They countered the myth of entertainment—the illusion that film is solely a means of passive consumption, pleasure, and escape. Avant-garde film offered a world infinitely more natural and complete than that of commercial cinema or television. Which became a form to confirm existing consciousness rather than expanding it. This makes me think of phrases like did it happen if its not pictured. However, film as art, became the language through which the audience could perceive relationships at play in both physical and metaphysical means.
La Chambre, is such an experiment of bending cinematic time and space, as the camera makes circular pans around a small apartment, capturing the everything’s of the interior's furniture, its clutter, and the filmmaker herself as the main subject—staring back from the bed—creating a sort of moving still life. Like a painting, the rooms purpose is only purpose is to be seen. Going even beyond the hinted purposefulness of avant garde film, because there’s no “point” her films remained experimentally honest even hereafter.
A Female gaze
I was in awe of how many of her work center women as the main characters and tell stories from their point of view. As a woman and a creative, I appreciated this intentional focus. In Jeanne Dielman, her most successful film we follow a devoted caricature of an invisible women, as she goes through her daily routine, mothering, cleaning, performing domestic tasks and even Jeanne's prostitution is part of a mundane routine but on this particular day she kills. Even after the act she continues to carry on these tasks, as diligent as any other day.
Similarly, in “Blow Up My Town” (1976), Chantal Akerman, the protagonist played by herself, isolates herself in her apartment. In a childlike fashion, whistling a song, she engages in chaotic and destructive actions within her kitchen—her tasks leading to more destruction than the creation of order. In the unsettling crunch of timekeeping, Akerman captured the emotional devastation caused by the mundane and repetitive nature of domestic tasks. These tasks ultimately drive her characters to turn inward, either blowing up their domestic enclosures or dismantling their perpetrators using the tools of their trade
Never have I seen a film on female agency that arms its characters not only through the subject matter but also through the filming choices, allowing us to truly enter the madness created by their environments. We are returned to Akerman’s hyperreality, which evokes uneasiness with what is in plain sight. Balancing representation by rephrasing drama in such familiar settings speaks to the success of these films.
Akerman, with these films and many others, centers complex female characters and does the opposite of the male gaze. On multiple screens in the exhibition, the repetition is shown as the shots move from one task end to the next one’s start, making you wonder how much longer it will go on and what will happen on the next screen. This brings back her realistic torture of time and pace.
Art in Isolation
Another work that left an impression on me was experimental documentary film From the East (1993), made by Akerman while on a research project. Retracing a journey from the end of summer to deepest winter. This film documents the daily life in the Soviet Union, captured in Russia, Poland, Ukraine and the former East-Germany three years after the fall of the Berlin wall. This unnarrated film investigates the stories of people’s lives after the collapse of the Eastern Bloc.
Without dialogue, we observe a transition of faces, landscapes, temperatures and residents as if seen from a moving vehicle. even the visual and the sound collapses realism, as all sounds pass by; footsteps, the radio, the opéra sometime only later seeing its source. This relentless rhythm, captured through an observational lens, left me unsettled. I felt both curious and voyeuristic, attempting to piece together a narrative. It was an unusual glimpse into 'how the other half lives,' creating an ethnographic discomfort I wasn’t sure how to process. Although nothing was explicitly stated, the images are honestly gripping, and ideas emerged simply through what Akerman shows us.
The How of Doing Things
Claire Atherton worked as a video technician on The East (1993) with Akkerman. She reflected on their intentional editing style, noting that they never discussed what the images suggested to them during the process. I have rarely seen a film set in a context foreign to its maker that leans toward documentary without venturing into an anthropological study in this way. The shots in this film are captured with minimal context or anticipation, avoiding any hint of preconceived perspectives or assumptive observations.
I appreciate the lack of abstraction in Akkerman's work; it resonated with something a monk recently shared in my Sunday meditation class. 'It's not only about your intention but also about your conduct,' he began, highlighting the Western habit of picking and choosing what we think is 'essential.' But I believe that’s not how it works he went on; we must embrace the whole or at least show genuine interest without expecting to understand everything immediately. The broader culture in which meditation practices exist is essential to grasp—not just intention but also conduct, the how of doing things.
This monk’s wisdom reminded me of the impatience I felt exploring this exhibition. My eagerness to immediately grasp 'the essential' or fully consume the experience was, perhaps, misplaced. Chantal's work interrupts this urgency; it demands stillness and self-reflection. You can't rush through it, but instead must sit patiently with the images, finding meaning that is both personal and universal
The Artist Way.
This experimental approach, by leaving out details, focuses solely on the subjects in the aftermath of everything that came before. No political or historical context is provided about the collapse, nor is there information from both sides. The shots capture the daily monotony: waiting tiredly at a bus stop in mid-winter and watching a moving and even joyful scene of dancing at home. In a way, it compels patience and encourages a deep connection with what you see. It offers an intimate view of human life, making one wonder what a similarly experimental documentary might look like if made today, whether in New York, Paris, or Brussels.
Working more like an artist than a projection-driven creator, she didn’t always define what the outcome would be in advance. While keeping the viewer in mind, her films encourage you to engage, move, and explore, rather than presenting a clear message. Her work naturally evolved into installations, which similarly create a space and context that invites the viewer to question and interpret. Despite the often-political subject matter of her films, the lack of overt abstraction in her installations still leaves room for conceptual and artistic mystery.
The Dessert
The final work that caught my eye was Voices in the Desert (2002) In 2002, Chantal Akerman released *De l'autre côté*, a film about the issues along the Mexico–United States border. That same year, she presented a video installation, *From the Other Side*, which included segments from *De l'autre côté* and the video *Une voix dans le désert*. The project was inspired by an article Akerman read about American ranchers who hunted undocumented immigrants with magnum shotguns and night-vision goggles, claiming Mexicans were 'bringing dirt.'
Focusing on the word 'dirt,' Akerman thought of related slurs, such as 'Dirty Jew' and 'Dirty Arab.' Her research led her to Agua Prieta and Douglas, two small towns on either side of the border. In *Voices in the Desert*, Akerman gathered testimonials that brought these experiences together from opposite sides of the desert. Once again, she framed her work with intentionality yet without abstraction, blending clever artistry with documentary realism. Set at the border, the piece explores the notion of the 'other.' In the stillness of the landscape, an irony unfolds—even what is illegal in one place exists comfortably in the other. The stories and fears tied to this context resonate within this notion of 'dirt.'
There’s so much more I could say about Chantal Akerman-her womanhood, her own sexuality, her Jewish identity, and so on. But it’s her unique treatment of time and delicate conduct with subject matter and not merely her intention. that, I believe, holds the key to understanding her work. Many of her films remain rare due to their avant-garde nature, but fortunately, a treasure trove of her work can be found on the Internet Archive.
The exhibition ‘Chantal Akerman. Travelling’ has now come to a close at BOZAR Brussels. But if you find yourself in Paris, a modified version of the exhibition is presented at the @jeudepaumeparis, Paris till January 19, 2025.
Do not hesitate to further indulge online via the Chantal Akerman Foundation on Instagram.
Recommended youtube searches
Jan Decorte spreekt met Chantal Akerman (youtube.com)
Chantal Akerman: From the Other Side (youtube.com)
Het tragische lot van Chantal Akerman - Filmkrant
A Critical Guide to Understanding Experimental Film | Art for Sale | Artspace
A Critical Guide to Understanding Experimental Film | Art for Sale | Artspace
Female Filmmaker Friday: Hôtel Monterey, 1972 (dir. Chantal Akerman) | the diary of a film history fanatic (cinema-fanatic.com)
When Art House Was King: The Golden Age of International Cinema | The Artifice (the-artifice.com)