Synopsis: Translating tells about the journey of words from a language to another. Translators are used to face words, to follow their traces and force them into new spaces. Translators have to master not only a language but also what’s behind it: an entire culture and an idea of the world; that’s why we have asked ten translators to come with us in this journey through words and languages and take us to discover these worlds. Every language is a sound and the translator is a sort of musician. We find a musical instrument beside every language: conservatory students try to perform the same sheet of music translating the same melody into their own instrument. Language is also a mixture and the translator is a baker who prepares the bread everyday. In every country we can find different shapes of bread, made by the same ingredients. Language, like bread, is an alchemy we put on the table and eat everyday. To make this documentary, I put translators together with musicians and bakers. Each of them tells about an aspect of translating. The translator at his desk explains its deep sense, the musician with his own instrument makes us listen to the sound, the night baker reveals his mixture.
Mostrando postagens com marcador documentary. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador documentary. Mostrar todas as postagens
sábado, 3 de setembro de 2011
segunda-feira, 29 de agosto de 2011
Tradurre - Documentary on translation
Director: Pier Paolo Giarolo
Producer: Outroad Di Pier Paolo Giarolo
Genre: Documentary
Produced In: 2008
Story Teller's Country: Italy
Synopsis: Translating tells about the journey of words from a language to another. Translators are used to face words, to follow their traces and force them into new spaces. Translators have to master not only a language but also what’s behind it: an entire culture and an idea of the world; that’s why we have asked ten translators to come with us in this journey through words and languages and take us to discover these worlds. Every language is a sound and the translator is a sort of musician. We find a musical instrument beside every language: conservatory students try to perform the same sheet of music translating the same melody into their own instrument. Language is also a mixture and the translator is a baker who prepares the bread everyday. In every country we can find different shapes of bread, made by the same ingredients. Language, like bread, is an alchemy we put on the table and eat everyday. To make this documentary, I put translators together with musicians and bakers. Each of them tells about an aspect of translating. The translator at his desk explains its deep sense, the musician with his own instrument makes us listen to the sound, the night baker reveals his mixture.
Tradurre
terça-feira, 8 de fevereiro de 2011
Traduire - Translation is the focus in the final part of Nurith Aviv's documentary trilogy exploring language and linguistics
Jaques Mandelbaum
If there is one field that has not waited for the global market before dispersing worldwide it must be knowledge. People from all backgrounds have been sharing and disseminating learning for ages. Among their number, one particular category – translators – stands out, for without them such exchanges could not happen. In her latest film Nurith Aviv focuses on these passionate bridge-builders, men and women who shun the limelight to spread the written word.
Aviv was born in Israel and started working as a lead camera operator in 1969. Since 1989 she has devoted all her time to documentaries and in the last 10 years she has concentrated on written and spoken Hebrew, and all it involves beyond the reach of linguistics.
The first part of this project, completed in 2004, was Misafa Lesafa: From Language to Language. In it she talked to academics, writers and artists who, as is commonplace in a country with so many immigrants, had plenty to say about being bilingual and belonging to two cultures. This was followed, in 2008, by Langue Sacrée, Langue Parlée (sacred language, spoken language), which analysed the ambivalence of Hebrew, a modern vernacular reconstructed on the basis of a language that had long been set aside for study of the scriptures.
One of the principal merits of the first two parts of this trilogy was to remind us how much language, and consequently its speakers, are coloured by strangeness and open to outside influences: in short, language is both a crucible of meanings and a challenge to purity. Traduire (translate), which rounds off the project, continues this fine endeavour. Aviv talks to various Hebrew translators, modest titans labouring to open up new routes for a language that is historically, theologically and politically loaded.
More than 2,000 years after the first attempt (the Septuagint, the Hellenic Greek translation of the Old Testament by Jews in Alexandria), Hebrew translation is still a major challenge. Our admiration for those who engage in this task is all the greater.
In Brest, France, Sandrick Le Maguer is working on the Midrash (a Jewish commentary on biblical texts) in an effort to throw new light on the Gospel. In Boston, Massachusetts, Angel Saenz-Badillos is investigating the Iberian sources of medieval poets of the Spanish golden age. In Malakoff, west of Paris, Itskhok Niborski is compiling a dictionary of Hebrew idioms in Yiddish. Meanwhile in Tel Aviv, Sivan Beskin is trying to translate the work of the poet Lea Goldberg (1911-1970), a native of Lithuania, back into her mother tongue.
Aviv films these encounters carefully, taking time to listen to each translator in the half-light of their offices, bringing surprisingly passionate ideas to the surface. In Barcelona, Manuel Forcano, who has translated the poet Yehuda Amichai (1924‑2000) into Catalan, acknowledges that the writer has influenced his own poetry. In Acre, Ala Hlehel, the Palestinian translator of the playwright Hanoch Levin (1943-99), explains how he must "murder the language of the father" to render the concise Hebrew wording into flowery classical Arabic.
Traduire, a polyglot exploration of the flesh of language, finds room in its erudite enterprise to explore sensibilities.
This article originally appeared in Le Monde
The guardian
If there is one field that has not waited for the global market before dispersing worldwide it must be knowledge. People from all backgrounds have been sharing and disseminating learning for ages. Among their number, one particular category – translators – stands out, for without them such exchanges could not happen. In her latest film Nurith Aviv focuses on these passionate bridge-builders, men and women who shun the limelight to spread the written word.
Aviv was born in Israel and started working as a lead camera operator in 1969. Since 1989 she has devoted all her time to documentaries and in the last 10 years she has concentrated on written and spoken Hebrew, and all it involves beyond the reach of linguistics.
The first part of this project, completed in 2004, was Misafa Lesafa: From Language to Language. In it she talked to academics, writers and artists who, as is commonplace in a country with so many immigrants, had plenty to say about being bilingual and belonging to two cultures. This was followed, in 2008, by Langue Sacrée, Langue Parlée (sacred language, spoken language), which analysed the ambivalence of Hebrew, a modern vernacular reconstructed on the basis of a language that had long been set aside for study of the scriptures.
One of the principal merits of the first two parts of this trilogy was to remind us how much language, and consequently its speakers, are coloured by strangeness and open to outside influences: in short, language is both a crucible of meanings and a challenge to purity. Traduire (translate), which rounds off the project, continues this fine endeavour. Aviv talks to various Hebrew translators, modest titans labouring to open up new routes for a language that is historically, theologically and politically loaded.
More than 2,000 years after the first attempt (the Septuagint, the Hellenic Greek translation of the Old Testament by Jews in Alexandria), Hebrew translation is still a major challenge. Our admiration for those who engage in this task is all the greater.
In Brest, France, Sandrick Le Maguer is working on the Midrash (a Jewish commentary on biblical texts) in an effort to throw new light on the Gospel. In Boston, Massachusetts, Angel Saenz-Badillos is investigating the Iberian sources of medieval poets of the Spanish golden age. In Malakoff, west of Paris, Itskhok Niborski is compiling a dictionary of Hebrew idioms in Yiddish. Meanwhile in Tel Aviv, Sivan Beskin is trying to translate the work of the poet Lea Goldberg (1911-1970), a native of Lithuania, back into her mother tongue.
Aviv films these encounters carefully, taking time to listen to each translator in the half-light of their offices, bringing surprisingly passionate ideas to the surface. In Barcelona, Manuel Forcano, who has translated the poet Yehuda Amichai (1924‑2000) into Catalan, acknowledges that the writer has influenced his own poetry. In Acre, Ala Hlehel, the Palestinian translator of the playwright Hanoch Levin (1943-99), explains how he must "murder the language of the father" to render the concise Hebrew wording into flowery classical Arabic.
Traduire, a polyglot exploration of the flesh of language, finds room in its erudite enterprise to explore sensibilities.
This article originally appeared in Le Monde
The guardian
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