Jonas Mekas: REMINISCES OF A JOURNEY TO LITHUANIA

Note: in case you visited this page from another link, this is a continuation of an article on a weekend-long retrospective of Jonas Mekas’ films. Here is the link to start at Page 1

---

Before we screened Reminisces of a Journey to Lithuania (1971), Mekas comically recounted how it got made. Zukov from La Pravda had come to New York to meet him. Because of his run-in with the government in the 1960s, he was mistakenly considered to be a Communist filmmaker. He invited Mekas back to Russia. He accepted, only on the condition that he could go to Lithuania (still under Soviet rule) to visit his home… and that he was going to make a movie there. Thinking Mekas was going to make something like Russia’s “tractor” films of the 1930s, he offered Mekas a big crew and lots of gear. Jonas replied that all he needed was his Bolex and himself. So the film was made, all while the crew sat around well out of camera range. And when the “powers that be” saw the finished film, they hated it.

Some of the scenes in Lithuania were also used in Lost Lost Lost (a similar feeling of deja vu occurs between He Stands in the Desert and Scenes from the Life of Andy Warhol).Reminisces begins with much the same territory of Lost Lost Lost (and also has title cards vaguely describing the action), but in the narration, Mekas seems to give over more of himself.

We first see vague echoes of the Mekas’ early life in New York– their Williamsburg residence in Brooklyn (“Henry Miller grew up here”) in 1950 opens the film on a rather deceptive note. Then the next segment reveals the poignant drama which would be the film.

“Gathering of DPs in Brooklyn” (1951) features his fellow Lithuanians dancing and singing, sitting on the grass: as a counterpoint, Mekas says on the soundtrack, “They looked like sad, dying criminals, in a place they didn’t belong to… they were completely somewhere else.”

Mekas also briefly mentions his first filmmaking prospects. In the sequence “1950- After My First Bolex”, he mentions he wanted to make a film about war (and we see what that first film actually was in Lost Lost Lost). This is followed by the odd intertitle, “Parentheses Closed”.

The following segment, “DPs At Pier 21” (1950), Mekas admits that the world is full of displaced persons. Perhaps this is a cryptic way of accepting one’s new home? In “1952”, Jonas and Adolfas pose for the camera. These two disparate moments converge for the drama of the rest of the film.

Having lived and worked in the New York film community for the next twenty years, the Mekas brothers decided to return home, and what follows is the footage that Jonas shot on his bittersweet journey (Adolfas also shot footage, for his own film on this voyage).

“100 Glimpses of Lithuania” (1971) is the film’s main sequence, in which diaristic segments are separated by numbers (recalling Peter Greenaway’s game of a film, Drowning by Numbers, in which one wonders where the next number pops up). However these numbered sequences only go up to 91! Perhaps these chapter inserts (as usual, black numbers on beige background) were done as a game to Mekas himself in post production- a way to see if he had enough footage to make it to 100. There is little to differentiate each sequence. I wanted to ask Mekas about this; however, since this was the last film to be shown on the weekend, he only stayed to introduce the picture, then left for the airport. I had since read an article by Mekas about the making of that film, and this curious thing is not mentioned there either.

The sequences at first appear to be clearly defined: kids, flowers, fields, farms, bales, and small rural settings each dominate their own in the first six “chapters”. And then the subjects of the remaining sequences fuzzily overlap. Chapter 7 is of course the most poignant: “Mama, Born 1887”, followed by the image of Mekas’ octogenarian mother, whom he had not seen for 25 years.

Slowly, more members of the Mekas family (his sister and three more brothers) appear through the picture. This filmic reunion takes equal screen time showing the Lithuanians’ love of land, song and humour and tinges it with somber memories of war and displacement.

Curiously missing from this film is footage of everyone embracing upon reuniting after 25 years. Instead everyone poses as if the Bolex was merely taking snapshots (save for some very candid moments of horseplay and singing)– itself a durable record of this occasion, but that seems to be too private to show. Regardless, it is a very humourous and moving film.

Mekas’ deliberately primitive approach is perfect for this material. Because he shot the film strictly with his Bolex (and without any gear that the Russians had offered him), everything is shot with available light, and inevitably, some scenes are underexposed. Yet these moments compliment the earthy tones and the old world setting. Also, the soundtrack is not mixed– instead, the music or diegetic sound will stop abruptly for the narration to begin. However, the filming style isn’t as rigid as that of a snapshot. The images are compulsive viewing, with the slightly agitated rhythm and flashes of white to keep the momentum alive.

Above all, it is a film about robust people who still live off the land. Mama stills cooks on a clay stove outdoors, even though she has a modern one inside. Several times she is seen preparing a feast, making bread and gathering berries or ruta seeds. One wonders if this country has changed at all in 25 years: there numerous shots of trees, forests, livestock, dirt roads and farms. There are numerous sequences which feature non-synced audio of him and his family singing and dancing (“When 2 or more Lithuanians get together, they sing”). The closest that things come to a Russian tractor film is a collective work song heard during some footage of farmers in the field.

Yet, there is still a sadness underneath. Mekas’ narration offers some ironic counterpoint over these placid images (“What does one do after 25 years?”), and also the ghosts of the past come calling. At segment 54, “Parentheses” appears on a title card, and Jonas recounts on the side of his time when he worked for an underground newspaper. Then, “Parentheses closed” appears, and we’re back to more footage of livestock. A literal onscreen footnote.

Chapter 91 ends with a goodbye at the airport, yet nobody waves or embraces. Instead the tiny grey airplane waits on the runway until the rain passes. So ends the “ordered” sequence of the film, yet Mekas continues in his visitation by journeying to Vienna (where he fled 25 years previously).

“Part the Parentheses” begins these snippets. Jonas visits a grassy area where his labour camp used to be. (“Only grass remembers”.) Mekas lays on the ground where his bed would have been. Adolfas visits the Neunert Factory, where he used to work. (On the soundtrack we hear him talking to the foreman, who remembers him from a quarter century ago) Then, students point to the camera laughing. (“Run children” is hear on the audio– filmmakers are too subversive, I guess) “Parentheses closed”.

Mekas reunites with filmmaker Peter Kubelka (wearing a Catholic robe, he is dubbed “Saint Peter”). They go to feed birds, and visit wine cellars while the audio mentions Jonas’ envy of Peter’s peace (what converse lack of peace is Mekas referring to– his memories, or his hectic lifestyle?). Similarly, when he meets Ken Jacobs, Mekas (enviously?) says that he has remained a child.

Finally, this attempt at closure does not end successfully. “On the way back we saw Vienna burning” is followed by an image of a fruit market on fire. Kubelka said someone probably set it alight to put in a new market. An interesting anecdote, but a subtly moving way of showing that one cannot completely come home again. Something blocks the way.

An audience member asked if Mekas has since returned to Lithuania, and he replied that he hates travelling (another reason why his visit to Toronto was such a rare privilege), but he does go there every couple of years. The ever-busy Mekas added that his job is to follow the money, and Lithuania has none!