生产 | 在诘问的十字路口:玛丽·瓦涅Marie Voignier谈“在中国”
For Eng pls scoll down
从2017年底开始,玛丽·瓦涅先后四次来到广州进行研究、采访和拍摄,最终在2019年初完成了作品《在中国》的拍摄。影片是时代美术馆展览“慢进?我们如何共处”(详情点击此处)和“一路向南” (详情点击此处)驻地研究项目的共同委任创作,还受到卡蒂斯特基金会,法国驻广州总领事馆,法国文化网、法国文化中心、法国国家电影与动画中心、法国国家造型艺术中心、Bilboquet电影等机构的支持。作品目前也同时在2019年新加坡双年展中展出。
比利安娜·思瑞克(以下简称BC):最初关于做一些关于广州非洲群体的想法在我们第一次见面时埋下了种子,那是2015 年的一次工作室拜访。你在开始这个项目之前有什么特别的考量吗?
BC:你是如何对非洲女性商人产生兴趣的?在你关于研究探访中这种兴趣又是如何发展的?
《在中国》拍摄花絮,2019年1月,广州
摄影:方之予BC:你在不同的本地语境中工作过,也在之前的影片中遇到了种种困难。你在中国遇到了怎样的困难呢?
BC:你花了两年时间和影片中的人物建立关系。你可以解释一下你开展这个项目的模式吗?
BC:影片不经意地记录了商品的移动,最终在一批运向非洲的货物中结束。你如何在影片中建构不同的叙事层次?
蔡俏凌:某种程度上,你的作品让你更随意并且可以快速适应某种情境。最开始你想找一个说伊博语的尼日利亚女性,但是我们只找到了Stephanie,一个尼日利亚裔美国女性,她有自己的美发店并且在幼儿园教课。你决定让Stephanie扮演她自己。我们在批发市场的商店里遇到卖家在用三脚架上的手机直播,这些卖家每天在淘宝上试衣服和粉丝互动进行数百笔交易,你也决定把他们放入影片中。你如何做这些决定?他们对构架这个故事有什么作用?
BC:你影片中出现的女性都只出现在公共空间中。其中只有一个私密的场景,一个女性在一个宾馆的房间中的镜头前说话。你可以谈谈这个决定吗?
BC:你作为一个白人女性艺术家的身份在非洲和中国没有被同等看待?
位于三元里一带的商贸城和非洲餐馆
图片由玛丽·瓦涅提供蔡俏凌:在拍摄前,你很清楚地说明身份认同和民族问题不是这个影片的核心,尽管人们很可能会期待看到这些讨论。为什么你避免去谈论“黑”的概念或者这种关于非洲的视觉呈现?
BC:你在之前曾说过欧洲仍然认为自己是中心。但是在这个作品制作过程当中,还没有可观看的成片的时候,已经有很多欧洲机构表示对它有兴趣。你觉得这是为什么呢?
玛丽·瓦涅在广州某服装市场仓库中
摄影:梦纯
Marie Voignier (MV): Before Na China, I did two films in Cameroon. The last one, Tinselwood (2017), began with research into testimonies recalling the French colonization of the eastern region of Cameroon in order to explore the relationship between the environment—the huge rainforests—its inhabitants, and the political history of French exploitation in this region. During the development of this project, I realized that in Cameroon, as in other countries of the African continent, China has become the object of great attention in everyday conversations and in the press. Chinese workers, Chinese investments, Chinese policies are extensively debated in every city and village. I became interested in the ways in which the Cameroonians and the Chinese could work/live/trade together—or not. In any case, they follow a radically different path from the forms of western colonialism that have operated in the past and the present.
I started to dig deeper into those relationships between Africa and China, and I was thrilled to learn that for more than fifteen years, African entrepreneurs have been tracing the production chain of Chinese products sold in their countries and going to the sources of those trades. With a small amount of capital, often their family savings, thousands of young women and men, beginners or experienced, have moved to China to seek opportunities to invest, receive training, start a business, even make a fortune. They come from over thirty different African countries; some have been here for fifteen years, others for just a year or a month, holding all possible configurations of visa status, legality, risk, and capital. I knew that Guangzhou would be the best place to observe the heart of this globalization—being located at the mouth of the Pearl River Delta, where a large portion of low-cost Chinese production flows through. For many traders looking for opportunities in the globalized economy, Guangzhou has become a new El Dorado over the years, promising social mobility no other place could offer.
BC: How did you become interested in the African women traders? How did this interest evolve over the course of your research visits?
MV: At the beginning of my research in December 2017, I was primarily interested in the global economic framework of African-Chinese relations and its condition of possibility in Guangzhou: To what extent were things happening in Guangzhou connected to the rest of the world, and to me as a person of French nationality?
In the African communities in Guangzhou, a large part of the trade operates without the oversight of western countries and bypasses their international regulations, their copyrights, their multilateral institutions like the WTO or the World Bank, and is mostly outside of any banking system. This “counter-hegemonic globalization,” or “popular globalization,” “subaltern or lower circuit,” as some economists call it, involves millions of people with small capital and informal transactions on the margins of hegemonic globalization. It allows the less well-off to access commodities—mostly manufactured in China—that would otherwise be out of reach. I’m very interested in situations that reflect the decline of western influence and outline the shape of this new geopolitics. Thrilling are the contradictions between a brutal capitalism and a way to do trade inside it, which is uniquely subversive and operates on basic human trust and individual relationships.
During my first visit, the practical challenge was to meet someone, anyone, from Africa who was involved in trade in Guangzhou. I spent days wandering in the wholesale markets in Xiaobei and Sanyuanli, trying to start conversations. No one understood what I was looking for, what I was selling or buying, why I was asking questions and spending time with people there. Since I wasn’t Chinese, I couldn’t be a Chinese government spy, and since I wasn’t African, I couldn’t be a business competitor. I was not part of the picture at all, which was helpful. Since everyone else was in China for business, and filmmaking was my little business, I started to consider filming as a kind of method of trade.
Little by little, I got to know some Cameroonian traders. I wanted to meet women traders too, which was very difficult because there were few of them. Finally, at the very end of my first stay, I was introduced to Julie, who has an important role in Na China.
It was impossible to film during this visit. Even if the few traders I did meet trusted me, they couldn’t possibly participate because of their status. Take the visa issue for example, they couldn’t be filmed as traders because they were on a student visa or didn’t even have the right to live in Guangzhou. After my first visit, I was so discouraged that I thought the film might not be possible at all.
Then I read Tu Huynh’s article “A ‘Wild West’ of trade? African women and men and the gendering of globalization from below in Guangzhou.” Her stance in this text is remarkable. She highlights the subversive role of women traders who transgress and redefine cultural norms and gender assignments in the local and global economy. She also criticizes the hyper masculine discourse about the business world in Guangzhou adopted by the press and academia. African women who settle in Guangzhou, learn Chinese, and set up businesses in fashion, construction, or freight have been overlooked and receive little media attention. So, I decided to focus on these businesswomen, whose lives can’t be more different from the victimizing western discourses ascribed to African women.
BC: You have worked in very different local contexts and faced many obstacles in the making of your previous films. What were some of the obstacles you encountered in China?
MV: Since 2013, foreigners, especially black people living in Guangzhou, have had to deal with increased police repression. Day after day, visa checks, counterfeits and drug searches, and administrative restrictions are on the rise. As I mentioned, many women (and men) live and work in Guangzhou on student visas, which is in violation of the law. Any police raid can lead to their arrest and deportation with a 10-year ban from return. This situation makes filming a risky business: the camera may alert the police, and it’s too dangerous for them to show their faces to the camera while talking about their work. I was also taking chances: getting caught with a camera in the streets or markets of Guangzhou without a shooting permit could bring serious problems to me.
Another challenge had to do with the spaces I wanted to film: the wholesale markets in Xiaobei and Sanyuanli are fascinating with all the colorful garments, all the flashy counterfeit items; everything is overflowing with excess. I wanted all this outrageousness and excess to be in the film to show the economic context, the scale of commodity production in China that serves the rest of the world. But these shops are so narrow that they are a nightmare for the camera. They are too big and too small at the same time.
BC: You spent two years establishing relationships with the people in the film. Can you explain your mode of approach for working on this project?
MV: For each of my films, I develop a methodology that corresponds to the stakes at hand. I knew this project wouldn’t be easy. I’d have to immerse myself in the local business network. Looking back, there were four stages of development, which were interwoven and not planned in advance.
The first step was to spend as much time as possible with some of the women traders I met, so that we could get to know each other better. I learned how they worked, how they ran their businesses, much of which entailed sitting in their hair salons, shops, or cargo offices every day for long hours. All of this I did without filming.
Then I started filming very discreetly, with a mobile phone, in the heart of the markets. I had been following a Cameroonian trader named Jackie in her quest for jewelry, dresses, curtains, pots and pans, shoes, and handbags. When I could, I also filmed Kelly and Remmie in their own clothing store and cargo office with a tiny camera, spending hours in a corner waiting for something to happen.
The third milestone was an extensive recorded interview with five women: Kelly, Remmie, Julie, and two others. Only the sound recording was possible because of the risk of facial recognition. I rented a recording studio so participants could get out of the markets, get off work for a little bit, so I could have their full attention. Since I took their time away from work, I paid them for this other work that I asked them to do with me.
The last step was to do a week-long shoot with the businesswomen (Julie and Kelly) and actresses (Shanny Uwimana and Stephanie Idio), where we filmed scenes that I had imagined and wrote after the interviews. For the shoot, I worked with cinematographer Thomas Favel and sound engineer Li Binggen (李秉根) with the help of the Times Museum team led by Nikita Yingqian Cai (蔡影茜) and the precious assistance of Cai Qiaoling (蔡俏凌).
The editing was predictably challenging because different characters and rhythms are shown in different types of images, between documentary and fiction, direct cinema and staging, shot on both the mobile phone and the video camera. I like the mixture of different ways of approaching cinema that rarely coexist in the same film. And I like the fact that these contradictions remain unresolved.
It was important to show the diversity of the women’s lives. I didn’t want to choose a single person or path; I wanted to open up to a broader set of experiences and practices, even though the six women in the film can’t represent all of them. I try to build tension between individual paths and particular characters, as well as between the contexts of China and the world economy. These personal and political contexts must be held together. It is a question of scale.
BC: The film loosely traces the movement of goods, which ends in a final shipment to Africa. How do you construct the different narrative layers in the work?
MV: The initial intention was not to trace the movement of goods or any specific narrative. The different narrative layers come from different characters the film follows, and those who are involved in different activities: negotiating with clients or suppliers, buying, packing, shipping. My intention was to create links between those layers. For example, Jackie explains her position regarding original and counterfeit goods; later Julie negotiates the sale of a handbag that probably comes from a Chinese Chanel or Gucci factory; after that, Ada in her women’s clothing shop, tries to sell a Chanel knit shirt to a customer. One character takes over from the previous one. At the editing table, we constructed the film as a kind of chain, linking one woman to another, one theme to another, building visible and invisible bridges between them, and highlighting the constructed nature of this economic system. Consequently, the film is constructed in a way that sort of follows the logic of the system, which starts with buying commodities and ends with shipping them off. We also tried to edit in other ways, but nothing else really made sense.
Cai Qiaoling (CQ): You work in a way that allows you to be flexible and react quickly to the situation. Initially you wanted to cast a Nigerian woman who speaks Igbo, but we only found Stephanie, a Nigerian-American woman who runs her own hair business while teaching in a kindergarten. You decided to have Stephanie play herself. When we encountered sellers in the wholesale market shops livestreaming with cellphones on tripods, who were making hundreds of sales every day interacting with followers on Taobao, while trying on clothes, you also included them in the film. How did you make these decisions? What’s their function in constructing the story?
MV: I prefer to improvise and follow my intuition on the shoot, rather than following a story or written text. When Stephanie presented herself to us during the casting, her story was much more interesting than the one I’d written for her role. It’s hard to imagine writing something more interesting than life itself—every time I try to write fiction, I end up filming things as they are, people in their real lives. I find that much more exciting. With non-professional actors, it’s better to let them construct their own roles in front of the camera rather than forcing them to stick to a text or character that’s far from themselves.
As to the livestreaming we discovered on the location scout, it was indeed fascinating. I thought it was a perfect expression of something I was looking for: the sensation of been overwhelmed by commodities—the overflowing, the overfilling, the over-production, the intensity of production and sales, and the people behind these activities. When I decided to include it in the shooting plan, I wasn’t sure at all whether this sequence would make it in the final edit, but my intuition turned out to be right: the sequence is necessary to give the feeling of the craziness of Guangzhou’s trade on the domestic market.
BC: The women in your film are only shown in public spaces. There is only one private scene where a woman talks in front of the camera in a hotel room. Can you talk about this decision?
MV: That was an early decision. In my previous films I worked a lot with historical, political, and labor issues, and I mostly filmed men. It wasn’t a deliberate decision, but the fact is there are more male characters in my films than female ones: men at work, men speaking as a professional of this, as a director of that. Women often stay off-frame, preferring not to be filmed. I never got into the personal life of those men and no one asked me about it. I wanted to film these women the way I always film people—as professionals and key agents in this non-hegemonic process of globalization. I didn’t want to shift focus to the private or intimate sphere, even if it is also politically significant and interwoven with professional life. I think it’s meaningful, but I prefer to insist on something else, especially because they are women.
I had already asked the actresses to expose themselves a lot. In this kind of business in China, everything is discreet, even secret: people barely talk with one another about business, what they buy, from whom, where, at what price. Even friends don’t share much about one’s business or life. People sometimes don’t even know if their friend has the right visa or permit. Sometimes a person disappears, and his friends think he might’ve been arrested and deported, but until then nobody knew he didn’t have the proper visa. One’s visa status is regarded as a private issue that could be dangerous to expose, even to friends. So, what I was able to do in Na China, that is to say, bringing some women in front of the camera to explain their business and visa situation, or let me film them at work, trading with clients or suppliers, it was a true miracle. Asking to go inside their apartments and to expose their private life was something I didn’t want to do. Of course, I had private, reciprocal conversations with Julie, Jackie, Ada ... about our life, work, family, but it all happened off-camera. The camera would have made the reciprocity impossible.
Also, the women work so much and in such a difficult context that they have very limited personal life outside work. They rarely go out; they don’t have family in China and don’t want to start any. They work and work and work, late into the night because of the time difference with clients in their home countries. This summer, for the first time in two years, Julie posted on WeChat a picture of something other than work: she saw Black Panther in a movie theater.
BC: Was your role as a white female artist perceived differently in Africa and China?
MV: Indeed. In Cameroon I was part of the subject of Tinselwood, meaning the remains of French colonization. I was involved as a French person since a large part of the French colonial history in Cameroon is completely ignored in France, a brutality that is understated if not simply erased. I must work against that. Very few white people pass through southeastern Cameroon, where I filmed; only big game hunters and sometimes priests and religious sisters. It was easy to make my research understandable to anyone and people were quite receptive.
In China, westerners are the outsiders. They are not part of the trade or the administration. I was not walking around unnoticed in those Guangzhou markets, that’s for sure, but at the same time nobody cared about me. That’s why it was more difficult to explain my interest in making a film about business between Africa and China. But when I started to talk about the poor representations of black women in Europe and how Europe was still blindly considering itself as the center of the world, people finally got my point and engaged in discussion.
CQ: Before the shoot, you made it very clear that identity and racial issues wouldn’t be the core of this film, though it might be what people expect to see. Why do you avoid digging into the concept of “blackness” or the visual representation of Africa and/or blackness?
MV: Indeed, from the beginning my focus is on the interconnections between the global economic issues and the postcolonial times, which of course include identity and racial issues, but they are considered in the historical and geopolitical context I observe in Guangzhou. In that sense, I don’t think I’m avoiding racial issues, but I don’t consider them separately from other questions in this context. Of course, I am speaking from my perspective as a white woman, who needs to take into account that the history and economy regarding the construction of the concept of race begin with the western history of slavery and colonization.
As a white woman, I don’t think what I have to say about “blackness” is that interesting or relevant. Other voices must be listened to. As an artist and filmmaker, if I want to fight against structural racism in western society, I should start by producing works that shed light on hidden parts of its history and historical consequences. This is what I tried to do in Tinselwood, and the book La Piste Rouge (2015), which is a collection of testimonies and conversations about forced labor in East Cameroon under German and later French forces up to the early 1950s. I should also look into the future and reconsider the place of western societies in the world: to make visible the counter hegemonic movements, the complexity of the new world exchanges and the provincialization of Europe, and show representations of African diasporas that shatter western biases. My perspective is but one among many others. We need to see more films about the subject, made from different perspectives, because each film is partial, subjective, and speaks from a situated position.
BC: You mentioned earlier how Europe still thinks of itself as the center. But many European institutions have also shown great interest in this specific work without even seeing it, while it is still in the making. Why do you think that is the case?
MV: When I say “Europe” I’m obviously making a generalization. There are many thinkers, curators, scholars, activists, artists and others who are aware of the postcolonial times we are living in, who are politically active in deconstructing the westerner’s self-centered narratives—with diverse and radical approaches, of course. However, at the scale of European societies and politics, things are moving very slowly, and sometimes even backwards, as we can see in how the European Union is dealing with refugees and migrants coming to Europe.
In France, for example, you can have very political exhibitions, books, films, or talks in public institutions, but the President would never make an official statement about the devastating effects of French colonization. The reality is of course very complex: many public and private cultural and art institutions have shown interest in decolonial thinking and decentered (art) histories, but this is often a purely opportunistic gesture, because decolonial artmaking has also been subsumed into the mainstream western art world’s superficial self-questioning. In this context, it’s not surprising that Na China appeals to certain European institutions because it raises issues that are at the crossroads of such questionings.
Marie Voignier is an artist living in Paris. She studied Engineering and then Fine Arts at the École nationale supérieure des beaux-arts in Lyon. She is primarily concerned with tied realities, complex stories in which several truths are mixed. Each of her projects is built following a unique approach guided by the subject and the human relationships it weaves. If her works seem fed by a scientific spirit of investigation and testimony, they foil any allocation of the image to reality telling and found their way to get around the post-colonial speech, as to let an active role to the subject itself. “I am not in an ethnographic approach but in a will to historicize the glance,” she says. Her last film Tinselwood earned her a nomination to the Prix Marcel Duchamp 2018. Her films have been shown Centre Pompidou (Paris) , LAXART (Los Angeles), Haus der Kunst (Munich), Museum of Contemporary Photography (Chicago), Berlinale, Viennale, IFFR Rotterdam, FID Marseille and 57th Venice Biennale (2017), La Triennale, Paris (2012) and 6th Berlin Biennials (2010).