The multi-award winning Spanish film The Visit and A Secret Garden, one of 15 features in competition at this year’s ARCA, makes for a poignant contrast.
A two-part film, the first half-hour full-length portrays the famous Spanish painter Isabel Santalo in a decrepit old age living in complete obscurity in a cramped apartment somewhere on the nondescript outer radius of Madrid.
Directed by Irene M. Borrego, the artist’s niece, London School of Film and prized short film director, the film picks up Santalo nearly 50 years after she dropped off the radar of Madrid’s art scene, having trained at the Madrid School of Fine Arts, the Louvre in Paris and the MoMa in Paris. New York, at exhibitions in Paris, Milan, Stockholm and Miami, and emerged as one of Spain’s most prominent women painters and restorers during the 1950s and 1970s.
Half a century later, Santalo is first seen in her bedroom, photographed from outside the door, trouser leg stretching as she wears her sweatpants. For much of the first half of the film, she remains a fragmented figure, trudging down the corridor of her apartment bent over a trolley pushing in front of her, or perching in her large armchair, her right hand trembling and covering her face.
Meanwhile, an audio interview takes place between the director and Antonio López, arguably Spain’s most respected living painter and the subject of Victor Erice’s 1992 Cannes Jury Prize-winning “Dream of Light,” who seems to be one of the only people in Spain who remembers Well Santalo.
As a painter, Santalo was “very popular” in her day, Lopez says, while taking a shot of Santalo’s bedroom door near her own completely closed bedroom. “Her tones were dry and bright, shapes simple but not geometric,” he says. “A little bit harsh, very honest, very authentic and very secretive, like her,” Lopez continues, as the film depicts Santalo, barricaded by her bedroom door, as she sits on her bed. “It made me think of a secret garden. I think if you venture there, you will find things that are very attractive and beautiful even though they don’t seem to want to show them.”
However, at some point it disappeared. “No one has talked about it in many years,” Lopez says. “The present erases everything.”
At the half-hour point, however, “The Visit and the Secret Garden” opens up as Santalo, questioned by Borrego fighting over what happened to her paintings and her idea of their significance as an artist, begins to speak her mind, discovering her voice is – surprisingly – full of throat.
“I hate our family,” she admits. “The way they treated me was like I was working in a brothel.” “The true artist expresses himself only without being sure of what he is doing.”
What does it take to make art? Borrego asks. “There are no laws.” You alone are an “orphan”.
Why did you never get married? “Because I didn’t like the maid’s life. Do you understand the word, servant?”
“Isabel was respected,” Lopez recalled. Even after 50 years, despite its advanced vulnerability, this behavior still persists. The film, which is a picture of the forgotten artist Isabel Santalo as she depicts her fate, saves her from this oblivion.
Produced by Madrid-based Borrego (“This Film is about Me”, “El mar nos mira de lejos”) and Lisbon-based Cedro Plátano, “La visita y un jardín secreto”, Borrego’s debut at the Malaga Festival won the Silver Biznaga Award for Best Direction and audience in its documentary section. It also won the HBO Max Award for Best Portuguese Film in the DocLisboa Competition of the Year.
Spain is distributed by Begin Again Films. Les Films de la Resistance handles international rights. diverse I spoke to Borrego on the eve of ARCA.
Visit the secret garden
One of the crucial decisions of the film, and one that gives it great originality, is to show Isabelle’s apartment, and how she ends up living, but not her paintings. Can you briefly guide us through this decision?
The decision was related to the show’s approach and focus on Isabelle’s present, to release questions and thoughts about the creative process, art, and life. I wasn’t looking to do a biography or call to judge Isabelle as an artist by showing her paintings. In fact, her main body of work had mysteriously disappeared and was not in her apartment. The evocative nature of the blank walls, Antonio’s voice and the hard truths Isabel shares seemed to me a more interesting way to open the film.
When you portray Isabelle in the early spaces of the film, she is half hidden by doorways or with her hands, or is often seen from behind. This appears to be an official representation of her status as a now unknown artist. Again, can you comment?
Cinematography certainly plays with the concept of visibility and concealment. I think this formal approach is also reflected in the idea of framing Isabelle from a certain cinematic distance, in this case the distance between the director and her subject due to fear. Officially speaking, this gap gradually narrows as the film progresses. The intent is to invite the audience on a journey in which facts, discoveries, and ideas are slowly revealed.
When Isabelle speaks, she finds that she is still strong and passionate about her art. Were you surprised by her intellectual activity?
I had a chance to sense just how strong, sharp and energetic Isabel was during the research phase, but fully recognized and embraced it during editing. The strength of her mind contrasts with the weakness and fragility of her body and condition. The choice to only reveal her powers later in the movie was very conscious and meant to capture the audience’s attention as well as give Isabelle the floor and space to truly express her presence.
In the film, she says, addressing Isabelle in a voiceover, “I looked at you with my father’s eyes.” When did your attitude towards Isabelle begin to change? Are you still afraid of ending up like her?
I often say that making this movie was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life so far. I think fear is why and how I started this project, and awareness and gratitude is how I finish the movie. After filming, and mainly during the long process of editing, I changed my attitude not only to Isabel but to myself and my shadow. Today I can say that I strive to be as consistent and courageous as Isabel.
Do you think the movie will lead to renewed interest in showing Isabel Santalo’s paintings?
We’re already seeing some ripple effects, especially after the presentation of “The Visit and the Secret Garden” at the Reina Sofia Museum with Antonio Lopez. Various media shows interest in Isabel Santalo. On the other hand, many art institutions are willing to find more information, search for her paintings, and hopefully reopen their case. Recently, a page dedicated to Isabelle has appeared in Wikipedia, and I am actively in contact with various critics and historians to present all the research material that I collected during the preparation of the film.
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