An impressionistic picture of the Danes
One of Denmark’s most promising young directors Martin de Thurah has made the first exhibition chapter of the Danish pavilion, Tales of how we live. In three short films he paints an impressionistic picture of Denmark and the Danes.
A house that soars into the night with roots hanging down from underneath. A mysterious black box that travels through a magical forest landscape. A girl dressed in ripped clothes who dances strangely on the springboard by a pool.
Welcome to the dreamy universe of the Danish film and music video director Martin de Thurah, a universe not easily categorised or captured, a universe that is to be sensed and felt rather than analysed. Martin de Thurah, 35, has previously done critically acclaimed short films, one of which was selected for Cannes in 2008, and music videos for Röyksopp, Mew and Fever Ray, among others, from which the scenes above have been taken.
- Many of the things I have done are about identity. They deal with transformations. I am very interested in the fragility of human beings and in their vulnerability. I am interested in how one exists in the world. Or how hard it can be to exist, says Martin de Thurah who graduated in animation direction from the National Film School of Denmark in 2002. He has created the first chapter of the fairytale book-shaped exhibition inside the Danish pavilion, Tales of how we live, which will feature three short films with themes such as the city of family, the city of water and the city of bikes. Martin de Thurah is also going to do a fourth film about the journey of the Little Mermaid from Copenhagen to Shanghai, which will be shown in the pavilion.
What made you say yes to join the Danish Expo project?
- I thought it sounded like an exciting artistic project and a challenge to do films about something as abstract as Denmark. When you look at the aesthetics of the films produced earlier to market the country, they seem rather impersonal with images of green fields shot from above and happily smiling people eating ice cream. Of course, that is my own way of categorising what has been done before. But it was certainly not how I wanted to do it.
How did you approach this project?
- I started by brainstorming and writing down many loose fragments on a piece of white paper. I wanted some of these fragments to spread out and together form the touch of a story. It had to be more than just seeing people. In a way, the films turned out to be very much about love, freedom and playfulness. In one of them you just bike around and fall in love. In another, there is a little girl who is not old enough for the boys to be interested in her, and she watches them as they pass by. These are tiny stories that are connected with each other. But everything is left completely open to interpretation.
Why did you create all these short stories and not one coherent plot?
- It simply wasn’t the kind of film I wanted to do. It had to be an impressionistic picture of Denmark. I wanted to find a lot of tiny pieces, like a mosaic, that together would form a dramaturgy or a journey. I knew there had to be some elements of mystery and some very concrete. If you film a little girl who is drinking a glass of water and make that particular clip in a beautiful and respectful way, it may turn into something great. This one picture can tell a huge story - like a still image can.
What has been the biggest difference between working with this project and your previous ones?
- It felt incredibly structureless because it was such a broad theme. Sometimes I didn’t know whether to be excited or cry. The films could be made in many different ways and I just had to trust myself when we captured something that felt good and right. There had to be a mixture between people and places but with a human depth to it because, if not, it would become totally irrelevant. The films show just a fraction of Denmark but in a multi-layered way.
Which kind of sentiment are you trying to promote in the three films?
- Most important is the sense of freedom of movement, love, playfulness and presence in the films, which means that when you watch the films you feel like eating the grass, touching the places, looking at the light and sitting under the tree. You actually feel that somebody is sitting on an old bike or falling in love.
In some of the Expo films and in much of your previous work you seem to circle around the stage between childhood and the adult world. Does this fascinate you?
- I remember that time very clearly and the intense dynamic of my forming years. It was chaotic, dangerous and wide open. So many things were at stake. It was all difficult, vulnerable, beautiful and strong at the same time. You fell in love, deadly, for the first time and you didn’t know exactly who you were.
Much of your work takes place in a supernatural and magical place. Why?
- That is how I think reality is. Reality has cracks and strangeness to it and if you look at it with your eyes wide open, it is even wilder than you can imagine. I am interested in a more mental, abstract, metaphysical space than meets the eye. But the reason why I think it works for me is because it is always rooted in some concrete, experienced emotion - something very human and recognisable.
What do you think about the fact that you will be representing Denmark in a pavilion that will be visited by somethree million visitors?
- It is hard for me to imagine what it’s going to be like, but I do hope the films will somehow touch people’s emotions. And I think it is a fantastic way of branding Denmark in a much more personal and open way.
