Mariano Donoso

A teacher with a blank notebook -the great Liliana Bodoc- arrives at a school in the middle of the desert behind the trail of the Huarpes. As in her books, Bodoc speaks to the children frankly about important things—water, the wind, death. Although, rather than speaking to them, she asks them—she looks into their stories and invites them to give shape to their ideas. But Lagunas is not exactly a documentary about Liliana Bodoc; it’s about lots of things—about the ghosts that inhabit a territory, about the bridges between generations, about memory. In Lagunas there are curious children, there are teachers and shamans, there are bodies buried in the sand, there is a culture and a language that refuse to become extinct. There is a filmmaker who, as he records, asks himself about his memories and about the memories he is leaving to his children. And there is also a writer who proves that in order to write, first you have to know how to listen.

There was once, in 1910, a train able to cross the wild territories between Argentina and Chile, making possible a mythical journey, joining two oceans with a single ticket, from Buenos Aires to Valparaiso. The last trip of the BAP was in 1979; in the nineties, its various branches were permanently abandoned. Since then, travelers have been inhabiting the railway landscape as they dream, desire, remember or yearn: as part of their own being and national history.

There was once, in 1910, a train able to cross the wild territories between Argentina and Chile, making possible a mythical journey, joining two oceans with a single ticket, from Buenos Aires to Valparaiso. The last trip of the BAP was in 1979; in the nineties, its various branches were permanently abandoned. Since then, travelers have been inhabiting the railway landscape as they dream, desire, remember or yearn: as part of their own being and national history.

There was once, in 1910, a train able to cross the wild territories between Argentina and Chile, making possible a mythical journey, joining two oceans with a single ticket, from Buenos Aires to Valparaiso. The last trip of the BAP was in 1979; in the nineties, its various branches were permanently abandoned. Since then, travelers have been inhabiting the railway landscape as they dream, desire, remember or yearn: as part of their own being and national history.

There was once, in 1910, a train able to cross the wild territories between Argentina and Chile, making possible a mythical journey, joining two oceans with a single ticket, from Buenos Aires to Valparaiso. The last trip of the BAP was in 1979; in the nineties, its various branches were permanently abandoned. Since then, travelers have been inhabiting the railway landscape as they dream, desire, remember or yearn: as part of their own being and national history.

There was once, in 1910, a train able to cross the wild territories between Argentina and Chile, making possible a mythical journey, joining two oceans with a single ticket, from Buenos Aires to Valparaiso. The last trip of the BAP was in 1979; in the nineties, its various branches were permanently abandoned. Since then, travelers have been inhabiting the railway landscape as they dream, desire, remember or yearn: as part of their own being and national history.

"Radiography of the desert" pretends to be, by extrapolation, what "Radiography of the pampa" (the 1933 book by Ezequiel Martínez Estrada) was for the humid and fertile area of the country. The documentary, filmed in the Lavalle drylands and the Andean foothills, observes several characters and their jobs related to the most arid areas of the province of Mendoza: a pilot who enters the summer storms, bombarding the clouds with silver iodide to prevent hail from damaging crops; a fisherman from the Nihuil lagoon who barely survives in a polluted dam; a family of wells who build cisterns and irrigation wells in rural desert areas; and a geographer in search of Francisco de Hoces's journey.

Three decades later, the San Juan Civic Center construction project is back on track and, as if nothing had happened, the bureaucratic machinery seems to be united with the cranes and the human force and the megalomaniac desire that such an undertaking supposes. There, in that interruption and that return to activity, in the pharaonic recovery of lost dreams and projects that suddenly come back to life –as if they were architectural zombies–, there Mariano Donoso sees a movie.

Three decades later, the San Juan Civic Center construction project is back on track and, as if nothing had happened, the bureaucratic machinery seems to be united with the cranes and the human force and the megalomaniac desire that such an undertaking supposes. There, in that interruption and that return to activity, in the pharaonic recovery of lost dreams and projects that suddenly come back to life –as if they were architectural zombies–, there Mariano Donoso sees a movie.

Three decades later, the San Juan Civic Center construction project is back on track and, as if nothing had happened, the bureaucratic machinery seems to be united with the cranes and the human force and the megalomaniac desire that such an undertaking supposes. There, in that interruption and that return to activity, in the pharaonic recovery of lost dreams and projects that suddenly come back to life –as if they were architectural zombies–, there Mariano Donoso sees a movie.

Three decades later, the San Juan Civic Center construction project is back on track and, as if nothing had happened, the bureaucratic machinery seems to be united with the cranes and the human force and the megalomaniac desire that such an undertaking supposes. There, in that interruption and that return to activity, in the pharaonic recovery of lost dreams and projects that suddenly come back to life –as if they were architectural zombies–, there Mariano Donoso sees a movie.

In July 2002, an American Producer comissions director Mariano Donoso a documentary on the state of Education in San Juan, the province where he was born. On the first day of filming, a teachers’ strike begins, paralyzing classes in the whole province, and – indirectly – the film itself. Donoso consequently embarks on an odyssey (which is sometimes funny and sometimes sad), through the past and present of his homeland. Stikes, claims, Sarmiento, the earthquake, the province’s bureocracy and its relationship with Buenos Aires, and finally, the desert, await for Donoso in his venturesome journey.

In July 2002, an American Producer comissions director Mariano Donoso a documentary on the state of Education in San Juan, the province where he was born. On the first day of filming, a teachers’ strike begins, paralyzing classes in the whole province, and – indirectly – the film itself. Donoso consequently embarks on an odyssey (which is sometimes funny and sometimes sad), through the past and present of his homeland. Stikes, claims, Sarmiento, the earthquake, the province’s bureocracy and its relationship with Buenos Aires, and finally, the desert, await for Donoso in his venturesome journey.

In July 2002, an American Producer comissions director Mariano Donoso a documentary on the state of Education in San Juan, the province where he was born. On the first day of filming, a teachers’ strike begins, paralyzing classes in the whole province, and – indirectly – the film itself. Donoso consequently embarks on an odyssey (which is sometimes funny and sometimes sad), through the past and present of his homeland. Stikes, claims, Sarmiento, the earthquake, the province’s bureocracy and its relationship with Buenos Aires, and finally, the desert, await for Donoso in his venturesome journey.

In July 2002, an American Producer comissions director Mariano Donoso a documentary on the state of Education in San Juan, the province where he was born. On the first day of filming, a teachers’ strike begins, paralyzing classes in the whole province, and – indirectly – the film itself. Donoso consequently embarks on an odyssey (which is sometimes funny and sometimes sad), through the past and present of his homeland. Stikes, claims, Sarmiento, the earthquake, the province’s bureocracy and its relationship with Buenos Aires, and finally, the desert, await for Donoso in his venturesome journey.

In July 2002, an American Producer comissions director Mariano Donoso a documentary on the state of Education in San Juan, the province where he was born. On the first day of filming, a teachers’ strike begins, paralyzing classes in the whole province, and – indirectly – the film itself. Donoso consequently embarks on an odyssey (which is sometimes funny and sometimes sad), through the past and present of his homeland. Stikes, claims, Sarmiento, the earthquake, the province’s bureocracy and its relationship with Buenos Aires, and finally, the desert, await for Donoso in his venturesome journey.