by Joana Hadjithomas & Khalil Joreige
Cinema cannot repair history. But it can give forms, incarnate, unsettle the ways history has been written. It can reveal, make visible what has been erased while leaving room for what remains invisible.
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Hereness is in smiling for the mugshot camera. Hereness is inside the prison itself, turning the null space into a source of meaning unto itself. Hereness is pure being; it is what remains when the Arms have seized everything else.
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In the summer of 1989, my mother and I drove to participate in Ayatollah Khomeini’s public funeral. His body was displayed in a refrigerated glass case sitting atop an elevated platform in what was then a vast empty lot, which later became the Imam Khomeini Mosalla Mosque. The heat of that summer day was intense, and the sheer size of the crowd was astonishing.
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