Resumo:
O ensaio audiovisual explora as qualidades formais da ladainha, tal como encontrada no Santuário de Nossa Senhora das Candeias, na Bahia. A partir das gravações da prática de cura de Seu Capelinha, questiona, em imagens, sons e narração em voice-over, a forma, ou a não forma, da ladainha. Inspirado no filme-ensaio e no “falar próximo”, busca abrir um hiato entre o que é dito e mostrado, ativando e envolvendo o espectador.
Palavras-chave:
ladainha; milagre; antropologia visual
Abstract:
This audiovisual essay explores the formal qualities of the litany, as encountered at the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Candeias, in Bahia. Drawing on recordings of Seu Capelinha’s healing practice, it questions, through images, sounds, and voice-over narration, the form-or non-form-of the litany. Inspired by the essay film and the notion of “speaking nearby,” it seeks to open a gap between what is said and what is shown, activating and engaging the viewer.
Keywords:
litany; miracle; visual anthropology
Resumen:
Este ensayo audiovisual explora las cualidades formales de la letanía, tal como se encuentra en el Santuario de Nuestra Señora de Candeias, en Bahía. A partir de las grabaciones de la práctica de curación de Seu Capelinha, cuestiona, mediante imágenes, sonidos y narración en voice-over, la forma, o la no-forma, de la letanía. Inspirado en el cine-ensayo y en el “hablar cerca”, busca abrir un hiato entre lo que se dice y lo que se muestra, activando e involucrando al espectador
Palabras clave:
letanía; milagro; antropología visual
The Sanctuary of Our Lady of Candeias, in Bahia, is renowned for its Fountain of Miracles, where numerous miraculous healings are said to have taken place. It is also home to a faith healer known as Seu Capelinha, who receives pilgrims in the Room of Miracles, located near the sacred spring.
For years I have been watching the footage I filmed of Seu Capelinha's healing practice—a particular form of prayer known as the “ladainha” (litany). I kept asking myself what to do with the intriguing form of this litany: an endless enumeration of illnesses, afflictions, social problems, and aspirations for which Seu Capelinha invokes the help of the Virgin Mary.
How might one relate the appropriateness of this form to the particularities of the sanctuary—its ever-flowing waters, its miracles, its ex-votos, and the dreams and fears brought there by pilgrims?
As an anthropologist, I obviously spoke at length with Seu Capelinha, and those conversations were fascinating. Yet he had little to say about the litany itself—or perhaps I was simply asking the wrong questions. When I returned to Candeias last summer, hoping to engage him in a longer conversation about his practice and how he had learned it, I was told that he no longer offered his services in the Room of Miracles. No one knew where he lived or how to contact him.
I was left with the fascinating recordings, which ultimately found their place in this short film. Someone suggested that I read “The Infinity of Lists” (2010) by Umberto Eco. What a marvelous book! Eco demonstrates that the litany is an aesthetic form found across times and cultures. Moreover, he shows that listing things is not confined to prayers and other oral practices, but also appears in literature, visual culture, encyclopedias, cabinets of curiosities, and museum collections. Eco's study suggests that understanding the appeal, appropriateness, and efficacy of the litany requires an analysis of its form. That is precisely what I seek to do in this visual essay: to investigate, through images, sound, and voice-over narration, the form—or, as I argue, the non-form—of the litany.
Finally, I would like to add a few words about the visual essay, which, despite its great potential for visual anthropology, is still not a widely recognized genre. Laura Rascaroli (2017) understands the essay film as a form that invites the viewer to think alongside the filmmaker, who in voice-over presents reflections on the sounds, images, and formal and aesthetic choices made in the editing process. The essay's innermost formal law, Rascaroli writes, is heresy: “essayer”— to try. Indeed, she compares the essay film to a form of thinking aloud, in which things are true only in relation to the author's evolving understanding of what is true.
Another major inspiration for this work (and for much of my filmmaking more generally) is the principle advanced by the Vietnamese anthropologist and filmmaker Trinh T. Minh-ha (1982): rather than speaking about the subjects of a film, one should speak nearby them—a gesture that questions the author's authority to be in charge of what is being shown. In my film, this practice of "speaking nearby" seeks to open a gap between what I assert in the voice-over narration and what I present to the viewer through images and sound. It plays with the fact that the meaning of sounds and images can never be exhausted by my intentions as expressed in the narration; this semantic excess offers viewers an abundance of counterarguments. The gap in the essay film—and the tensions it generates—thus seeks to activate and engage the viewer, who must decide how to assess what is said and what is shown.
To watch the film, click the following link.
-
Data Availability Declaration
Not applicable.
Edited by
-
Editor-in-Chief:
Edilson Pereira
-
Guest Editor:
João Leal
-
Assistant Editor:
Lucas Bártolo
Not applicable.
