Why do I make art? To build time capsules for my heritage | Kayla Briët

Prevoditelj: Igor Smontara Recezent: Sanda L

When I was four years old,

Kada sam imala četiri godine,

my dad taught me the Taos Pueblo Hoop Dance,

moj otac me naučio Taos Pueblo plesu s obručima,

a traditional dance born hundreds of years ago in Southwestern USA.

tradicionalnom plesu nastalom prije više stotina godina na jugozapadu SAD-a.

A series of hoops are created out of willow wood,

Niz obruča izrađeno je od vrbinog drva,

and they're threaded together to create formations of the natural world,

isprepletenih međusobno tako da tvore oblike prirodnog svijeta,

showing the many beauties of life.

prikazujući mnoge ljepote života.

In this dance, you're circling in a constant spin,

U tom plesu krećete se u stalnoj rotaciji,

mimicking the movement of the Sun

oponašajući kretanje Sunca

and the passage of time.

i prolazak vremena.

Watching this dance was magic to me.

Gledanje ovog plesa bilo je magično za mene.

Like with a time capsule,

Kao i kod vremenske kapsule,

I was taking a look through a cultural window to the past.

gledala sam kroz kulturni prozor u prošlost.

I felt a deeper connection

Osjetila sam dublju povezanost

to how my ancestors used to look at the world around them.

s time kako su moji preci nekad gledali na svijet oko sebe.

Since then, I've always been obsessed with time capsules.

Od tada sam uvijek bila opsjednuta vremenskim kapsulama.

They take on many forms,

Ima ih u raznim oblicima,

but the common thread is that they're uncontrollably fascinating

ali zajednička im je nit da su nekontrolirano fascinantne

to us as human beings,

nama kao ljudskim bićima,

because they're portals to a memory,

zato jer su portali prema sjećanjima

and they hold the important power of keeping stories alive.

i imaju važnu moć održavanja priče živima.

As a filmmaker and composer,

Kao redateljica i skladateljica,

it's been my journey to find my voice,

moj put je bio da pronađem svoj glas,

reclaim the stories of my heritage and the past

obnoviti priče svoje baštine i prošlosti

and infuse them into music and film time capsules to share.

i uključiti ih u glazbene i filmske vremenske kapsule koje ću dalje dijeliti.

To tell you a bit about how I found my voice,

Kako bih vam rekla kako sam pronašla svoj glas,

I'd like to share a bit about how I grew up.

želim vam reći malo o tome kako sam odrasla.

In Southern California, I grew up in a multigenerational home,

Odrasla sam u Južnoj Kaliforniji, u obitelji gdje je bilo više generacija,

meaning I lived under the same roof

što znači da sam živjela pod istim krovom

as my parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents.

sa svojim roditeljima, tetama, stričevima, bakama i djedovima.

My mother is Dutch-Indonesian and Chinese with immigrant parents,

Moja majka je nizozemsko-indonezijskih i kineskih korijena, roditelja imigranata,

and my father is Ojibwe

a moj otac je Ojibwe

and an enrolled tribal member

i upisani plemenski član

of the Prairie Band's Potawatomi Tribe in Northeastern Kansas.

plemena Prairie Band's Potawatomi u sjeveroistočnom Kansasu.

So one weekend I'd be learning how to fold dumplings,

Tako bih jednog vikenda učila kako raditi okruglice od tijesta,

and the next, I'd be traditional-style dancing

a sljedećeg bih plesala tradicionalni ples

at a powwow,

na svečanosti,

immersed in the powerful sounds of drums and singers.

uronjena u moćne zvukove bubnjeva i pjevača.

Being surrounded by many cultures was the norm,

Biti okružena mnogim kulturama bilo je norma,

but also a very confusing experience.

ali i vrlo zbunjujuće iskustvo.

It was really hard for me to find my voice,

Bilo mi je stvarno teško pronaći svoj glas,

because I never felt I was enough --

jer nikada nisam osjećala da sam dovoljno...

never Chinese, Dutch-Indonesian or Native enough.

Kineskinja, nizozemska Indonežanka ili domorotkinja.

Because I never felt I was a part of any community,

Budući nikada nisam osjećala da sam dio bilo koje zajednice,

I sought to learn the stories of my heritage

krenula sam učiti priče svoje baštine

and connect them together to rediscover my own.

i povezati ih zajedno kako bih otkrila svoje.

The first medium I felt gave me a voice was music.

Prvi medij kojeg sam osjetila da mi je dao glas bila je glazba.

With layers of sounds and multiple instruments,

Kroz slojeve zvukova i raznih instrumenata,

I could create soundscapes and worlds that were much bigger than my own.

mogla sam stvoriti zvukovlja i svjetove mnogo veće od svog vlastitog.

Through music, I'm inviting you into a sonic portal

Kroz glazbu, pozivam vas u sonični portal

of my memories and emotions,

svojih uspomena i osjećaja,

and I'm holding up a mirror to yours.

i držim vam ogledalo prema vašim vlastitim.

One of my favorite instruments to play is the guzheng zither,

Jedan od mojih omiljenih instrumenata je citra guzheng,

a Chinese harp-like instrument.

kineski instrument sličan harfi.

While the hoop dance is hundreds of years old,

I dok je ples s obručima star stotine godina,

the guzheng has more than 2,000 years of history.

guzheng ima povijest staru više od 2,000 godina.

I'm playing the styles that greatly influence me today,

Sviram stilovima koji uvelike utječu na mene danas,

like electronic music,

kao što je elektronska glazba,

with an instrument that was used to play traditional folk music long ago.

instrumentom koji je davno korišten za sviranje tradicionalne glazbe.

And I noticed an interesting connection:

I primjetila sam zanimljivu poveznicu:

the zither is tuned to the pentatonic scale,

citra je podešena prema pentatonskoj ljestvici,

a scale that is universally known in so many parts of music

ljestvici koja je univerzalno poznata u tolikim dijelovima glazbe

around the world,

širom svijeta,

including Native American folk songs.

uključujući i američke domorodačke narodne pjesme.

In both Chinese and Native folk,

Kod oba naroda, kineskog i domorodačkog,

I sense this inherent sound of longing and holding onto the past,

osjećam ovaj zvuk čežnje i držanja za prošlost,

an emotion that greatly drives the music I create today.

emocija koja uvelike potiče glazbu koju stvaram danas.

At the time, I wondered if I could make this feeling of immersion

Ponekad sam se pitala mogu li stvoriti ovaj osjećaj uranjanja

even more powerful,

čak još jačim,

by layering visuals and music --

slaganjem slojeva vizualnog i glazbe --

visuals and images on top of the music.

vizualnog i slikovnog povrh same glazbe.

So I turned to internet tutorials to learn editing software,

Tako sam na internetu krenula učiti programe za uređivanje,

went to community college to save money

krenula na javni fakultet kako bih uštedjela novac

and created films.

i stvarala filmove.

Nakon nekoliko godina eksperimentiranja,

After a few years experimenting,

I was 17 and had something I wanted to tell and preserve.

imala sam 17 godina i nešto što sam htjela pokazati i sačuvati.

It started with a question:

Počela sam pitanjem:

What happens when a story is forgotten?

Što se dogodi kada se priča zaboravi?

I lead with this in my latest documentary film,

Time počinjem u svom najnovijem dokumentarnom filmu,

"Smoke That Travels,"

"Dim koji putuje",

which immerses people into the world of music, song, color and dance,

koji uranja ljude u svijet glazbe, pjesme, boja i plesa,

as I explore my fear that a part of my identity, my Native heritage,

dok istražujem svoj strah, da će dio mog identiteta, moje domorodačke baštine,

will be forgotten in time.

biti zaboravljen u vremenu.

Many indigenous languages are dying due to historically forced assimilation.

Mnogi autohtoni jezici umiru zbog povijesno prisilne asimilacije.

From the late 1800s to the early 1970s,

Od kasnih 1800-tih do ranih 1970-ih,

Natives were forced into boarding schools,

domoroci su bili prisiljeni ići u internate,

where they were violently punished if they practiced traditional ways

gdje su bili nasilno kažnjavani ako su prakticirali svoju tradiciju,

or spoke their native language,

ili govorili svojim materinjim jezikom,

most of which were orally passed down.

koji je većinom prenašan usmenim putem.

As of now, there are 567 federally recognized tribes in the United States,

Trenutno je u Sjedinjenim Državama 567 savezno priznatih plemena,

when there used to be countless more.

dok ih je nekad bilo nebrojeno više.

In my father's words,

Riječima mog oca,

"Being Native is not about wearing long hair in braids.

"Biti domorodac ne znači nositi dugu kosu u pletenicama.

It's not about feathers or beadwork.

Nije stvar u perju ili perlicama.

It's about the way we all center ourselves in the world as human beings."

Radi se o načinu na koji smo svi u centru svijeta kao ljudska bića."

After traveling with this film for over a year,

Nakon putovanja s ovim filmom više od godinu dana,

I met indigenous people from around the world,

upoznavala sam domoroce posvuda,

from the Ainu of Japan,

od Ainu iz Japana,

Sami of Scandinavia,

Sami iz Skandinavije,

the Maori

Maora

and many more.

i mnogih drugih.

And they were all dealing with the exact same struggle

I svi su bili suočeni s potpuno istom borbom

to preserve their language and culture.

za očuvanje svog jezika i kulture.

At this moment, I not only realize the power storytelling has

Ovog trena, shvaćam ne samo moć pripovijedanja,

to connect all of us as human beings

kako bismo se povezali kao ljudska bića,

but the responsibility that comes with this power.

već i odgovornost koja dolazi uz tu moć.

It can become incredibly dangerous when our stories are rewritten or ignored,

Može postati nevjerojatno opasno kada se naše priče prepisuju ili ignoriraju,

because when we are denied identity,

jer kada nam je uskraćen identitet,

we become invisible.

postajemo nevidljivi.

We're all storytellers.

Svi smo mi pripovjedači.

Reclaiming our narratives and just listening to each other's

Vraćanje vlastitih priča i samo slušanje jedni drugih,

can create a portal that can transcend time itself.

može stvoriti portal koji može nadići i samo vrijeme.

Thank you.

Hvala Vam.

(Applause)

(Pljesak)