In October, we introduced you to Toronto filmmaker
Stephanie Weimar and her new project WRITING THE LAND (produced by Primitive Entertainment for CBC Arts and Arte/ZDF) in our series "The Making of" that follows two German-Canadian film projects over one year. Now we're checking in with the team to hear about their latest travel, new writing that has emerged, and an editing road map.
Dear Stephanie, in our last conversation you mentioned that you were looking forward to seeing how the subject matter of your film interweaves – the land and the writing.
Can you let us in on one of these, literally, story-telling and story-making encounters you had with a Canadian writer?
It’s all very exciting. So far we have visited with eight writers, most recently we spent two days with Esi Edugyan ("Half Blood Blues" and "Washington Black") and another two with Joshua Whitehead in Calgary ("Full-Metal Indigiqueer: Poems" and "Jonny Appleseed"). As we’re gathering more content, more stories, I can see each episode taking shape, which is always a thrilling experience. When a project, which previously had only been a vision in my head, actually comes into being.
There’s also always an element of relief, when an idea actually “works out” and begins to translate into real footage and sequences with emotional depth that add up to a narrative. A process every filmmaker can probably relate to.
Visiting Joshua in Calgary was a very special treat. He is just such an incredible writer and storyteller. Before our visit we had spoken a few times on the phone to plan our shoot. Joshua mentioned that he lived close to the Dover Hills, an area that is very dear to his heart and that he suggested we film at. Little did I know that I was in for a major revelation as to how stunning these hills truly are! Situated to the east of downtown Calgary the Dover Hills are a thin band of grasslands stretching alongside the Deerfoot Trail highway, one of Calgary’s major arteries. The view is just spectacular. With the city’s skyline edged against the dramatic Alberta skies, the Bow River and the Rocky Mountains beyond, it’s easy to see how this spot is one of Joshua’s favourites, a place that provides inspiration, solace and comfort all at once.
Joshua is working on a new book tentatively titled "Making Love with the Land," a hybrid form of
nehiyaw (Cree) storytelling that includes poetry, fiction, and personal essays on ways of reading the land from a queer Indigenous perspective. Joshua was talking to us about how “all the land is holding story, it is an archive, a library” and how he himself sees his task as an
otâcimow, a storyteller:
“Everything is story. The land itself is the ultimate story. As an
otâcimow I’m giving the truth in the best way that I can and that’s also a responsibility I have as a two-spirit person. That’s what I was gifted and that is what I can give back – story. And hopefully people will see themselves in those stories and feel redeemed and empowered. Stories validate and stories change history.”
Joshua graciously gave us permission to include a few lines of his new book here, which specifically mention the Dover Hills:
“I’m sitting on the Hills of Dover, a space I rely on too heavily these days. The afternoon sun licks my shoulders. Masseuse to the marks that stretch from the child me who still fits inside and I have only just begun to find them again, that wild ancestral dream. People walk by me, staring. There I sit alone, barefoot, feet stroking the prairie grass and thistles. Pricks not knowing the width of my soles. I cannot be harmed in this moment.”
What’s next in terms of trips and author encounters? What’s next in terms of the process of making the film?
I’m currently planning the last four shoots and I’ve also just begun the paper edit. Reading transcripts, selecting lines and creating a narrative flow for each episode before the editor begins to string together actual shots on a timeline. It’s like building up a skeleton and one of my favourite stages of a work on a project.
interview by
@JuttaBrendemuhl
photo: Joshua Whitehead, reading. courtesy S. Weimar
