Category: Cinema

Interlitq’s Californian Poets Interview Series: Harry Northup, Actor and Poet, interviewed by David Garyan

Harry Northup (photo credit: Alexis Rhone Fancher)

Interlitq’s Californian Poets Interview Series:

Harry Northup, Actor and Poet

interviewed by David Garyan


Harry Northup’s poems to appear soon in Interlitq’s California Poets Feature


DG: Not many can say they’ve had the privilege of finding renown in two different artistic fields—for you that has been acting and poetry. Usually, we conceive of the former as bringing the voices of others to life, while the latter is seen as a quest to find your own voice, and then express it. Is the matter really that simple, however? In other words, how has poetry informed not only your work as an actor and vice versa, but also, how are they, generally, closer than we may initially think?

HN: In poetry you learn how to make good use of time and space. Films are very expensive and they go down fast, so you have to be prepared, know what you are going to do in that frame. Poetry gives you confidence—the making of a poem, the focus of craft, finding value in the craft. It’s not really a matter of informing but the doing. Writing poetry, to me, is like breathing, walking; I just do it all the time and have been for over fifty years.

In Method acting you learn how to evoke memories with sense memories, emotional memories—your body is your “instrument.” You learn to use your experiences, your memories to evoke emotions, to create belief in the role, belief in yourself; you’re the character.

Acting and poetry are two disparate fields. In acting you can explore, let your emotions go; in poetry you have to learn the tradition, know the craft by practicing it daily, being receptive. Holly once said that the actors are extroverts and the poets are introverts.

In Method acting, you chose an emotion—or it chooses you—or situation that you have experienced and concentrate on an emotional memory that is similar or close to the character’s emotion, what’s going on in the scene: objective correlative. That’s a similarity. Method acting, using my real experiences, is my foundation not only for acting but poetry. Not an external but an internal thing.

In film, there’s the actor, director, editor, writer. In poetry, you have to do it all. Even taking your books to the bookstore and the publicity.

DG: You’ve appeared in over thirty movies and worked with some of the biggest names in Hollywood. What project do you look back on with the fondest memories, and did that particular period also coincide with a strong literary output, or did acting take up every minute? 

HN: Over the Edge (1979). Jonathan Kaplan, the director, came up to me at my first audition, in the outer office, kneeled down beside me and said, “I want you for Sgt. Doberman. You have to go in there with four balls, look at the producer, make him like you, show warmth to him.” I did five auditions. On the last one I had five scenes memorized and plenty of improvisation material ready to use.

George Litto, the producer, gave me a six-week contract to play Sgt. Doberman, the best part I ever had. On location, in Greeley, Colorado, at lunch time, about a week into the picture, George said, “I’m giving you top billing.” That was the only time I ever got top billing in a film. Over the Edge was the first or second film Orion did when it was at Warner Brothers. It became a cult film. It was Matt Dillon’s first picture. My character, Sgt. Doberman, shot and killed Richie (Matt Dillon).

I loved working with Jonathan Kaplan. He’s got great depth, a large emotional range, a strong narrative sense, and strength as a filmmaker. He hired me as an actor 12 times in movies, TV shows, MTV video (“Wild Night,” John Cougar Mellencamp). I still stay in touch with Jonathan.

The cast was great, Dillon, Vincent Spano, Michael Kramer, Pam Ludwig, Andy Romano. Litto liked me. He, Andy, Associate Producer Joe Kapp, and I would eat out together most nights.

My future wife Holly Prado came to Denver and stayed with me for ten days.  She said that was the best vacation she ever had. That was early in our relationship. She helped me a lot with dialogue.

I grew up in Sidney, Nebraska, 165 miles from Denver, so shooting in the Denver area was like I was home. I was 37, 38, so I was in good physical shape for the role.

I always have a notebook with me and I wrote some poems—2 are in my book, the images we possess kill the capturing. I always write poetry, but oftentimes films go down so fast that I channel that creative energy on my character, including sometimes contributing new dialogue.

Harry E. Northup (Sgt. Doberman) in Over the Edge


DG: Starting out, did you sometimes share your writing with those you worked with on set, or did you prefer to keep that aspect of your life separate and private?

HN: When you shoot a movie, it goes down fast, so you have to focus on your part. Also, most people in the movie and TV fields are not into poetry. They don’t know the tradition of poetry, the innovations. There are a few people who are into it. Martin Scorsese came to a publication reading for my second book at The Bridge, on Kenmore, above Hollywood Blvd, in late 1973, or early 1974. After I had read, he said some nice things about my poetry and told me he had a part for me in his next film, Alice Doesn’t Love Here Anymore, which I did. Jonathan Demme liked my poetry and our press, Cahuenga Press. He sent C.P. a check one time for 5 grand. Jonathan Kaplan, also, liked my poetry. Hector Elizondo, who was in my acting class, knows poetry. But, I never worked with him in a film. Later in my life, I met two splendid actors who are also wonderful poets, Michael Lally and S.A. Griffin. They are both erudite about poetry and acting. I never worked as an actor with them, but I have learned about poetry and acting from both of them and value them deeply.

Left to right: Matt Dillon (Richie White), Harry E. Northup (Sgt. Doberman) & Michael Kramer (Carl Willat) in Over the Edge


DG: The poetry you write reflects the raw, gritty material of everyday life and it draws heavily upon blue-collar experiences. Although you did study literature and writing at university, the aspects which make your work unique aren’t often encouraged by professors who teach writing. Why do you feel it’s important for literature to speak on behalf of the so-called “common man,” and what can college instructors do to promote writing which is not only art-affirming, but also life-affirming?

HN: I studied Verse and Structural Grammar with Ann Stanford, at CSUN, where I received my BA in English. She is one of the best poets to come out of LA. She would go down to her studio and write every day. She always liked my poems. Poetry is one person talking to another person. It has nothing to do with status. Obviously, you have to learn the tradition, which I have done, and you have to read and write poetry. Some professors do not hold poetry primary. Poetry and acting are primary with me. It has been said that poetry is praise and affirmation of life.

DG: Do you believe acting and writing can actually be taught, or merely encouraged?

HN: Acting and poetry can be taught, have been taught, and are taught. I am not a teacher. My late wife Holly Prado was a beloved teacher. She had the ability to see the authentic self in the other. Ann Stanford would point out what was good in a poem. The work of Stanislavski at the Moscow Art Theatre, the Group Theatre and the Actors Studio in America are part of the best acting tradition in the 20th century. In Frank Corsaro’s class, the one I was in from 1963-1968, some of my fellow students, and I, all made their living in acting: Harvey Keitel, Hector Elizondo, Salome Jens, Richard Bradford, Christopher Jones, Ralph Waite, Lane Smith, Billy Bush. I love Frank Corsaro. He taught me how to relax, concentrate, how to behave realistically in front of the camera. I think the best American actors studied acting. Studying poetry with Ann Stanford deepened and broadened my understanding of poetry. We had to write the different forms: sestina, villanelle, Petrarchan sonnet, Shakespearean sonnet, ode, syllabics, and so on. 2 poems a week of a particular form for the semester. In college, I was fortunate to have two great, inspiring teachers, one in poetry: Ann Stanford, and one in theatre: Wes Jensby.

DG: If you only had the chance to write one poem in your entire life, which one would that be and why?

HN: My latest book Love Poem To MPTF is one poem. I was the primary caregiver to my wife Holly for many years and LPTM shows my devotion and love for her and hers for me. Plus we both loved, and I love, living at MPTF, which celebrates its 100th Anniversary in 2021. MPTF received the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in 2021. It is the first time that prestigious award was given to an organization.  MPTF has a legacy of giving.  I believe that poetry is grace & grace is giving. Writing that work—it covers two years from July 18, 2017, when we were displaced by an electrical fire—the first poem begins with us living in a motel. It ends on June 14, 2019, in the ICU room at West Hills Hospital where Holly died. After living in the Dunes Motel on Sunset Blvd just west of Western Avenue for 22 nights, Holly and I lived in a room in Phoebe’s and Ron Ozuna’s home in Pasadena for 45 days. On September 25, 2017, we moved into The Villa at the Motion Picture and Television Fund in Woodland Hills, Ca. I was grateful to take care of Holly; it was a privilege. Somehow I feel there is a transcendence in this work—a transcendence of the personal. I like the language in the book. It’s about the last two years of Holly’s life. I just feel blessed to have been with her. Many family members, friends helped us get here and I will always be grateful to them, and to MPTF for inviting us to live here, and to its caring and helpful staff. MPTF is a magnificent place.


DG: Let’s talk about inspiration. Whitman and William Carlos Williams are two names that naturally come to mind, as both are known for their direct, uncompromising style, and the decisiveness with which they portray life as we live it. Indeed, both are great role models, but your biggest inspiration must have been your wife, Holly Prado, whose debut collection, Feasts, the CSULB scholar and poet, Bill Mohr, described as “an experimental book of prose poetry far more audacious and memorable than contemporaneous texts such as Lyn Hejinian’s My Life.” Along with a discussion of both her work and life, can you talk about the ways in which her aesthetic ended up influencing your own?

HN: In a 4-part, 3 hour and 45 minutes documentary that Channel 22 filmed of Holly and me, she said “I love to write. It’s the deepest pleasure I know.” I fell in love with Holly’s poetical, autobiographical, fiction, Feasts, in 1977.  After reading it, I called her, took her—with my son Dylan—a dozen red roses. Holly and I met for lunch, took a walk in a park and began going together. I fell in love with her. We talked poetry morning to night.

Holly wrote. That’s what she did. She did not talk bad about other writers. She quit teaching so she could write. She wanted to write full-time, work part-time. She taught in her, and later, our home for decades. Holly was my love, an inspiration. I would read her poetry that I had written the night before and she was always loving and supportive, nonjudgmental. She was in my poems. Holly put the body in the poem. She had a healthy, sexual vitality in her poetry. She was experimental. She would start a poem with an image. Her rhythms were asymmetrical. Our love was a miracle. I miss her every minute of the day. Once I thanked her for helping me. She said, “You help me more than I help you.”  “We help each other,” I said. Another time I told her, “I’m glad you chose me.” Holly loved American poetry, especially Wallace Stevens. She loved the writers she worked with. She loved Cahuenga Press. She loved my son Dylan.

DG: Over the years, you and your wife worked hard to bring poetry to the forefront of people lives—a formidable challenge everywhere, but perhaps even more so in LA, a city whose poetry she felt “the entire world is blind to,” due to its iconic association “with film, television and music industries,” a fact, that, according to her, forced poets to work in “a kind of vacuum.” It would be interesting to hear about some of the projects, events, and readings you organized together for the sake of poetry.

HN: In 1979, I had a ten-week contract to play Carmine in Used Cars, directed by Robert Zemeckis, in Phoenix, Arizona. During the time I wrote and sent Holly 40 Picture Postcards from Phoenix. On one of them I wrote, “Someday we should do a small press.” In late summer of 1989 I brought the subject of creating a small press up again to Holly. She said yes. I said let’s ask two poets who have had poetry books published and two who haven’t, and let’s have an equal amount of women as men. We decided on Bill Mohr and Phoebe MacAdams, who had books out, Cecilia Woloch, who had not published any books, and James Cushing—I believe Jim had published a chapbook.  We loved and respected them and their poetry. We asked if they would like to be founding members of a small press poetry publishing cooperative. They all said yes. We had our first meeting on September 16, 1989, at Phoebe’s home, on Rowena, in the Los Feliz area. Our first book was Holly’s Specific Mysteries, which got good reviews and sold out.  Holly gave the money she received for sales of the book to Cahuenga Press, which set a precedent. From that moment on, all the money from book sales went into the CP treasury, which helped pay for the next book. To this day, no poet makes any money from book sales.

Bill Mohr and Cecilia Woloch have left the press. We recently asked Jeanette Clough if she would like to be a poet-member of Cahuenga Press and she said yes. We have published 29 poetry books, the last one was my Love Poem to MPTF in late 2020. Tangled Hologram, by James Cushing, will come out next spring. We support each other. We’re all different poets in terms of literary styles. We help each other.

In the LA Times Book Review, on Sunday, April 12, 1987, the Book Editor wrote that the Times would no longer publish reviews of poetry books and would instead publish a poem once in a while. After reading that, which displeased Holly and me, we talked about what we could do. One of us, I believe it was me, came up with the idea of doing a protest in front of the Times building and by Thursday we had called many poets to join us. It seemed like there were about 35 protesters. I had never taken part in a protest before. We made sure we followed the rules. It got a lot of coverage.

In early 1991, as part of the Los Angeles Poetry Festival, I curated an all-day event at Skylight Books, on Vermont Avenue in LA. It was “40 Years of Small Presses in Los Angeles,” that began in the 1950s with “California Quarterly.”  It featured 19 small press editors/publishers who talked, from 10 AM to 8 PM on a Saturday, about their own presses: Beyond Baroque’s many manifestations of its literary magazine, Sunset Palms Hotel, Momentum Press, Invisible City, among others. One day about a week before the event I sent a proposal about the event to the Book Editor at the LA Times. Kenneth Turan happened to be sitting in for the Editor and he liked the idea, called me at home—the first time a big city newspaper editor called me at home—and fulfilled my request for the Times coverage by sending a first-rate journalist, Carolyn See, to cover it. “L.A. Poets: The Meter Is Still Running,” by Carolyn See, LA Times, appeared on the front page of the Book Review, on Feb. 24, 1991. It was the first time a review of a poetry event had been published on the Book Review’s front page. This event was tape recorded by Michael C. Ford.

Holly and I did a lot of readings of “long poems” together. The epic and the “long poem” have long been a passion of mine. Paul Vangelisti put together many of these. I put together an all-day reading of Tom McGrath’s 404-page Letter To An Imaginary Friend to celebrate McGrath’s 100th birthday. 40 poets, actors read at Beyond Baroque.  At MPTF, I curated a presentation of The Bridge, by Hart Crane, in 2018, and one from Leaves of Grass, by Whitman, in 2019. Both of these were presented to celebrate Poetry Month. One time, Holly and I invited 8 poets over to our home on Mariposa in East Hollywood to read out loud H.D.’s Hermetic Definition. Holly made soup; she put out bread, cheese, drinks. I chose the sections for each reader to read, put the reading together. Holly and I always talked things over when I put together poetry events & readings. All of this would not have been possible without the love and passion for poetry of our fellow poets, including Phoebe MacAdams, James Cushing, S.A. Griffin, Richard Modiano, Michael C. Ford, Laurel Ann Bogen. Holly was the main person in all of the readings I put together. She always helped me. People loved her. She was a magnificent leader in poetry. We would never have been able to do this without the extraordinary poets in LA. I have said before that it’s important to have a community of poets so that each poet could go further.

Cahuenga Press poet-members: Standing: Jeanette Clough, James Cushing; sitting: Phoebe MacAdams and Harry E. Northup (photo credit: Ron Ozuna in 2021)


DG: And also your thoughts on the future of the art as well—aside from poetry theaters which will probably never exist, what else can be done to make verse as relevant and immediate to people’s lives as film?

HN: Film is a popular art form; poetry is a more intimate art form. Poetry is the one thing, along with film and acting, outside of my family, that has meaning to me. I find a sense of warmth in reading and writing poetry. I love to keep learning. Film and acting, and poetry have been my passions ever since I was a young adult. It would be nice if people talked about poetry as much as they do film. I don’t see that happening. I helped Aleida Rodriguez get a reading at Beyond Baroque several years ago, when Richard Modiano was the Director. There were only about 14 of us in attendance. Just a poet standing in back of a podium with a microphone in a black painted room with light on her as she read about her entrance into writing when she was a teenager in LA—Aleida & her mother were emigres from Cuba—was transfixing. Poetry is a quiet, elevated form—one person talking to another person—putting the mind on the page the way you actually think, a blessing. The poetry tradition goes back millennia; film is 125 years old. I love poetry and movies. There’s a debate these days about the future of movie theatres; platforms have changed.

When Covid-19 hit, all gatherings and activities were cancelled at MPTF. Jennifer Clymer, Director of Media at MPTF, began doing ZOOM shows four days a week that are streamed on Channel 1390, an on-campus TV channel for the approximately 227 residents & staff. Jennifer asked me to do a one-hour, weekly, poetry show.  Last Tuesday, Sept. 28, 2021, 1-2 PM PST, was the 75th Harry’s Poetry Hour.

DG: What are some places in L.A. where you particularly enjoy reading or listening to others read?

HN: Beyond Baroque, Library Girl Reading Series at the Ruskin Theatre, and Harry’s Poetry Hour, Creative Chaos MPTF, on ZOOM.

In late 1968, or early 1969, when Beyond Baroque opened, I began attending its Friday night readings.  (I was an original member of the free Wednesday night poetry workshop that began in February 1969.  I went for 5, 6 years.)  I have seen readings by Leland Hickman, Robert Peters, Jack Hirschman, Jackson Mac Low, Robert Kelly, Eloise Klein Healy, Holly Prado, Wanda Coleman, Martha Ronk, Diane Wakoski, among many others, there. My first featured reading at Beyond Baroque was with Michael C Ford in 1974. Beyond Baroque is the most important poetry center west of St. Mark’s Church in NYC.

Susan Hayden’s creation of her Library Girl Reading Series at the Ruskin Theatre in Santa Monica, shows how one person can make a significant difference. She has hosted an astonishing array of brilliant poets, prose writers, playwrights, with grace, erudition & generosity. Her series is right up there with Beyond Baroque. Library Girl Reading Series is a blessing!

My third choice is a very personal one: Harry’s Poetry Hour, Creative Chaos MPTF. My purposes in doing a one-hour poetry show every Tuesday, 1-2 PM PST, for the past year and a half have been: 1. To present excellent poetry, including the poetry of Horace, Whitman, Dickinson, H.D., Anna Akhmatova, Robert Frost, William Carlos Williams, Louise Gluck, Gary Snyder, Allen Ginsberg, Ann Stanford, Holly Prado, The Symbolists, Langston Hughes, Phillis Wheatley, Audre Lorde, read by excellent readers who are MPTF residents, including Corinne Conley, Helen Richman, Brett Hadley, John Towey, Valerie Elson, Kay Weissman, Toni Sawyer, & CEO/President of MPTF, Bob Beitcher, & Jennifer Clymer, Director of Media at MPTF; 2. To invite splendid outside poets, including Carol Muske-Dukes, Sharon Doubiago, Alison Townsend, Paul Vangelisti, Bill Mohr, Jim Moore, Michael Lally, Phoebe MacAdams, James Cushing, Cecilia Woloch, S.A. Griffin, Susan Hayden, Pam Ward, Jack Grapes, Ron Koertge, Jack Hirschman, Michael C, Ford, Mark Rhodes, Jamie O’Halloran, Alexis Rhone Fancher, Jim Daniels, John Feins, Doren Robbins, Aram Saroyan, Gail Wronsky, and Sarah Maclay to read their poetry; 3. To keep the tradition alive and to show innovations in poetry; 4. To celebrate the possibilities of poetry.

To build a community through words. To be devoted to poetry. To keep learning. All in all, I am humbled and grateful to Jennifer Clymer for her kind invitation & for all the superlative work that she & the Creative Chaos Team have done to present Harry’s Poetry Hour in such an outstanding way. At least 43 of the 75 shows have been posted on MPTF Studios Harry’s Poetry Hour Youtube.  The content & production values are outstanding. Jennifer Clymer and Bob Beitcher both have a loving support of the Creative. Bob has initiated a number of these poetry shows. They are here to help each one of us residents “extend our creative lives,” as Bob once wrote to me. I am deeply thankful to them, the residents and the poets who have read their poetry on the show.

DG: If you were forced into a situation where lying was the only way to save a person’s life, would you choose an actor or poet as your accomplice, and why?

HN: I believe candor is the way. My dad used to say to me, “You would lie when the truth would serve better.”

Didn’t Plato ban poets, calling them liars? It’s okay to invent in an art form. I believe in candor but breath is necessary to keep living. When I was a young man I wrote I will do anything for my career and I will kill to survive.  Being an actor and a poet, the answer is arbitrary.

DG: Are you writing or working on anything at the moment?

HN: I write every day. My main theme is grief since my wife died a little over two years ago. There have been days when I have said I would give up every work I’ve written if she were still alive. She was my love. She was my protection.

I focus on my experiences. I still believe that it’s important to write about what you see, what you perceive through your senses, what inner visions you receive from the Muse, what your mind tells you, what you imagine. Love and loss are themes, as place is. Just to write a good, clean line. To be receptive and grateful to the Muse is my journey.  Simplicity, empathy, gratitude.

Holly Prado and Harry E. Northup in front of The Villa, MPTF, in 2018


About Harry Northup

Harry Northup is an accomplished actor and poet who has appeared in over thirty films and published twelve collections of poetry, the most recent being Love Poem to MPTF (Cahuenga Press, 2020). He received his BA in English from CSUN where he studied poetry with Ann Stanford. As an actor, his credits include Taxi Driver (1976), Over the Edge (starring role), and The Silence of the Lambs (1991).




Guy Borlée, Coordinator of Bologna’s Film Festival, Il Cinema Ritrovato, interviewed by David Garyan

Ravenna, Italy


Interlitq’s Italian Culture Interview Series

David Garyan Interviews Guy Borlée, Coordinator of Bologna’s Film Festival, Il Cinema Ritrovato



DG: Bologna’s annual film festival, Il Cinema Ritrovato, has been a household name in the city for over thirty years, attracting not just locals but also individuals from all over Italy and Europe. Can you talk about how it all started?

GB: The story really starts thirty-five years, maybe thirty-six years ago: Two young guys from Bologna, Gian Luca Farinelli and Nicola Mazzanti went to Pordenone for the silent film festival and they were fascinated by the atmosphere dedicated to film history, and so they proposed to do something similar in Bologna. Initially, things started on a small scale; only two film archivists were invited to Bologna, from Luxembourg and Munich; they were good friends, and so each one decided to bring their favorite films and most beautiful posters. In Munich, there was Enno Patalas, a great historian, and he came with his best prints of three Ernst Lubitsch comedies while Fred Junck was from Luxembourg and he had an incredible collection of American movies, and so things began with about one hundred spectators and then slowly word started to spread. An important step was in 1994, which is also when I started working for Il Cinema Ritrovato; that year the International Federation of Archives Congress (FIAF) met in Bologna and all the archivists from around the world came to the city; the festival, hence, grew from a simple local gathering to having international dimensions. Throughout the subsequent years the demand for cinemas grew and we now have seven spaces available for use during the day and three for the evening. There was only one open air-screening at Piazza Maggiore twenty years ago and it was like a miracle having the orchestra of the opera house at that time; slowly the event grew—two nights, then one week, eventually two weeks at some point, and now the events runs for two months. Things progressed quite nicely and attendance kept on increasing until, of course, the pandemic.

DG: The festival has grown to be so popular that it has embarked on collaboration projects all across the world—just two notable examples are Brown University and Loyola Marymount in Los Angeles, a city which many consider to be the epicenter of film. Along with dates in the US, the festival has also made stops in Belgium and France. Will we see more such projects in the future?

GB: I hope so. We are open to any proposals—anybody who wants to screen good films at festivals, at a university, or at a film club can write to us and if we have the right titles for them, collaboration is certainly possible. We’ve restored films for many occasions; the range of those projects have included silent classics, such as The Kid by Chaplin, to very rare and splendid Iranian movies like Chess of the Wind—when digital restoration work has been done in the best possible way, it’s really available to anybody, and so the collaboration can happen on a big scale, but we’re also happy to have a screening inside a small university class that wants to learn more about the history of WWII, for example; in fact, we recently co-produced documentary called The Forgotten Front about the topic. Our aim, hence, is to promote cinema heritage among individuals, organizations, and educational institutions.

DG: It’s fair to say, then, that you’re open to working with anybody?

GB: We consider ourselves as part of a world community of cinephiles. We are inspired by the concepts and projects of people working in other countries, such as historians and archivists. We try to gather as many ideas as possible and share what we’ve learned with the world in our own way.

(Il Cinema Ritrovato at AfricaDoc Film Festival in Saint-Louis, Senegal)

DG: Let’s move to logistical issues: The unforeseen outbreak of COVID more than a year ago has drastically altered the dynamics of society—it seems that every aspect of life is affected, from the “essential” activities of commerce right down to the way culture is transmitted. And yet, even before the pandemic, there were surely ever-present difficulties that had to be overcome during the organizational process of a festival like Il Cinema Ritrovato. What are now the additional challenges that will present themselves in addition to those which always had to considered—if authorities allow the festival to proceed?

GB: I would say that in terms of the programming work, things haven’t changed much. If you look at the catalogue of the previous festival and the one before that as well, it’s more or less similar. We managed to keep the same high level of programming quality and cultural diversity; however, we had to reorganize all the spaces to make sure that social distancing guidelines were respected, so for the first time we had to create a booking system—before COVID, you just needed a pass for the week or for the day and you could go anywhere. Now, you have to book your seat and be there in advance—all the while taking extra safety precautions for yourself. We had to do many things very quickly and for the first time, but it worked rather well; it was a big challenge but fortunately our cineteca had the capacity to adapt to the new measures. Also, the open-air screenings were difficult to organize; a lot of our staff had to be involved in the process but we managed to accomplish it and I’m sure many other festivals were able to have success in this respect as well. Had it not been possible for us to organize the event in presence last year, with capable staff that could ensure safety, quality, and security in those circumstances, then the prospect of doing it online would certainly have been there. Many festivals have already organized themselves in this way, allowing those who could otherwise not attend an event in presence to do so online; at the same time, there’s a vast difference between a live, big-screen projection, with the stars above you and the people around you—it’s so much better than watching something alone on your sofa or while eating chips with your family.

DG: We have spoken at length about international developments related to Il Cinema Ritrovato. Can you give readers, along with those contemplating attending the festival, a sneak peak of what they might expect in 2021? Indeed, things can change quickly, but it’s also exciting to look forward—perhaps some possible screenings or well-known personalities that have already been scheduled would be wonderful to know about.

GB: For the guests we really don’t know because we’re not sure if people will be able to travel. What I can say is that as of today we’re in touch with many notable personalities. Usually, we establish communication when we want to restore a film—from directors that are still alive, of course; we do our best, for example, to get in contact to have a restoration approved. We strive to build a relationship from the beginning and maintain it—the premier is naturally always the high-point of this experience, such as when Francis Ford Coppola was here for the screening of Apocalypse Now: Final Cut, so this is the kind of moment that’s really a dream, but I really don’t know what we’ll be able to do this time around. Last year, we had some guests from places like Paris and Berlin, for example. As far as the programming for 2021, we’re working on something substantial, but that’s something we prefer not to announce before the publication of the first newsletter because we have to conduct a press conference beforehand.

DG: A festival like Il Cinema Ritrovato undoubtedly requires a great deal of coordination between people of different skills and backgrounds. It would be intriguing to hear about some of the main actors involved in the organization of the festival and their respective responsibilities, along with your own background and duties. It would also be interesting to know more about the path that eventually led you to become the coordinator of this large festival.

GB: I’m of the opinion that there’s no “school” which can teach you the skills required to organize a festival like Il Cinema Ritrovato or others like it. Usually people pick up these aptitudes best when they’re working directly on the field. In our case, I would say the festival staff is divided in two: Firstly, there are the permanent workers of the cineteca; in this respect, I work with some excellent colleagues and experts in restoration, programming, book archives, video archives, and so on. As you see, we already have a big team on hand year-round. To supplement our expertise, we periodically bring in talented technicians, projectionists, translators, and other experts that are crucial for the organization of the festival. Also, we try our best to involve our young staff, such as students who’ve volunteered to help us in the process, and I’m sure this is no different from what other festivals aim for as well. We try to be both a dynamic and efficient team; having said that, we’re not a very big group, composed of about one hundred individuals; it sounds like a lot but for a large festival, it’s not that much. We manage many theaters and screenings, having screened five hundred films (among which 350 were short) last year. From 9 am till midnight, we screened six or seven different films in different theaters.

DG: What has been the most memorable moment you experienced at Il Cinema Ritrovato?

GB: There are many. The screenings in Piazza Maggiore are always very beautiful, and, most of all, memories of the orchestra from the opera house also come to mind. If you show The Gold Rush, for example, which is a masterpiece, accompanied by music being played by one of the best orchestras in Italy, the moment really becomes very special; when everything blends together perfectly, it’s pure magic. Unfortunately, I end up missing most of these occasions because during the festival I can only watch one or two minutes of the beginning of many events, and then I must run somewhere else in order to manage an issue that needs attention or to resolve a problem at another screening. If I’m able to see just one film from start to finish, it’s already a small miracle. Usually, there are one or two I can catch every year and I consider this the best moment of my own festival experience. I love to go the movies and when I retire within one-hundred years, I would love to remain a real Il Cinema Ritrovato spectator, or also keep on attending festivals organized by others.

DG: I would like to finish with this final question: You’ve discussed the interesting history of how the festival started over thirty years ago—can you tell us how your own journey began in Bologna, and what led you to become the director of this cultural event that so many people treasure?

GB: You may say I was very lucky. I first discovered my passion for cinema in Brussels when I was still a student, at the age of fifteen. There was a film club at my school, the College Don Bosco, and it was run by the students. I became a member—quickly starting to organize screenings of, as I now recall, Pink Floyd’s The Wall and many other interesting titles. I remember us going wild and it was a lot of fun; until now, I have fond memories of those days. What I tried and continue trying to do is keep that spirit alive—the sense of having fun while performing this activity that eventually became my job—precisely the one which allowed me to be part of an even bigger audience that’s experiencing emotions together. After that, I immediately started working for another film club in Brussels; every Sunday morning—there was a screening with complementary coffee and croissant—Les petit déjeuners du Cinéma. That was a lot fun of too—I had to wake up at six o’clock in the morning, but okay. As it happened, I moved to Italy, and shortly thereafter submitted an application to the Cineteca di Bologna—without knowing anybody who worked there. And that’s how it all began—with a job for the FIAF Congress in 1994; the subsequent year, the person doing all the coordination work left and a meeting was held to find a replacement. I had to take my chance—I raised my hand and said a little bit shyly: “Well, I can try to do it, if you want.” In life, you have to try your luck, but also a strong cultural background is fundamental for this type of work, I think. Although my duties these days mostly revolve around technical matters related to organization and communication—ensuring the proper coordination of the festival—I very much believe that having a strong cultural background can only help that process. For example, I try to see in advance a good selection of films from directors we invite so that this doesn’t simply become a “technical” job but a positive experience for my own life.

We hope the festival can still take place between June 26th and July 4th, but given the circumstances we find ourselves in, the event may need to be postponed by one or two months in order to make it happen in presence.

If you are interested, the easiest way to stay informed is sign up for our newsletter.

And if you are in Italy, you can follow a wonderful program of restored films called Il Cinema Ritrovato Fuori Sala on the platform MYmovies.


About Guy Borlée

Guy Borlée has served as the coordinator of Bologna’s Il Cinema Ritrovato since 1994. He lectures regularly on film, festival programming and development at FIAF conferences throughout the world and universities as well. Borlée has also coordinated the Sotto le Stelle del Cinema (Under the Stars of Cinema) which presents classic films in an open-air environment at Piazza Maggiore, the main square of Bologna.


Rainer Werner Fassbinder (por Hayrabet Alacahan)

Rainer Werner Fassbinder


Rainer Werner Fassbinder y su obra
Imprescindibles, vanguardistas, inimitables…
ambos sobrevivirán a cualquier apocalipsis…

Rainer Werner Fassbinder, director (44), guionista (50), actor (43), montajista (18), director de fotografía (3) y productor (12), supo crear y armó un mundo tan peculiar como sí mismo.

Casi tres meses antes del término de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, en el seno de una familia burguesa, de madre traductora y padre médico, nacía el 31 de mayo de 1945, en Bad Wörishofen, Baviera, Alemania.

Desde la separación de sus padres, cuando él tenía seis años, quedó con su madre, Liselotte Irmgard Pempeit (nombre de soltera) que llegó actuar en varias películas de su hijo. En otras ocasiones convivió con su abuela.

Su particular interés hacia el cine y el teatro lo sedujo desde su adolescencia, actividades en las que no tardaría en involucrarse con todo entusiasmo. Este joven despeinado, inconforme y rebelde venía elaborando una intuición creativa y artística como pocos.

A mediados de los sesenta empezó estudiar teatro en el Fridl-Leonhard Studio en Munich y se relacionó con el elenco de Action Theater que luego pasó a denominarse Anti-Theatre, en 1967 (ese período merece una nota aparte por su intensidad).

Entre 1966 y 1982 llegó a concretar 44 proyectos cinematográficos (41 largometrajes y 3 cortos), donde trató de reflejar todos los problemas sociales de la Alemania de post guerra: inmigrantes, lúmpenes, patrones, comerciantes,  burguesía, clase obrera, intelectuales y medios de comunicación. Sus argumentos trataban sin eufemismos y sin finales felices cuestiones centradas en drogas, alcohol, gays, lesbianas y homosexuales, mostrados en toda su filmografía con mucho respeto y delicadeza, jamás con la intención de hacer un cine gay.

Su cuantiosa obra, cargada de una absoluta libertad que le valió la reputación de ser el enfant terrible del Nuevo Cine Alemán, corriente de la que formaba parte de los principales integrantes, involucraba una vida desprolija combinada con su estética sin horarios, más vivencias nocturnas que diurnas, cruces de sexo con cócteles de drogas que, curiosamente, no se notaban en su ritmo y ética laboral, impecables a la hora de trabajar.

Cuando leyó por primera vez la novela Berlin Alexanderplatz de Alfred Döblin (1878-1957), no le gustó para nada la historia. Pero años más tarde cambió de opinión y quiso llevarla a la pantalla. Inclusive se hizo llamar por un período largo Franz Biberkopf como el principal personaje de la novela.

En 1980 presentó su tele film de 14 episodios “Berlin Alexanderplatz”. Una obra maestra absoluta. Hoy, la mayoría de las series que abundan conceptuadas como muy buenas, no llegan ni a los talones de este semejante e insuperable trabajo audiovisual.

Después de su muerte, en varios documentales y en otros tantos libros encontraremos entrevistas a los actores y actrices que tienen testimonios inquietantes con sus pro y contras, pero absolutamente todos se sienten orgullosos de haber sido dirigidos por él, entre ellos: Hanna Schygulla, Günther Kaufmann, Kurt Raab, Irm Hermann, El Hedi Ben Salem, Armin Meier, Ingrid Caven, Peter Chatel, Peer Raben,  Gottfried John, Ulli Lommel, Udo Kier, Harry Baer, Volker Spengler, Margit Carstensen, Brigitte Mira, Vitus Zeplichal, Barbara Valentin y su madre Liselotte Irmgard Pempeit que aparece con seudónimo como Lilo Pempeit.

Cada vez que actuábamos juntos era algo sumamente físico: él me jala, me hace volar en sus brazos, me rechaza, me derriba, me pone de rodillas, sus ojos en mis ojos hasta la eternidad; o al contrario, cada uno mirando para su lado, perdidos en la lejanía… Todo un alfabeto indirecto de gestos de amor”.  Hanna Schygulla

Fassbinder en su experiencia en el mundo teatral (entre 1967 y 1976 escribió 21 obras y dirigió 12 ) llegó a crear y desarrollar una compañía que integraban sus dos esposas, amantes de ambos sexos, su madre y varios de los citados arriba.

Él mismo actuó en varias de sus películas, incluyendo papeles protagónicos y con frecuencia no aparecía en los créditos. Como actor interpretó diferentes personajes en 43 películas bajo la dirección de Volker Schlöndorff, Douglas Sirk, Wolf Gremm, Ulli Lommel, Daniel Schmid, Peer Raben, Reinhard Hauff, entre otros.

Lo vi actuar por primera vez en Anarquía en Baviera. Todo el grupo Anti-Theatre me agradó. Era un conjunto que actuaba y se expresaba distinto de lo que se veía en otras obras teatrales. Era el cine en el escenario. Después de la función nos llevó para que viéramos su primera película “Liebe Ist Kälter Als Der tod / El amor es más frío que la muerte”. Todo el grupo estaba presente en la sala y en la pantalla. Lo que más me interesó no fue su manera de filmar, sino sus compañeros, el modo en que hablaban. Yo ya había estado cinco años en Munich y había viajado bastante por el país, pero gente como ésa no había conocida antes. ¿Eran artistas bohemios, pequeños burgueses, criminales, proletarios? ¿De dónde salieron todos a la vez y tan ávidos? ¿Cómo hizo para encontrarlos?  Volker Schlöndorff

Era hábil y capaz para producir tanto sus obras teatrales como sus películas, rápidamente y con presupuestos extremadamente bajos.

Creo que este grupo humano giraba, como los planetas alrededor del sol, en torno de este potente, turbulento, explosivo director. Él era como el centro de un sistema solar y ellos poniendo su mayor creatividad actoral y técnico ante sus indicaciones, ideas, propuestas y pedidos. En el mundo del cine es el único caso con tantas personas contradictorias entre sí, implicadas en un proyecto durante casi 15 años.

En 1970 se casó con la actriz y cantante Ingrid Caven y se divorciaron en 1972. La segunda vez, en 1979, se casó con la montajista Juliane Lorenz, quien preside la Rainer Werner Fassbinder Foundation desde 1992. Entidad que fue creada en 1986 por Liselotte Pempeit, madre de Fassbinder.

A pesar de sus dos casamientos, Fassbinder tenía relaciones con personas de ambos sexos y sin ningún prejuicio. Algunas de sus relaciones fueron muy tempestuosas. Algunos datos aseguran que dos hombres se suicidaron por amor a él.

Trabajó casi siempre con dos excelentes directores de fotografía: Michael Ballhaus y Xaver Schwarzenberger. Estos dos magos fueron extraordinarios ante las exigencias de un director sin concesiones.

Su admiración por Douglas Sirk (1897-1987) era ferviente, amaba su obra. Fue a conocerlo personalmente a Suiza, esa visita terminó en una amistad. Inclusive fue actor en el último corto de su maestro “Bourbon Street Blues” (1978).

A partir de las conversaciones con Douglas Sirk, surgieron las influencias y Fassbinder cambió mucho respecto de su primera etapa más artística influenciada por la Nouvelle Vague. Comprendió que necesitaba del espectador y no dudó salir en busca del público.

El día que murió Fassbinder yo perdí un amigo y Alemania ha perdido a un genio.

Su energía creativa y su vitalidad parecían indestructibles. Un constante flujo de películas y obras. Recuerdo el día en que conocí a Fassbinder hace doce años. Un grupo de jóvenes alemanes llegaron a mi casa en Lugano, Suiza. A modo de presentación dijo, “soy Fassbinder y un par de amigos”. Mi señora y yo tenemos recuerdos inolvidables de aquel encuentro. Hablamos de arte y literatura, de teatro y cine hasta altas horas de la noche. En algún momento yo mencioné el teatro clásico español y la extraordinaria productividad de Calderón de la Barca y Lope de Vega. Fassbinder de repente dijo: “Me gustaría ser tan prolífico como ellos”.

Por lo que sabemos, sus palabras no fueron solo una expresión de deseo. Este director de 37 años de edad nos ha dejado una increíble herencia de más de cuarenta películas. Su talento creativo, sin precedentes en la historia del cine, no encontró inmediatamente la aprobación que merecía. Las películas de Fassbinder se han considerado polémicas durante mucho tiempo y espero que sigan siendo así en el futuro, porque solo algo que puede sobrevivir al antagonismo tiene la fuerza de perdurar en el tiempo”.  Douglas Sirk

Su primer largometraje, “El amor es más frío que la muerte” (1969) fue recibido con gran ovación en el Festival de Cine de Berlín. “Katzelmacher” (1969) obtuvo cinco premios después de su estreno en Mannheim. El film giraba alrededor de  Jorgos, un inmigrante griego, involucrado con un grupo de vagos y tendenciosos xenófobos al mudarse a un barrio habitado por alemanes. Este contexto social, con personajes alienados y dominados por la opresión social, iba ser muy visible en la obra posterior del cineasta.

Curiosamente, justo antes de concretar estas dos películas, había decidido estudiar cine en la Escuela de Cine y Televisión de Múnich, que había comenzado la actividad educativa ese mismo año, 1967. Como no pudo aprobar el examen previo fue rechazado como alumno. Wim Wenders, otro cineasta alemán muy singular, que sí había logrado su ingreso a la misma escuela el mismo año, recordaba con asombro que seis meses después, mientras él seguía estudiando, Fassbinder ya había filmado sus primeras dos películas.

Te vi por última vez  durante el Festival de Cannes en mayo de 1982. Nos encontramos en el bar del Hotel Martínez, estabas pálido y bastante agotado.

Te hablé de la idea como a otros directores, que había montado una cámara en una habitación del hotel, donde cada cineasta individualmente diera su opinión sobre el futuro del cine. Luego vos con el cuestionario subiste a la habitación. Tu testimonio lo vi recién unos días después. Y cuando más tarde compaginé “Chambre 666”, ya habías fallecido. Pasaron 10 años desde tu muerte y desde entonces, todos vivimos esa pérdida que no quiere mermar, al contrario, también extrañamos las películas que hubieras rodado en ese lapso”.  Wim Wenders

Luego vendrían “Pioniere en Ingolstadt” (1971) y “Whity” (1971). Con “El frutero de las cuatro estaciones” (1972) logró un gran éxito inesperado, donde narra el patético retrato de un vendedor ambulante de frutas sin autoestima. Sumada su incapacidad de liberarse del dominio de su madre a la frialdad y celosía de su mujer, intenta ocultar su debilidad en el alcohol.

Angustia corroe el alma” (1974) fue otro éxito a nivel internacional. Fassbinder logra con magnificencia una historia de amor entre Emmi, una mujer viuda de 60 años y Ali, un inmigrante marroquí de 35 años. Se conocen por azar, se enamoran y se casan. La unión no convencional de la pareja produce un espantoso rechazo en su entorno familiar, amistoso y laboral. Unido a esto los prejuicios y el racismo que venía arrastrando la sociedad alemana de post guerra como el resto del mundo. Notable remake del film de Douglas Sirk, “All Heavens Allows” (1955) y una de las películas más conmovedoras de Fassbinder, con la extraordinaria actuación de Brigitte Mira (1910-2005).

Más tarde llegaría con inusual éxito “El matrimonio de María Braun” (1979), la historia relata el casamiento de una pareja en un momento muy hostil de la guerra, al poco tiempo él será enviado al frente de batalla y más tarde aparecerá en la lista de desaparecidos. Ella deberá sobrevivir entre bombas, ruinas, el mercado negro y la prostitución. De un breve amorío, quedará embarazada de un soldado norteamericano pero sin dejar de añorar a su esposo, esperando su regreso algún día.

Y así, desde “El amor es más frío que la muerte” (1969) comenzó a forjar un camino sin pausa e incontenible, hasta su última y magnífica “Querelle” (1982), basada en la novela Querelle de Brest del autor francés Jean Genet.

El argumento se nutre del personaje, un marinero llamado Georges Querelle, poseedor de una personalidad de atractivo irresistible sobre las personas que cruzan su camino, a quienes va sometiendo por su poder de fascinación y de seducción.

Ideó, creó y dirigió siempre acompañado por la mayoría del elenco del Anti-Theatre. Fue un artista, dueño de una mirada vibrante, de una intuición con la que atrapaba e impregnaba con emulsiones las emociones en todas sus magnitudes.

Creo yo, para comprender la idiosincrasia de Fassbinder y de sus películas, es imprescindible ver al menos una docena de ellas, logradas con una sensibilidad que no es la cualidad de muchos cineastas. Recomiendo algunas de ellas con su sello inconfundible: “Dioses de la peste” (1969), “El por qué de la funesta locura del Sr. R” (1969), “El soldado americano” (1970), “Atención a esa prostituta tan querida” (1970), ”La libertad de Bremen” (1972), “El frutero de las cuatro estaciones” (1972), “Las amargas lágrimas de Petra von Kant” (1972), “Nora Helmer” (1973), “Martha” (1973), “Angustia corroe el alma”, “Effie Briest” (1974) “La ley del más fuerte” (1975), “Viaje a la felicidad de Mama Küsters” (1975), “Miedo al miedo” (1975, “El asado de Satán” (1976), “La ruleta china” (1976), “Solo quiero que me amen”  (1976), “Bolwieser” (1978), “En un año con trece lunas” (1978), “Desesperación” (1978), “La tercera generación” (1979), “Berlin Alexanderplatz”, “Lili Marleen” (1981), “Lola” (1981), “La ansiedad de Veronika Voss” (1982), “Querelle” (1982), entre otras.

Fassbinder sigue siendo el más grande director de cine germano. Cuando Alemania necesitaba películas para encontrarse a sí misma, allí estaba él. Ni siquiera los filmes de la nouvelle vague lograron otorgarle tanta presencia a Francia como Fassbinder supo darle a la Alemania de posguerra”.

—Jean-Luc Godard

Fassbinder filmó por toda Alemania, con una trayectoria cinematográfica muy valiosa y con un repaso exhaustivo de su país: sus problemas políticos, económicos y culturales, los desgastes ocasionados por la guerra, su porvenir, su historia, su sociedad, y la desazón del tiempo del que le tocó ser testigo.

Con Fassbinder nace el cine alemán de posguerra”, supone una visión profunda de lo que implicó la aparición del cineasta”.

—Henri Langlois

Mientras sus películas eran aclamadas y premiadas y su nombre circulaba entre los grandes del cine internacional, en su país no era tan popular ni querido. Era criticado y desmerecido por la sociedad alemana a raíz de sus argumentos duros con finales amargos. Ante estas reacciones, Fassbinder defendía su postura con mucha coherencia y sin temblar, ”Yo filmo lo que veo de la sociedad, lo que debe cambiar es la sociedad, no tendría sentido que yo disfrazara la realidad”.

Creo que era lo más provocador que podía hacer en una época en la que los alemanes querían borrar y lavar los muros. En lugar de eso Fassbinder les obligó a mirar los muros y las pintadas que había sobre ellos como si fueran los muros de una prisión”. Liliana Cavani

Fue uno de los directores que supo aprovechar muy bien el género melodramático, que se identifica por los derroches estilísticos, existenciales y susceptibles, donde Fassbinder sabía crear mundos extraordinarios con escenografías relucientes y expresivas bajo estallidos de colores.

Su legado fílmico demuestra una profunda sensibilidad hacia las clases más golpeadas socialmente: los trabajadores y los inmigrantes. Nunca disimuló su odio a la violencia institucionalizada.

Para despejar todas las dudas sobre su personalidad e ideología es imprescindible leer el libro Fassbinder por Fassbinder (un compilado de entrevistas completas de 1973 a 1982), editado por El cuenco de plata en 2018, Buenos Aires, Argentina, con el apoyo del Goethe Institut.

Sin descontar méritos a otros libros sobre Fassbinder, en este seremos testigos de sus pensamientos en vivo: en todas las entrevistas realizadas por distintos medios y periodistas, ante las mismas preguntas, sus respuestas van en la misma línea.

En la noche cuando apareció muerto en su departamento, muy cerca suyo encontraron un guión de una versión de Rosa Luxemburgo. No paraba de producir, ni en el momento de su muerte.

A los 10 días de haber cumplido los 37 años Rainer Werner Fassbinder murió por un paro cardíaco, ocasionado por interacción de somníferos y cocaína, el 10 de junio de 1982, en  Munich, Baviera, Alemania Occidental. Está enterrado en el cementerio de la Iglesia de San Jorge, Bogenhausen, Munich.

Hasta donde llega mi conocimiento y mi admiración por Fassbinder, siempre sostuve que la muerte de él no tiene ni parecido con la muerte de otros mortales. Para mí él era un volcán en permanente erupción dentro de su cuerpo, a la que su piel no pudo contener… y estalló.


Biografía – Hayrabet Alacahan

Hayrabet Alacahan nació en Armenia. Vivió su niñez y adolescencia en Estambul y en 1970 se radicó en Buenos Aires. Un apasionado del séptimo arte desde su infancia. Descubrió que el cine sería su mundo al hacerse socio del Cine Club Buenos Ayres en 1979. Tres meses después ya era un integrante más en la misma entidad. Abandonó su trabajo como dibujante de planos para dedicarse de lleno al mundo del cine. Su archivo personal reún datos sobre 100000 películas, 14000 biografías de directores y actores, una biblioteca de cine con 5000 libros, alrededor de 6000 afiches, 8000 fotos, 6000 diapositivas, casi 14000 títulos en formato digital y más de 2.000 títulos fílmicos en todos los géneros.



“Desde la Trinchera” con José Cohen. Director y fundador de Cactus film and vídeo (por Yamila Musa)


Entrevistado por Yamila Musa


Jose Cohen established Cactus Film and Video in 1996. Since then Cactus has provided production services, ENG crews and equipment for domestic and international television networks, the production of documentaries, short films, commercials, corporate videos and video clips. Cactus offers the perfect platform for international networks and broadcasters to meet all their personnel and technical needs in Mexico.


Yamila Musa


Yamila Musa nació en Villa María, ciudad de la provincia de Córdoba. Con sólo tres años, comenzó su formación en Declamación y Arte Escénico. Esto la llevó a proyectarse en la comunicación integral, por lo cual concretó sus estudios de Licenciada en Comunicación en la Universidad Nacional de Córdoba. Al finalizar su carrera universitaria se trasladó a la Capital Federal en búsqueda de nuevas oportunidades. Realizó diversos trabajos relacionados al sector de la cultura, entre ellos como Directora de Producción de la Película “La Invención de Borges” del Director francés Nicolás Azalbert. Actualmente es Periodista & editora de la revista The International Literary Quarterly,  y colaboradora de la Fundación Cineteca Vida.

Video/ Prof. Dr. Sabine Wilke on “Landscape in Literature, Art, and Film”

Video/ Prof. Dr. Sabine Wilke on “Landscape in Literature, Art, and Film”

Sabine Wilke’s research and teaching interests include modern German literature and culture, intellectual history and theory, and cultural and visual studies. She has written books and articles on body constructions in modern German literature and culture, German unification, the history of German film and theater, and much more.