Céline Coubray:Why did you choose to tackle this subject?
: It was the subject that chose me. It all started with a phone call from the Circolo Curiel, which, faced with the imminent closure of the place, was worried about leaving no trace of over 50 years of activism, culture and other activities. As I was a long-time visitor to this place, grew up there politically and became involved in community work, especially in the 1990s and 2000s, they asked me to think about how to leave a trace after the closure.
But that doesn't mean it's a commission.
No, not at all. It's a thought-provoking proposal, and I took an interest in it as an independent filmmaker to come up with a creative documentary. It's more a tribute and a questioning of the traces that this kind of place can leave in the collective subconscious.
Did you work from archives?
I quickly realised that there weren't many archives, because the spoken word was more important. Of course, there were administrative and political traces of the activities, voting records, account books... I had them researched as far away as Rome to see what the links were between Italy and the Circolo through the political channel, but I decided to ignore this narrative form and concentrate on the living memory. What I am proposing in ‘La Fourchette à gauche’ is an encounter with the past of the people who frequented this place and a sharing that goes far beyond their person.
For Donato Rotunno, the documentary “La Fourchette à gauche” is not a commissioned work, but a film d’auteur.Photo: Guy Wolff/Maison Moderne
And this encounter is a very emotional one. From the very first images of the documentary, we see witnesses who are very moved by the summary film that you presented to them beforehand.
What interests me in my career as a director is making popular works, which is the opposite of a populist film. I wanted to get back to basics, to the shared word. You have the right to get the date wrong, to contradict another speaker. It only works because the other contributors trust me.
You've also put in place a system that makes it easier for people to speak out. Can you explain why?
I knew that the place was going to be demolished. The idea was to create a place that was reminiscent of the place, without being it, that would pay homage to it. To do this, we created a kind of immersion in a false semblance, so that people could bring back fundamental, rather than anecdotal, memories. Over a period of three weeks I invited a series of people to come to the set, watch an initial immersion film and take the time to speak freely on various subjects relating to their life at Circolo Curiel. Editing the film afterwards helped to unravel all this emotional material into something that went beyond local interest.
In your documentary you explain that the Curiel is just one example among many in Europe, and you compare it with the Coopi in Zurich.
Yes, because the Circolo Curiel is not an isolated case. It's a model that has worked for over 100 years, a century of commitment, militancy and ways of meeting - and finding each other - in shared spaces, around a political ideology and culture. The Spanish community has followed a very similar path. These are forms of commitment that represent an era rather than a specific culture.
The question then arises as to why such a club still exists today, in a society that is not the same as it was 50 years ago. Now that the place no longer exists, that the building has been destroyed, will the Circolo be able to rise from its ashes, with political commitments that are no longer the same, cultural habits that have changed, just as social habits have also evolved.
All these questions are necessary. Because the world has changed, we need to find new forms, because the need for collective reflection and living together is still there. The question of physical space arises: what is a third place, a social centre, a cultural centre? Where is the limit to creative freedom? At the Curiel, there was absolute freedom, because there was flexibility according to need. All you had to do was ask for a room in which to meet. Today, we're trying to organise things. But is that really what we need? In any case, I don't think the Circolo as it used to exist can ever come back. We need to find new ways of fighting.
The Ciculo Curiel was located on rue de Hollerich in Luxembourg. Photo: Tarantula
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As well as being a place for political and cultural debate, the Circulo Curiel was also a trattoria. (Photo: Tarantula)
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Corinne Cahen was one of the Circolo Curiel's frequent visitors. (Photo: Tarantula)
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David Wagner also frequented the Circolo Curiel. (Photo: Tarantula)
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The evolution of the club also says a lot about the evolution of Luxembourg. The people who come to bear witness in front of your camera are not only Italian, but come from all walks of life.
The originality of this place was this generational and cultural mix, admittedly in a political family that was rather left-wing, but it was an incredible Babylon. It has shaped our politicians who have passed through here, grassroots activists, people from the cultural world, the simply curious, those who came to eat. Just knowing that there's a library in a place where you go to eat, that there are political debates taking place in the rooms on the first floor, changes the perception of the place a great deal. This is how Luxembourg society has developed over the decades. We mustn't forget that we're talking about an analogue era, when there weren't the new forms of digital communication that we know today. These were our social networks.
This documentary also tells another story, the story of land ownership in Luxembourg.
Absolutely, and when you see the role played by land in the closure of Coopi in Zurich, you realise how important it is for Circolo to own its premises. In Zurich, 117 years of activism and political influence came to an end because they lost control of their property. In Luxembourg, it all started with a dream, certainly inspired by the ideology of Italian communism, where people from different families took the risk of buying a common property. This dream of the collective becoming reality has enabled Circolo to live for 50 years. And perhaps even longer with the new project.
Why didn't you go further with the transformation to come? That would be the subject of a second film. I had to stop at some point. The choice of this film was to ask questions, including about the future of such a place. I'm here to provoke thought, I'm not doing an audit.
Did you show this film to the Circulo staff? What was their reaction?Yes, they saw it, and they told me that they had learned a few things. Which isn't so surprising after all, because the documentary covers 50 years of history. Everyone has seen it from their own point of view, and it's a jigsaw puzzle that comes together. That's another of the project's strengths. Everyone adds their stone to the edifice that is now being demolished. I was also very pleased that they accepted the questioning in the film, because it's not a propaganda film. When people approach me to talk about this film, they all talk about their own experience of this place. That's what makes it interesting: everyone who has experienced this place will be able to make the film their own with their own memories. It's a film that goes beyond my questions.
A preview screening of “” (”What’s left?”) will be held on 7 November at the . The film will be released in Luxembourg on 20 November. After that, screenings are planned at various festivals. A broadcast on RTL is also planned. Production: Tarantula.
Read the original French-language version of this interview
