Four Parts of a Folding Screen

Director: Anthea Kennedy, Ian Wiblin

Year: 2025

A poetic memoir and political report, shot in Berlin and Leipzig, and in landscapes around the British Isles. The film’s narrative builds out from the events of the Reichstag Fire in Berlin in 1933 in which the pioneering German-Jewish sound recordist, Ludwig Koch, on whom the film ultimately centres, plays a minor role, placing him and his family in danger. The film is structured in two parts, juxtaposing Koch’s persecution in Nazi Germany with his experiences as a refugee recording bird song and other sounds in Britain. The film’s images of contemporary urban and rural terrains, and of objects and documents, create a collision between past and present. Shifts in time are further emphasised through the use of Koch’s original sound recordings from Germany and Britain which feature throughout the film. Official Selection FID Marseille 2025 - International Competition

Director: Anthea Kennedy, Ian Wiblin

Year: 2013

An unseen woman witnesses the ordinary oppression and fear of the early years of National Socialism. She describes the sound of screaming she regularly hears on passing a military barracks whilst walking from her house to the station. Images of the barracks recur throughout the film, suggesting the routine tyranny that precipitates the woman's increasing fear and eventual journey into exile. The film's structure of repetition and retelling foregrounds the way in which her life is stunted by increasing marginalisation and terror. "I’m only just eighteen but sometimes I already feel so old that I think of dying," she writes in a letter to her would-be lover. The View from Our House is based in part on the memories, unsent letters and notebooks of a young photographer who lived in Berlin-Tempelhof. Aspects of her life are mapped out within this small area of Berlin through a succession of haunted images and sounds that imbue place with a sense of memory and history.

Director: Luca Anzalone

Year: 2026

Caught between her indigenous Buryat roots—where art is a shamanic window between worlds—and a Western market that treats culture as a commodity, artist Yuma Radne constructs a monumental canvas to confront the psychological distortions of colonization at the edge of an irreversible era. "Either you make art, or you suffer. It’s like a curse." For painter Yuma Radne, the act of creation is not an aesthetic choice, but an ancestral code carried in the blood. Moving from a remote Siberian village to the high-stakes European art world, Yuma finds herself navigating a surreal landscape where sacred cultural identity is rapidly converted into a luxury product. Through intimate studio dialogues and raw philosophical reflections, the film captures the gruelling physical and mental labour behind her graduation masterpiece, The End of Times. Centred around a gargantuan erupting booze (a traditional Buryat dumpling) mutated into an absurd, monumental symbol of a colonised and erased national identity, the film transcends a typical artist portrait. It becomes a vital, cosmic meditation on why humanity continues to create art in the face of systemic collapse—and a powerful testament to an indigenous culture refusing to be reduced to a souvenir.