The film is one of silences, highlighting the pauses between words and the spaces we ordinarily might not look. How did you decide on your subtle approach?
This question reminded me of Mozart's quote: "Music is not in the notes, but in the silence between." I wanted to make a poetic documentary where the subjective interpretation of the subject is included, in which individual characters and events remain undeveloped in favor of emphasizing a particular atmosphere and meaning, emphasizing metaphors, and in a word, sticking to a more symbolic than a narrative flow. I wouldn't have enough energy and love to last 4 years (that's how long it took me to make a film) if I didn't perceive the film as a philosophical-poetic expression. Presenting mere reality and portraying it would not be able to coexist with me for a more extended period in which it is necessary to remain coherent from the beginning to the end of the whole process. The subtle approach itself, as you call it, required immense patience and love to bring forth something new from the world of abstraction and, at the same time, empirically based.
Film still from At the Door of the House Who Will Come Knocking
The landscape is of such extreme whiteness–empty and yet all consuming. Did this natural blank canvas influence the film’s psychological nature?
Absolutely! From the start, I knew it would be set in a winter landscape dominated by a cold, monochrome palette, with stark contrasts between light and dark. These cold colors are crucial as they convey sorrow, emptiness, isolation and explore the inner, intangible dimensions. When considering the choice of film camera, I thought of those with a less colorful, colder color spectrum.
Could you tell us about some of the inspirations for symbols and metaphors you drew from in art?
The inspiration for the film’s title draws from Gaston Bachelard’s “The Poetics of Space,” where he captures the essence of the meaning of home in a person’s life. He said: “In the life of a man, the house thrusts aside contingencies, its councils of continuity are unceasing. Without it, man would be a dispersed being. It maintains him through the storms of the heavens and through those of life. It is body and soul. It is the human being’s first world.” At the beginning of the chapter with the above quote, there’s a verse from Pierre Alber Birot’s poem “Les Amusements Naturels” that resonates:
“At the door of the house who will come knocking?
An open door, we enter
A closed door, a den
The world pulse beats beyond my door.”
Regarding specific paintings that inspired At the Door of the House..., I drew on several artists. Van Gogh’s lithograph Sorrowing Old Man (‘At Eternity’s Gate’, 1882), depicting loneliness and sorrow, was a significant influence, and so were Rembrandt’s portraits and Caravaggio’s masterful use of light and shadow. Additionally, the winter landscapes of Serbian painter Sava Šumanović were fascinating for observing the shadows, color and atmosphere.
Film still from At the Door of the House Who Will Come Knocking
The mundane is made magical, the white landscape is cut by the vibrant kilim, and the viewer feels an intimacy despite the film being full of isolation. How do you interpret the film’s contradictions?
If you experienced the film that way, I can say that I captured a part of life through the camera. Many contents and essences are often at the epicenter of contradictions. The carpet as a refuge represents “spring,” inspired by the symbolism of carpets found in Iranian art and Sassanid fabrics. “If the Mesopotamian plain became even gloomier before winter than it usually was under the summer sun, one would settle on his famous ‘winter carpet’ and live there, in a way, and dine on it because it gave away the impression of spring. ... This is where the carpet comes from: a flourishing garden, so common in Iranian literature but rare in nature, and an Eastern love of colors; a natural reaction to the desperate monotony of their landscapes.” This symbolism provided me with many answers. I intended for the kilim shown in the film to be a motif of Emin’s, mine, and our collective spring amidst the monochrome wave of coldness that sometimes splashes into our lives. The kilim he carries around is a simulacrum of spring, holding its place until the true spring arrives and drops its balls of yarn to the ground.
Film still from At the Door of the House Who Will Come Knocking
Somehow, watching the isolated life of a single man reveals something universal. Could you elaborate on how this film touches on general human connection?
Tokyo is one of the most populated cities but has the loneliest people. (There’s that contradiction again.) We all live with ourselves. It was interesting to reflect on the question: "Who are you when you are by yourself?" I wanted to include nature as an entity as a faithful companion in that content. The cyclicality of time, nature, and everything—our lives or an apple’s life—a central and universal theme. The cyclic nature of the world always leads to spring, offering a sense of renewal and hope. We could even say that the main characters in this film are Father Time and Mother Nature.
Interview by Mia Breuer
