The politics of David Perlov’s camera

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Content

The
Politics
of
David
Perlov’s
Camera

by
Barak
Zemer

A
Thesis
Presented
to
the

FACULTY
OF
THE
USC
GRADUATE
SCHOOL

UNIVERSITY
OF
SOUTHERN
CALIFORNIA

August
2013

2

Table
of
Contents

Introduction

3

The
Politics
of
the
Photographic
Mechanism

5

The
Search
for
the
Anonymous

11

The
Passive
Eye

21

Conclusion

25

Bibliography

28

3

Introduction

May
1973,
I
buy
a
camera,
I
want
to
start
filming
by
myself
and
for
myself.
Professional

cinema
does
no
longer
attract
me.
To
look
for
something
else,
I
want
to
approach
the

everyday,
above
all,
in
anonymity.
It
takes
time
to
learn
how
to
do
it.
1

This
is
how
David
Perlov’s
six
hour
film
Diary
starts,
it
ends
in
1983.
The
film
depicts
a
portrait

of
the
artist
and
his
family
in
Tel
Aviv
where
he
lives,
in
Sao
Paolo
where
he
grew
up,
and
in

Paris
where
he
got
his
cultural
and
cinema
education
during
his
20s.

Throughout
this
time
Perlov’s
two
twin
daughters
get
drafted
to
the
army,
major

governmental
changes
happens
and
two
wars
erupt.
Perlov
surveys
the
world
from
his
very

ordinary
point
of
view,
searching
for
information
from
the
windows
that
surround
him:

photographing
his
loved
ones
change,
filming
his
television,
obsessively
looking
at
the
street

out
his
window
and
trying
to
understand
subtle
transformations.
Perlov
becomes
no
more

than
a
viewer
of
the
world,
he
situates
himself
almost
as
a
victim
of
time
and
circumstance.

The
Diary
is
a
result
of
a
crisis.
A
crisis
that
is
a
combination
of
personal
depression,

dissatisfaction
with
his
love
for
cinema
and
a
real
difficulty
to
integrate
into
Israeli
society

especially
with
its
problematic
political
reality.

1

Diary.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
1973-‐1983.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2007.
Episode
#1,
00:20

4

Less
then
a
minute
into
the
film,
the
camera
finds
Naomi,
his
daughter,
inviting
him
to
join
her

for
a
soup;
Perlov’s
voiceover
says,
“The
warm
soup
is
tempting
but
I
know
I
must
choose,

from
now
on
to
eat
the
soup
or
to
film
the
soup”
2
.
This
is
the
decision
that
Perlov
makes.
From

this
moment
on,
his
life
becomes
his
work
of
art.
All
separations
between
personal
life,

politics
and
art
fall.
The
cinema
that
he
had
grown
up
with,
its
sets
and
plots
lose
all

relevance.
The
more
he
can
exclude
the
cinematic
event
the
more
the
work
becomes
about

being.

2

Ibid.
Episode
#1,
02:05

5

The
Politics
of
the
Photographic
Mechanism

In
2002,
a
short
time
before
his
death,
Perlov
makes
his
last
film
My
Stills
3
.

This
film
is
about

photography
and
expresses
his
thoughts
on
the
medium
through
the
use
of
his
own
images

starting
from
1950s
and
through
the
works
of
other
artists
that
he
admires.

My
Stills
starts
with
the
voice
of
one
of
Perlov’s
former
students
who
is
giving
him
a
lesson

about
a
new
compact
digital
video
camera
that
Perlov
just
acquired.

As
we
hear
the
audio
of

the
lesson
we
see
images
of
birds
outside
of
Perlov’s
studio.
The
footage
is
super
saturated,
it

zooms
rapidly
in
and
out
and
the
camera’s
shakiness
suggests
Perlov’s
age.
The
bird
scene
at

the
beginning
of
My
Stills
is
not
a
composed
sequence;
it
lacks
any
apparent
content,
its
only

significance
is
it
being
the
first
footage
shot
with
the
new
camera.
The
viewer
is
experiencing

Perlov’s
awe
of
the
camera’s
size,
its
zooming
capabilities,
its
sophisticated
sound
recording

and
the
automated
light
meters
that
enables
him
to
shoot
inside
and
outside.

To
whoever

knows
Perlov’s
work
the
bird
scene
in
the
beginning
reminds
you
of
the
beginning
of
Diary
(“It

would
take
me
time
to
understand…
My
first
shot,
my
second”)
4
.
The
acquisition
of
a
new

3
My
Stills.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
2003.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2006.

4

Diary.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
1973-‐1983.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2006.
Episode
#1,
00:50

6

camera
for
Perlov
is
a
beginning
of
a
new
research.

The
camera
for
Perlov
functions
not
only

as
a
mechanic
tool
but
as
a
signifier
of
an
era,
a
point
in
history.

The
experiments
in
the
beginning
of
both
films
open
up
a
complicated
set
of
aesthetic

questions.
Instead
of
the
compact
digital
used
in
My
Stills,
Diary
starts
with
a
portable
16mm

film
camera.
As
Perlov
comes
from
a
background
of
using
conventional
35mm
film,
which

necessitates
a
crew,
a
plot,
a
producer,
and
investors,
Perlov
takes
advantage
of
the
new

technology,
puts
all
these
behind
and
opens
up
new
possibilities.
He
sees
this
as
a
potential

7

culture
revolution.
As
in
My
Stills,
in
Diary,
Perlov
immediately
tries
out
the
camera:
he
shoots

outside
of
his
window
and
then,
deciding
to
turn
around,
he
films
his
wife
entering
the

bedroom
and
coming
out
immediately
with
a
different
outfit.
“I
have
an
urge
to
turn
around,

point
the
camera
indoors
into
my
own
home,
even
now
I
don’t
know
how
Mira
(his
wife)

manages
in
one
shot
to
change
her
dress
so
quickly
and
come
back”
5
.
This
is
a
moment
where

Perlov
is
about
to
reevaluate
his
cinema;
he
discovers
the
possibility
to
be
a
voyeur,
a
reporter

of
his
own
house
and
that
the
comments
and
little
thoughts
he
has
can
suddenly
be
translated

to
film.
The
banal
and
the
coincidental
start
having
roles
that
they
have
never
had
before.

These
elements
to
Perlov
are
cultural
turning
points
that
unavoidably
will
have
philosophical,

political
and
historic
consequences.
In
Perlov’s
films
these
turning
points
are
connected

directly
to
the
aesthetic
result
of
specific
equipment
that
allow
for
these
changes.
The
grain,

the
color,
the
short
shots
that
the
camera
is
limited
to
are
tied
to
potential
sociological

changes
that
might
evolve.

In
an
interview
between
the
film
critic
Uri
Klein
and
Perlov
6
,
Klein
asks
him
about
the

connection
of
technological
inventions,
aesthetics
and
sociological
transformation.
Perlov

compares
the
emergence
of
16mm
cameras
and
their
widespread
use
by
the
general
public
to

the
invention
of
pastel
colors
and
the
color
paint
tube
in
the
19
th

century.
He
talks
about
the

immediate
conceptual
transformation
that
this
had
on
artists
such
as
Edgar
Degas.
I
find
this

analogy
very
interesting,
as
pastels
and
paint
tubes
are
part
of
the
social
and
economic

development
of
the
petit
bourgeoisie
who
had
the
economic
and
technological
means
to

5

Diary.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
1973-‐1983.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2007.
Episode
#1,
01:20

6

Klein,
Uri
and
Irma.
“An
Interview
with
David
Perlov”.
Kolnoa.
Ha’Kibutz,
Ha’meuhad.
1981

8

travel,
to
leave
their
house
or
work
and
go
into
nature.
The
advancement
of
the
color
tube

allowed
the
artists
to
leave
their
studio
as
well,
to
go
to
the
street
and
parks
and
try
to

capture
movement
and
changing
light.
The
works
done
by
the
Impressionists
had
a
profound

effect
on
the
commodification
of
urban
life.
An
example
of
this
is
the
change
of
urban

planning
that
around
this
time
began
privileging
public
squares
and
grand
boulevards.
The

turning
point
in
the
arts
also
affected
the
perception
of
the
landscape,
as
people
began
to
see

it
as
a
social
construct;
nature
was
something
that
could
suddenly
be
consumed.
The

aesthetics
of
the
Impressionist
paintings
done
with
these
specific
colors
are
engraved
in

history
as
markers
of
certain
sociological
and
political
changes.

Perlov’s
technological
revelation
in
Diary
is
connected
strongly
to
Israel
and
its
local
art

history.
In
1973,
25
years
after
its
independence
Israel
was
still
governed
by
the
same
political

forces.
The
popular
notion
was
that
“the
nation
is
building
itself”
and
was
still
in
a
survival

mode.
Much
art
and
especially
cinema,
which
was
even
more
dependent
on
public
funding,

was
connected
to
propaganda.
Most
films
up
to
that
era
portrayed
Israel
as
a
melting
pot
and

described
the
process
of
building
a
nation.
The
goals
of
the
majority
of
Israeli
cinema
up
to

the
mid
1970s
had
a
nationalist

agenda.
Most
films
dealt
with
Ha’bait
Ha’leumi,
the
Israeli

term
meaning
“the
national
home”,
the
private
home,
which
was
until
then
was
mostly
used

as
a
metaphor
for
the
bigger
home,
the
nation.

9

This
historical
background
underscores
the
the
significance
of
Perlov’s
camera’s
motion
into

the
interior
of
house
at
the
beginning
of
Diary.
This
decision
to
turn
inwards
is
representative

of
the
decision
to
let
go
of
the
“the
national
home”
and
concentrate
on
the
private
home,
to

separate
the
two
terms.
In
many
ways
this
action
symbolizes
the
beginning
of
post
Zionisim
in

art.
It
is
the
mechanical
equipment
with
its
new
characteristics
which
will
open
the
door
to

Perlov’s
prolonged
search
into
his
own
space
as
a
subjective
research
of
his
private
home
and

his
family.

During
the
next
decade
as
he
shoots
Diary,
Perlov
will
begin
searching
and
learning
how
to

use
the
camera
in
order
to
serve
in
the
best
way
his
thoughts
about
his
family,
the

interactions
with
the
people
he
meets,
his
own
history
and
the
country.
The
images
will
be

come
more
simple
raw,
uncomposed,
neglecting
what
is
thought
as
beautiful.

In
1983,
towards
the
end
of
the
Diary,
Perlov
meets
Claude
Lanzmann
in
Paris.
Perlov’s

daughter
Yael
is
editing
the
Holocaust
film
“Shoa”
and
Perlov
comes
to
visit
them
at
the

studio.
Perlov
describes
Lanzmann
and
his
work:
“his
approach
is
dry,
unemotional,
like
that

of
a
legal
prosecutor
who
needs
no
rhetoric,
no
artistic
manners,
he
needs
only
documents”
7
.

When
Perlov
talks
about
Lanzmann
it
feels
as
though
he
is
trying
to
articulate
his
own
work.

He
is
deeply
impressed
when
Lanzmann
tells
him:
“I
find
in
this
film
(Shoa)
an
absolute

identification
between
morality
and
aesthetics,
If
it
is
Moral
it
is
beautiful.”
Lanzmans
last

quote
is
a
key
to
understanding
Perlov’s
perception
of
Dairy.
Perlov
strives
to
articulate
a
clear

7

Diary.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
1973-‐1983.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2007.
Episode
#5,
32:40

10

truth,
even
if
it
is
completely
subjective.
The
cinematic
efforts
to
manipulate
and
stylize
reality

become
unethical.
There
is
a
belief
that
if
the
personal
sincerity
comes
through
the
imagery

then
beauty
also
follows.

11

The
Search
for
the
Anonymous

“In
the
Lands
of
poverty
and
illiteracy
those
who
couldn’t
sign
their
names
had
two
crosses

signed
on
their
photographs:
name
and
surname.”
8

These
are
the
very
first
words
Perlov
opens
his
film
with,
they
are
read
aloud
to
the
viewer,

while
onscreen
they
appear
in
yellow
font
against
a
black
background.

It
is
unclear
what
this
sentence
means
and
what
it
refers
to.

During
the
6
hours
of
viewing

time
Perlov
talks
about
the
‘XX’
signature
on
only
another
two
or
three
occasions
confusing

even
more
this
phrase
which
seems
so
important
for
the
understanding
of
the
film.

Who
are
the
people
that
couldn’t
sign
their
names?
Where
are
those
lands
of
poverty
and

illiteracy?
These
remain
open
questions
throughout
the
movie,
they
are
questions
that

motivate
Perlov
to
research,
to
act.
It
seems
that
whatever
he
shoots
addresses
or
hints
at

issues
of
identity
or,
more
specifically
issues
of
lack
of
identity
or
the
erasure
of
identity.

Perlov
is
fascinated
in
the
non-‐named,
the
XX,
as
much
as
he
is
interested
in
their
names
and

8

Diary.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
1973-‐1983.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2007.
Episode
#1,
00:00

12

surnames.
The
anonymous,
the
invisible,
the
deprived
are
always
present
even
when
Perlov

focuses
on
his
close
family
members.

Given
the
constant
awareness
and
attention
he
gives
to
the
subtleties
of
image
and
its

relationship
to
language,
the
first
phrase
asks
questions
about
verbal
identity
in
relation
to

photographic
identity.
“…had
two
crosses
signed
on
their
photograph…”
While
an
absence
of

language
and
literacy
might
eliminate
the
subject’s
existence
to
a
degree,
the
photograph

functions
differently.

The
photographic
image
will
always
render
a
certain
identity.
How
does

the
image
function
in
conjunction
with
language?
How
does
it
function
without
language?

Does
XX
exist
outside
of
language?
is
it
a
name
despite
the
lack?

An
important
scene
that
relates
to
these
questions
of
identity
is
the
scene
where
Klaus
Kinsky

goes
to
visit
the
Arab
village
with
Perlov
9
.
Kinsky
arrives
to
Israel
to
take
part
in
an
Israel
film

about
Operation
Entebbe,
an
operation
of
the
Israeli
army
to
rescue
Israeli
hostages
from
the

hands
of
PLO
terrorists.
Perlov
talks
about
the
quick
commercialization
of
this
feat
of
courage.

He
sees
the
movie
as
a
“fabrication
of
myths”
and
describes
it
as
“a
part
of
reality,
the
bad

part
of
it”
10
.
Kinsky
arrives
to
portray
a
German
terrorist
who
holds
the
Israeli
captive.
He

meets
Perlov
at
the
Arab
part
of
Jerusalem.
The
internationally
renowned
actor
walks
with
his

Asian
wife
on
the
dirt
roads
of
the
poor
Arab
village.
The
famous
actor
meets
a
small
boy
who

gives
him
his
goat
to
be
photographed
with.
The
boy
cries,
Kinsky
gives
him
money
and
they

separate.
Perlov
takes
two
still
photographs
at
the
end,
one
of
the
boy
sitting
and
the
other
of

9

Ibid,.

Episode
#1,
19:30

10

Ibid,.
19:20

13

him
standing
up.
He
describes
the
photos:
“…seated,
he
salutes.
Standing
he
raises
his
hands

in
surrender,”
he
adds
in
shock
“to
my
camera?”

The
image
of
the
boy
surrendering
closely
resembles
a
famous
image
taken
by
the
Germans
at

the
Warsaw
ghetto
of
a
Jewish
boy
surrendering.
This
image
is
arguably
the
most
well
known

Holocaust
icon
in
Israel
and
is
used
in
a
majority
of
the
Holocaust
ceremonies
at
schools.
The

boy
from
Warsaw
ghetto
is
an
image
engraved
in
the
Israeli
collective
memory.

14

Perlov’s
sequence
and
its
conclusions
and
implications
are
complex:
a
German
actor
comes
to

take
part
in
a
high
production
Israeli
film
that
“fabricates
myths”
and

represents
a
reality
of

brave
Israelis
that
will
never
surrender.
The
sequence
ends
with
an
anonymous
Arab
boy

surrendering
in
front
of
an
Israeli’s
camera.
This
is
done
in
a
subtle
way
but
such
a
comparison

between
the
Jews
in
Europe
of
the
mid
20
th

century
and
Arabs
living
in
the
occupied

territories
is
unprecedented
and
still
today,
is
considered
a
taboo.

Perlov’
gaze
in
Diary
is
one
that
constantly
looks
for
the
familiar
and
the
banal
while

simultaneously
searching
for
the
anonymous,
the
XX.
In
the
last
three
episodes
of
the
Diary,
I

found
the
search
for
the
oppressed
other
to
be
very
intense.

This
is
a
critical
element
that

comes
through
in
his
attempts
to
analyze
his
experiences
in
Brazil,
Paris
and
of
course
in

Israel.
In
the
next
section
I
will
try
to
examine
this
search
for
oppressed
as
it
is
exposed
in
the

different
sites
which
Perlov
visits.

In
the
fifth
episode
Perlov
goes
on
a
sabbatical
vacation
and
goes
to
Paris
to
be
with
his

daughter
Yael.
This
is
the
third
time
that
Perlov
travels
to
Paris
since
the
beginning
of

the

movie.
On
the
previous
visit
he
went
to
see
the
square
where
Pier
Goldman,
a
left
wing
Jewish

intellectual
was
assassinated
by
supposedly
right
wing
anti-‐Semitic
extremist.

This
time
Perlov
and
his
wife
decide
to
go
to
visit
Germany.
Mira,
who
has
left
Poland
at
the

age
of
seven,
a
few
months
after
the
German
invasion,
feels
a
“unexplainable
urge
to
step
on

German
soil”.
They
go
to
Amsterdam
where
Perlov
gets
in
an
accident.

15

Perlov
returns
to
Paris
to
rehabilitate
in
his
daughter’s
little
apartment
in
one
of
the
poor

neighborhoods
of
Paris.
He
hardly
can
move
and
starts
filming
from
the
apartment
window

and
the
building’s
inner
court.
Perlov
becomes
fascinated
with
all
the
immigrant
children
that

play
in
the
yard.
He
goes
to
film
the
nearby
orthodox
synagogue
and
a
nearby
church,
a

church
of
African
immigrants.
He
constantly
examines
the
church
goers
and
how
foreign
they

seem
on
the
Paris
streets.
He
tries
to
detect
faces
that
remind
him
of
his
Brazilian
black

stepmother,
Donna
Giomar.

As
time
advances
and
Perlov
gradually
gets
better
he
allows
himself
to
go
farther
away
from

Yael’s
home.
He
takes
taxis
around
the
city
shooting
from
the
car.
He
goes
to
the
bridge
above

the
main
train
station
and
tries
to
reshoot
the
first
still
images
that
he
shot
when
he
was
in
his

20s.
We
see
the
images,
he
describes
how
the
buildings
seem
to
tilt
and
look
as
if
they
are

about
to
fall.
He
talks
about
how
he
is
attracted
to
the
frames
with
the
X
shaped
structures

supporting
the
bridges,
referring
again
to
the
opening
phrase
of
the
film.

At
a
certain
point
Perlov
enters
the
train
station.
He
waits
for
the
trains
coming
from
Germany

and
films
the
people
coming
down.
He
starts
to
play
a
game
of
recognition
and
separation

trying
to
understand
who
is
German
and
who
is
French.
By
this
point,
the
viewer
of
Diary
feels

uncomfortable,
Perlov’s
glance
verges
on
being
paranoiod
and
racist.
His
view
dedicated
to

understanding
origin,
race
and
defining
societies,
the
beautiful
city
of
Paris
and
its
culture

which
he
admires
so
much
becomes
no
more
than
a
platform
for
racial
separation.
After
a

while
at
the
dock
of
the
train
station
Perlov
says,
“I
had
enough
of
it,
this
dirty
job
of
selection

16

does
not
please
me”.
The
mention
of
selection
of
people
on
a
train
dock
is
another
clear

reference
to
the
Holocaust.

The
suspicion
portrayed
towards
Paris
and
Europe
does
not
only
apply
about
the
politics
of

the
specific
time
of
filming
but
suggests
that
a
historic
understanding
and
acknowledgment
of

the
events
that
happened
there
only
30
years
before
made
Paris
intolerable.

Toward
the
end
of
his
sabbatical
Yael’s
apartment
gets
broken
into
and
she
decides
to
leave

the
neighborhood
and
move
to
a
safer,
whiter
neighborhood.

As
Perlov
gets
ready
to
leave,
he
remembers
that
during
the
years
he
lived
in
Paris
he
loved

the
summers
the
most,
when
the
Parisians
left
to
their
vacations,
only
then
did
he
feel
that
he

belonged.
Perlov
mentions
that
he
would
like
to
return:
“I
would
like
to
return
to
make
a
film

with
a
video
camera
only
with
blacks,
here
in
Europe;
silhouettes”

From
Paris
Perlov
goes
to
Brazil.
The
viewer
is
already
familiar
with
the
stories
about
his

stepmother
Donna
Giomar.
Already
in
the
first
episode
Perlov
quotes
her
warning:
“Never

retrace
your
own
footsteps,
your
feet
may
be
burnt
and
you
won’t
be
able
to
walk
again”
11
.

Despite
the
warning,
it
seems
that
towards
the
end
of
Diary
this
is
exactly
what
he
is
doing

and
is
especially
searching
for
the
memories
of
Donna
Giomar.

Perlov
arrives
in
Sao
Paolo
and
stays
at
a
friend’s
house
where
he
is
given
a
servant
and
driver.

He
examines
closely
the
servants
tiding
his
apartment:
“Margarita…she
has
a
roof
here
which

11

Ibid.

Episode
#1,
44:50

17

is
not
hers,
flowers
and
vases
that
don’t
belong
to
her
and
never
will”
12
.
In
the
mornings
he

films
the
enormous
apartment
buildings
and
all
the
servants
cleaning
the
windows.

Perlov
goes
to
visit
a
friend
he
grew
up
with,
Gabi.
At
his
home
there
is
a
beautiful
painting
of

Tarsila
do
Amaral
a
known
feminist
socialist
Brazilian
painter.
The
painting
portrays
people

from
all
colors
as
one
big
entity.
Gabi
is
described
as
a
sociologist:
“one
of
those
who
seek
to

solve
the
problems
of
the
Operarios
in
a
modern
way”
13
.

While
this
is
being
said,
one
can
see

a
servant
and
her
child,
maybe
eight
years
old,
organizing
the
wine
glasses
of
the
house.

Perlov
leaves
Sao
Paolo
to
go
to
Belo
Horizonte,
the
city
where
he
grew
up.
On
his
way
he

stops
at
Oro
Preto,
the
village
of
gold.
Perlov
says
that
it
is
like
Amsterdam,
only
instead
of

canals
there
are
mines,
“wealth
for
the
masters,
a
death
sentence
for
all
the
others”
14
.
He

goes
to
see
the
church
of
the
slaves,
a
church
that
was
built
and
dedicated
to
the
black

traitors
that
served
the
masters
in
bringing
ships
of
slaves
from
Africa.

As
opposed
to
his
implied
observations
about
the
social
conditions
and
power
dynamics
in

France
and
Brazil,
when
Perlov
deals
with
similar
issues
in
relation
to
Israel
he
is
more
direct

and
uses
less
metaphors.
There
is
a
scene
on
the

third
episode
where
the
television

broadcasts
a
story
of
a
battle
that
happened
in
the
Lebanon
war.
Perlov
does
not
say
a
thing

and
lets
the
television
narrator
be
at
the
forefront.
The
translation
to
English
doesn’t
convey

12

Ibid.
Episode
#6.
02:45

13

Ibid,.Episode
#6,
37:35

14

Ibid.
41:25

18

the
absurdity
of
the
narration:
The
fighters
are
not
referred
as
soldiers,
they
are
called
“our

boys”.
Women,
children
and
the
elderly
are
called
“the
families”.
The
men
who
fight
for
their

villages
are
“terrorists”,
the
villages
are
“camps”.
The
Israeli
soldiers
that
stay
behind
are

there
to
“protect
the
families”,
they
are
very
disappointed
because
they
want
to
contribute,

be
at
the
action
as
well.
Suddenly
we
see
a
soldier
holding
a
local
women’s
hand.
She
is

apparently
in
shock;
the
soldiers
give
her
water
to
wash
her
face.
We
hear
the
narrator:
“our

boys
try
so
hard
to
stay
conscious
and
human”.
Perlov’s
voice
interrupts
in
anger
as
though

trying
to
answer
the
TV:
“So?
They
give
her
some
water?
And
you
call
that
humanity?
But

what
came
before?
What
will
come
after?”
15

Following
this,
the
camera
shows
three
tied
up

men
and
the
narrator
declares,
“three
terrorists,
that
have
given
themselves
up,
kids”
16

the

words
“captured”
and
“hostages”
are
not
mentioned.
Already
knowing
Perlov’s
perceptions

we
know
how
this
television
recording
must
deeply
disturb
him.
This
two
minute
narration

precisely
articulates
Perlov’s
view
of
an
Israeli
complex:
its
belief
that
it

possesses
the
noble

cause
while
not
recognizing
their
enemy’s
ambitions
and
motives
and
devaluing
the
Arabs
to

the
point
of
racism.
The
viewer
of
Diary
witnesses
an
example
of
brainwashing
in
which
the

public
television
and
newspaper
are
an
important
part.
The
way
that
Perlov
decides
to

criticize
this
while
hardly
using
any
of
his
own
words
puts
in
doubt
the
image
of
the
IDF,
Israeli

Defense
Force,
as
an
army
that
acts
only
to
defend
and
to
react
to
enemy’s
aggression,
an

image
that
was
a
consensus
in
1982.

15

Ibid.
Episode
#4,
08:40

16

Ibid.
09:40

19

In
light
of
Perlov’s
intense
emphasis
on
identity
and
social
inequities,
I
tried
to
understand

more
about
his
own
background.
It
is
very
hard
to
glean
this
information
from
his
films
and
his

biographies
as
they
seem
to
intentionally
convey
few
details.
It
is
known
that
his
grandfather,

a
Hassidic
Jew
was
born
in
Palestine
(in
a
time
that
Jews
were
a
small
minority).
Perlov
was

born
in
Brazil.
Not
much
is
known
about
his
mother
nor
about
his
father
whom
he
met
only
a

few
times
during
his
lifetime.
His
stepmother,
Donna
Giomar

was
a
black
protestant
who

raised
him
on
Christian
values.
As
an
adolescent
he
was
active
in
the
Zionist
movements
in

Brazil.
Mira,
his
wife,
is
Polish,
she
arrived
in
Brazil
after
the
Second
World
War.

I
found
it
the
ambiguity
and
diversity
of
the
background
Perlov
foregrounds
to
be
very

interesting;
it
is
as
though
Perlov
resists
the
possibility
of
labeling
himself.
On
the
other
hand

it
seems
that
he
easily
identifies
with
the
different
ethnicities
and
social
classes.

Although
Perlov
refuses
to
tie
himself
to
any
specific
ethnic
group
he
is
forced
by
the
social

powers
to
belong
to
sides.
When
reacting
to
the
photos
of
the
Arab
child
“…seated,
he

salutes.
Standing
he
raises
his
hands
in
surrender”
,
“to
my
camera?”
he
is
deeply
disturbed

that
the
kid
reacts
to
him
as
though
he
is
an
Israeli
soldier
with
a
weapon.

The
first
sentence
of
the
diary
is
enigmatic:
“In
the
Lands
of
poverty
and
illiteracy
those
who

couldn’t
sign
their
names
had
two
crosses
signed
on
their
photographs:
name
and
surname”.

Wherever
Perlov’s
camera
goes
there
is
someone
else
that
takes
the
role
of
the
XX,
the

human
without
a
name
or
a
surname,
the
oppressed
other.
It
is
fascinating
to
make
meaning

20

of
the
social
power
structures
that
Perlov
portrays.

He
himself
was
raised
by
a
black
woman

in
provincial
Brazil,
then
became
a
part
of
a
certain
socialist
elite
that
employed
servants.

Afterwards
he
married
a
Jewish
Pole,
then
he
lived
as
a
Jew
in
post
war
Europe
and
then

became
a
citizen
of
Israel
a
land
of
constant
wars
and
occupation.

Perlov
conveys
his
own
life
as
a
cycle
of
being
at
times
the
oppressed
and
at
other
times
the

oppressor.

He
is
projecting
his
own
life
as
though
it
is
a
metaphor
of
an
tragic
human

condition
where
oppression
of

the
minority
or
the
weak
is
an
inseparable
part
of
the
social

structure.

21

The
Passive
Eye

At
the
beginning
of
the
second
episode
Perlov
goes
to
film
at
an
old
cemetery
of
the
first

pioneers.
He
meets

a
researcher
of
the
place
there.

This
scene
functions
very
differently

from
most
of
the
Diary,
as
Perlov
is
literally
going
out
of
his
way
for
his
research.
This
may
be

the
only
scene
in
the
Diary
which
is
shot
in
a
conventional
documentary
film
mode.

I
find
this

scene
especially
beautiful;
although
it
is
packed
with
symbolism
it
remains
lyrical
and
open

ended.
It
could
be
that
this
scene
touched
me
because
my
grandparents
are
buried
in
a
very

similar
graveyard.

The
researcher
shows
Perlov
the
graves.

Many
belong
to
very
young
people
who
committed

suicide
or
to
others
that
died
at
a
young
age
by
work
related
accidents,
attacked
by
a
bull
or

run
over
by
a
tractor.

At
the
edge
of
the
cemetery
the
old
people
are
buried,
those
who
died

naturally.

By
the
traditional
Jewish
burial
rules,
people
who
commit
suicide
are
supposed
to

be
buried
outside
of
the
cemetery’s
fence.
Suicide
is
one
of
the
worst
sins
possible
and
here

there
is
a
Jewish
graveyard
where
suicide
is
not
only
not
condemned
but
almost
honored.
The

pioneers
of
this
graveyard
arrived
from
Europe
at
young
age.
They
rebelled
against
their

parents
and
the
generations
before
who
were
strict
orthodox.
As
opposed
to
their
ancestors

who
were
very
religious
and
lived
an
isolated
life
dedicated
to
studying
and
praying,
they
were

atheist
socialists
who
came
to
work
their
own
land
in
Israel.
They
believed
in
taking
fate
in
to

their
own
hands,
abandoning
the
traditional
life
and
taking
on
modernist
national
social

22

ideology
while
turning
away
from
a
passive
life
that
was
devoted
to
prayer
and
god
in
order
to

embark
in
an
active
life
of
agriculture
and
arms.
This
transition,
from
European
Jewish

passivity
to
the
Israeli
Jewish
activism
is
a
large
part
of
the
Zionist
ethos
in
Israel.
It
is
the

attitude
that
I
and
most
Israelis
grew
up
with
at
home,
at
school,
in
youth
movements
and
in

the
army.

Perlov
tours
this
graveyard
and
is
astonished
by
the
pioneers’
treatment
of
the
dead
and
the

new
values
that
they
took
on
themselves
as
part
of
their
revolution.
He,
as
opposed
to
greater

Israeli
notion,
finds
the
new
values
to
be
unnatural,
almost
mutated
and
dangerous.
Perlov

wonders
about
the
elderly:
“Was
their
death
less
heroic,
less
tragic?

Was
heroism
confined
to

youth
alone?”
17

Later,
in
the
same
episode,
Perlov
watches
his
earlier
films.
He
shows
a
documentary
that
he

made
in
an
old
persons’
home
about
the
elderly.
Perlov
describes
the
reaction
of
the
public

media
to
the
film:
“the
socially
conscious
officials
said
that
I
was
making
an
unreal
film,

negative,
depressing.

Their
megalomania
lead
them
to
believe
that
age
can
be
reversed,

death
was
denied
by
bureaucracy
alone.
They
commissioned
no
more
films
from
me”
18
.

It
is
interesting
that
between
the
scene
of
the
graveyard
and
that
of
the
old
persons’
home

there
is
a
part
where
Perlov
goes
to
an
optometrist
who
examines
his
aging
eyes.
I
feel
that

17

Diary.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
1973-‐1983.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2007.
Episode
#2,
03:50

18

Ibid.
27:30

23

Perlov
is
trying
to
make
the
connection
between
the
sight
and
age.
It
is
as
though
Perlov
is

emphasizing
the
value
of
observation,
long
termed
observation.
To
the
pioneers
the
old
were

weak,
a
burden,
for
Perlov
they
are
the
socially
wise.

Perlov
often
quoted
the
Israeli
poet
Dalia
Rabinovitch
saying,
“faced
with
reality
the
only
flag
I

can
raise
is
the
white
flag”
19
.
The
surrender
in
his
perception
becomes
a
way
of
resistance.

The
analogy
to
war
is
often
used
by
Perlov
when
describing
his
artistic
practice.
One
of
the

strongest
examples
of
this
is
in
Diary,
after
The
Yom
Kippur
war
ends,
when
he
declares:
“I

19

Perlov,
Mira
and
Chodorov
Pip
eds.
David
Perlov’s
Diary.
Paris.
RE:Voir.
2006.
Page6

24

have
decided
to
change
my
way
of
filmmaking,
to
film
through
the
window
of
my
house
as
if

through
a
spy
hole
of
a
tank”.
The
camera
is
transformed
into
his
own
private
weapon;
he

believes
that
it
is
his
way
of
rejecting
the
aggression
manifested
by
his
own
country.
To
Perlov

the
only
way
to
fight
back
power
is
to
remain
at
home
and
observe.
This
explains
even
further

the
identification,
empathy
and
sometimes
even
admiration
that
Perlov
holds
towards

minorities
and
the
oppressed
(described
in
chapter
2).

These
underclasses,
by
being
rejected
from
active
power
sources
have
a
better
position
of

observing,
of
understanding
truth.
This
relates
to
the
elderly
as
well.

Surrender
as
a
power
position
and
being
weak
as
place
for
understanding
explains
much
of

the
logic
that
motivates
Diary.

Diary
is
a
result
of
Perlov
depression
that
is
itself
a

consequence
of
his
works
being
dismissed
by
the
Israeli
institutions.
In
Diary
there
is
an

understanding
that
this
could
turn
into
leverage.

Not
being
ordered
and
limited
by
commissions,
Diary
adapts
a
“passive”
state.
The
camera

acts
as
a
documenting
machine,
not
striving
to
depict
any
changes
or
plots,
almost
as
though

reality
builds
the
film
instead
of
the
film
building
reality.
The

“active”
movie,
the
plotted
and

produced
film
suddenly
seems
to
have
an
irrational
logic
similar
to
that
of
the
pioneers
that

praised
young
people
who
saw
themselves
as
revolutionaries
and
wanted
to
control
their

future.
This
is
the
reason
why
Diary
covers
10
years
and
is
6
hours
long,
it
adapts
the
sight
of

the
old.
A
sight
that
knows
that
reality
is
stronger
than
the
will
of
the
independent
or
of
the

society
and
accepts
a
kind
of
passive
mode.
As
though
all
there
is
to
do
is
observe
reality
and

gradually
collect
knowledge.

25

Conclusion

Perlov’s
Diary
has
been
known
and
discussed
among
very
narrow
circles
of
Israeli
filmmakers,

artists
and
academics
since
it
was
finished
in
1985.

It
has
been
only
acknowledged
by
the

wider
public
since
2006
when
it
was
purchased
by
the
Pompidou
Museum.
In
2007
the
16mm

film
was
restored,
transferred
into
DVD

and
finally
released
as
a
box
set
to
video
and
book

stores.
Although
Diary
was
filmed
almost
30
years
ago
the
interest
in
it
is
only
recent..

I
never
saw
Perlov’s
films
while
I
was
in
Israel.
It
was
only
when
I
arrived
in
Los
Angeles
before

starting
my
MFA
that
I
saw
his
films.
Perlov’s
films
shook
me.
I
felt
that
Diary
was
confirming

and
articulating
feelings
I
had
always
had
about
art
and
specifically
art
in
Israel.

As
a
photographer
who
comes
out
of
a
context
of

contemporary
film
and
art,
I
had
the

assumption
that
photography
and
art
are
inherently
manipulative
and
that
the
only
relation

to
reality
that
might
raise
from
art
is

trickery
.
It
was
Perlov’s
films
that
complicated
my

assumptions.
I
don’t
think
that
Perlov
would
disagree
with
my

position
but
he
would
insist

that
art
and
photography
have
the
power
to
raise
a
truth
and
to
depict
a
reality.
This
is
not
a

naïve
thought.
It
comes
from
a
filmmaker
who
is
deeply
invested
in
narrative
cinema.
Perlov’s

stance
is
powerful
because
he
has
a
thorough
understanding
of
the
camera’s
capabilities.

It
is

the
camera’s
power
to
falsify
reality
which
also
allows
it
to
depict
a
reality
so
well.
To
Perlov’s

26

camera
there
is
a
truth
and
the
struggle
of
the
artist
is
to
portray
it,
to
build
a
structure
for
it.

It
is
Perlov’s
Diary
that
brought
to
my
understanding
sincerity
as
an
artistic
value.

Diary
manifests
a
belief
that
art
should
hold
within
a
rejection
to
the
institutional.
It
is
Perlov

‘s
alienation
that
makes
the
rejection
absolutely
total
and
precisely
expressed.
In
the

beginning
of
the
film
the
Yom
Kippur
war
starts
and
his
denunciation
of
the
political
reality

becomes
very
clear
but
in
order
to
situate
himself
outside
of
official
national
perceptions
he

starts
questioning
and
rejecting
his
own
world.
Perlov
starts
doubting
his
cinematic

background,
he
turns
away
from
the
people
who
previously
supported
him
and
commissioned

his
works.
He
even
changes
his
relations
to
his
own
family.
It
is
as
though
in
order
to
be
able

to
criticize
the
world
you
must
become
completely
independent
of
anything
that
is

established.

While
writing
this
work
I
have
thought
a
lot
about
how
Diary
would
be
interpreted
if
it
had

been
created
today.
I
wonder
what
is
the
relevancy
of
Diary’s
tactics
in
the
contemporary

world.

A
world
where
images
are
abundant,
where
the
small
and
simple
cameras
have
turned

the
photography
of
personal
daily
life
into
the
obvious.
I
wondered
if
I
found
Diary
so

significant
only
because
it
relates
to
a
certain
history
that
interests
me
or
because
it
has

artistic
values
that
are
relevant
to
the
current
times.

In
today’s
world
where
the
shelf
life
of
an
artwork,
an
artist
or
an
idea
has
become
radically

compressed,
where
the
ties
between
an
artwork
and
its
immediate
economic
success
are

stronger
than
ever,
the
Diary
is
very
significant.
Diary
cannot
be
seen
as
a
body
of
work
but
as

27

one
piece
that
represents
a
commitment
of
many
years.
It
is
the
careful
editing
of
the
film

that
formulates
an
agenda
that
is
not
affected
by
temporary
movements.
Diary
depicts
the

author
as
a
subject
who
is
much
more
than
an
artist
participating
in
a
momentary
artistic

trend
but
a
man
living
in
the
world
and
being
affected
by
it.

Making
art
in
a
reality
where
the
artwork
is
a
commodity
that
rarely
has
the
possibility
to

comment
about
the
political
is
a
challenge
that
I
often
think
of.

Perlov
in
his
long
span
work

has
tied
together
the
historical,
the
political
and
the
aesthetic
in
a
way
that
I
find
inspiring
and

ever
so
relevant.

28

Bibliography

Diary.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
1973-‐1983.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2007.

My
Stills.
Dir.
David
Perlov.
2003.
DVD.
Re:Voir,
Paris.
2006.

Vigodar,
Meir,
David
Perlov:
Yoman
Ve’yomanim.
Theory
and
critique
no.18.
2001

Vigodar,
Meir,
Zilom
Rechov
Ve’hayomiom,
Perlov
Keover
Orach.
Studio
no.
113.
2000

Ne’eman,
Judd,
The
Jar
and
the
Blade:
Fertility
Myth
and
Medieval
Romance
in
Israeli
Political

Films.
Prooftexts
No.
22.
2002

Ne’eman
Judd,
The
Death
Mask
of
the
Moderns:
A
Genealogy
of
New
SensibilityCinema
in

Israel.
Israel
Studies
Vol
4.
1999

Hazan,
Asaf.
Roze
Lezalem
Od.
Maarav
2009

Gilad
Meltzer,
When
I
finish
photographing,
the
walls
turn
dead,
7
Nights
Yediot

Acharonot,
14
April
2000

Abstract (if available)

Abstract May 1973, I buy a camera, I want to start filming by myself and for myself. Professional cinema does no longer attract me. To look for something else, I want to approach the everyday, above all, in anonymity. It takes time to learn how to do it. ❧ This is how David Perlov’s six hour film Diary starts, it ends in 1983. The film depicts a portrait of the artist and his family in Tel Aviv where he lives, in Sao Paolo where he grew up, and in Paris where he got his cultural and cinema education during his 20s. ❧ Throughout this time Perlov’s two twin daughters get drafted to the army, major governmental changes happens and two wars erupt. Perlov surveys the world from his very ordinary point of view, searching for information from the windows that surround him: photographing his loved ones change, filming his television, obsessively looking at the street out his window and trying to understand subtle transformations. Perlov becomes no more than a viewer of the world, he situates himself almost as a victim of time and circumstance. ❧ The Diary is a result of a crisis. A crisis that is a combination of personal depression, dissatisfaction with his love for cinema and a real difficulty to integrate into Israeli society especially with its problematic political reality. ❧ Less then a minute into the film, the camera finds Naomi, his daughter, inviting him to join her for a soup

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