Films
Competitions
About us
04–21˚ november’24
films
competitions
About us
04–21˚ november’24
2023
2023
Over this gap, we can talk but drift apart so easily.
Over this gap, we can look into each other's eyes but with a screen between us.
Over this gap, we can cry but we can't heal our most painful wounds.
This gap, it forces us to feel what we've lost, not lived through, not yet fully reflected upon.
Over this gap, we can look into each other's eyes but with a screen between us.
Over this gap, we can cry but we can't heal our most painful wounds.
This gap, it forces us to feel what we've lost, not lived through, not yet fully reflected upon.
Over this gap, the time changes its course, time zones, languages, Latin and Cyrillic alphabets entangled.
Over this gap, we stop converting Belarusian rubles to euro and back.
Over this gap between us, there are criminal cases, paranoia and excessive caution.
We are divided into
those who left
and those
who stayed. Yet we're still, like before, one fearless nation.
Over this gap, we stop converting Belarusian rubles to euro and back.
Over this gap between us, there are criminal cases, paranoia and excessive caution.
We are divided into
those who left
and those
who stayed. Yet we're still, like before, one fearless nation.
Over this gap, the very word Minsk triggers nostalgia for some,
others get nostalgic about visas in a blue passport.
Anyways, over this gap, we try to stay alert
When crossing the border or posting on social media.
others get nostalgic about visas in a blue passport.
Anyways, over this gap, we try to stay alert
When crossing the border or posting on social media.
Over this gap, we can sympathize but we can't heal our most painful wounds.
Attention. Doors open. Mind the gap.
Attention. Doors open. Mind the gap.
We consider every word we say, we try to be fair and less radical,
Mindful of the past and the future, of those who are close and those we've last seen long ago.
Albeit on a screen.
Mindful of the past and the future, of those who are close and those we've last seen long ago.
Albeit on a screen.
Over this gap, we're engulfed by doubts, drawn in by a whirlwind
of differences and comparisons, of clashing opinions.
We can't bridge this gap to hug, touch, feel togetherness.
This gap makes smells unavailable.
What it makes available is irritation, anger, envy.
In both directions,
here and there,
also at border checkpoints
such as Kotlovka, Kamenny Log and others.
Over this gap, we're looking for answers but questions are easier to come by.
Over this gap, we can't come to terms with this dull everyday life.
of differences and comparisons, of clashing opinions.
We can't bridge this gap to hug, touch, feel togetherness.
This gap makes smells unavailable.
What it makes available is irritation, anger, envy.
In both directions,
here and there,
also at border checkpoints
such as Kotlovka, Kamenny Log and others.
Over this gap, we're looking for answers but questions are easier to come by.
Over this gap, we can't come to terms with this dull everyday life.
THE MANIFESTO
THE MANIFESTO
THE MANIFESTO
MIND THE GAP
MIND THE GAP
MIND THE GAP
Founder and director of the Northern Lights Film Festival
Volia Chajkouskaya
MIND THE GAP
2022
2022
– Close the window, or you'll let mosquitoes in! - says grandmother in a worried manner. I comply and rush to the kitchen to eat some buns and drink some kisel. After that, I'm following my grandmother as a shadow and helping her feed the hens, pigs and our dog Barsik.
This is my home. It's a house in the Charopki village. There are eight families living in this village.
I don't know if I'll ever see this house again. And it's not just because after my grandmother's death my mother sold the house, and the new owners were so careless that they accidentally burned down the house… It's also because now it's not safe for me (along with many others) to return to Belarus.
One Belarusian writer posted on Instagram that "The ability to return is more important than the ability to leave". I couldn't agree more.
I've also been thinking that the Ukrainian filmmakers can return home and shoot movies there notwithstanding the grave danger of the war, while the Belarusian filmmakers can't return to a seemingly peaceful country. How so? What a Schroedinger's cat situation!..
It's unnerving to think about the gap between those who left Belarus and those who decided to stay. There is a strong desire to preserve the bond between all Belarusian people, regardless of where they happen to be now. I really want this distance to unite us during these trying times. At the moment, the only possibility for the "Northern Lights" not to lose "touch with reality", meaning those who stayed in Belarus, is to continue organizing the film festival, even though it's in an online format, thus communicating to Belarusians in and outside of Belarus that we are all one, and we all have a common goal.
Sometimes I call my mother and ask her:
– Mom, can you show me my books? I miss my books.
My mother laughs and tells me that I'm funny, but still shows me the bookshelf. And so I look at books of poetry by Baradulin and Buraukin, and at the "Voices from Chernobyl" by Sviatlana Aleksievich, all of them signed by the authors. I look at Valzhyna Mort's first book, and at Pavel Stsiazhko's "The Culture of the Language", a book that at some point opened my eyes at why the logic of the Belarusian language is how it is and not otherwise. I flip through the pages of the books of Tsiotka's poetry and Ursula Radzivil's plays in my mind.
This is my home. It's a house in the Charopki village. There are eight families living in this village.
I don't know if I'll ever see this house again. And it's not just because after my grandmother's death my mother sold the house, and the new owners were so careless that they accidentally burned down the house… It's also because now it's not safe for me (along with many others) to return to Belarus.
One Belarusian writer posted on Instagram that "The ability to return is more important than the ability to leave". I couldn't agree more.
I've also been thinking that the Ukrainian filmmakers can return home and shoot movies there notwithstanding the grave danger of the war, while the Belarusian filmmakers can't return to a seemingly peaceful country. How so? What a Schroedinger's cat situation!..
It's unnerving to think about the gap between those who left Belarus and those who decided to stay. There is a strong desire to preserve the bond between all Belarusian people, regardless of where they happen to be now. I really want this distance to unite us during these trying times. At the moment, the only possibility for the "Northern Lights" not to lose "touch with reality", meaning those who stayed in Belarus, is to continue organizing the film festival, even though it's in an online format, thus communicating to Belarusians in and outside of Belarus that we are all one, and we all have a common goal.
Sometimes I call my mother and ask her:
– Mom, can you show me my books? I miss my books.
My mother laughs and tells me that I'm funny, but still shows me the bookshelf. And so I look at books of poetry by Baradulin and Buraukin, and at the "Voices from Chernobyl" by Sviatlana Aleksievich, all of them signed by the authors. I look at Valzhyna Mort's first book, and at Pavel Stsiazhko's "The Culture of the Language", a book that at some point opened my eyes at why the logic of the Belarusian language is how it is and not otherwise. I flip through the pages of the books of Tsiotka's poetry and Ursula Radzivil's plays in my mind.
The impossibility to touch the books, hug my mother and father, show the "Northern Lights" in Belarusian cinemas is a torture. I'd never imagined that for me, a woman with a wanderer's soul, the ability to return home would mean that much. I understood that only when I lost that ability.
It is precisely because we want to preserve the feeling of safety and homeliness, and because we believe that there should be something constant and anchored in life, we are continuing holding The Northern Lights Film Festival. This is our mobile home, a minibus that we've made ourselves at home in, putting some vintage furniture and moomin cups in, a home we've transported to a safer place. We hope this is not for a prolonged period of time, though. We really feel at home here. What is the meaning of this? Is that the internal immigration or a healthy attempt at surviving in inhumane circumstances?
"Every person carries their sky with them", Uladzimir Karatkevich once wrote. We've spread around the world, carrying our homes with us.
The minibus called "Northern Lights" has wheels that could at any moment start moving towards our home.
We are constantly headed home. It's a long way home. Імбрычак, галавешка, шуфлядка, сланечнік, шыпшына, вейкі, ложак, зэдлік, завіруха, лістапад*. Life is a constant way home, way to our own selves, way to our identities, a journey of our souls. This is a road for the brave. The road is us. The road feels like home.
It is precisely because we want to preserve the feeling of safety and homeliness, and because we believe that there should be something constant and anchored in life, we are continuing holding The Northern Lights Film Festival. This is our mobile home, a minibus that we've made ourselves at home in, putting some vintage furniture and moomin cups in, a home we've transported to a safer place. We hope this is not for a prolonged period of time, though. We really feel at home here. What is the meaning of this? Is that the internal immigration or a healthy attempt at surviving in inhumane circumstances?
"Every person carries their sky with them", Uladzimir Karatkevich once wrote. We've spread around the world, carrying our homes with us.
The minibus called "Northern Lights" has wheels that could at any moment start moving towards our home.
We are constantly headed home. It's a long way home. Імбрычак, галавешка, шуфлядка, сланечнік, шыпшына, вейкі, ложак, зэдлік, завіруха, лістапад*. Life is a constant way home, way to our own selves, way to our identities, a journey of our souls. This is a road for the brave. The road is us. The road feels like home.
THE MANIFESTO CELEBRATING THE VIII NORTHERN LIGHTS NORDIC AND BALTIC FILM FESTIVAL – feels like home
Founder
of the Northern Lights Film Festival
of the Northern Lights Film Festival
*Belarusian words for kettle, charred stick, drawer, sunflower, brier, eyelids, bed, stool, snowstorm, November/leaf fall.
Volia Chajkouskaya
MANIFESTO
2021
2021
2020
2020
The Manifesto
On the occasion of the 6th Northern Lights Nordic-Baltic Film Festival — LISTEN AND HEAR.
Have you ever thought how often we listen without hearing? We are so obsessed with our personal fears, pain, strong beliefs and assumptions that we just can no longer comprehend what another human being, an animal, or a tree feels…
Even when someone is screaming, we are reluctant to hear them. Most often, because of our ego. We can’t hear when someone calls for compassion and help; when our planet calls for help; when women who suffer from physical, sexual or psychological violence call for help; we can’t hear a depressed person and get scared of someone on the verge of suicide…
How often do you really hear when you listen? To hear is quite a rare skill, as amid the buzzing fast-paced life we can hardly find time, energy or resources to hear for real. Maybe that’s why it can be hard to find empathy and compassion when people don’t hear themselves, their loved ones, their surroundings, their nature — to show compassion and give a helping hand becomes almost an unattainable task. However, it is the listening and the hearing that can save us. Whomever it is that the bell is tolling for, it is tolling for each of us, since we are one.
It happens, though, that when we do hear, we choose to judge, to run away, to hide.
These are all plain mechanisms of psychological self-defense, the survival mechanisms of the human psyche. At times it is very difficult to get through them. In some cases, it is impossible altogether. Our ego will always fight to defend us, leaving others to cope on their own. This leads to indifference, the lack of empathy, victim blaming. This makes people say — the war in Syria is not our business, Australian bushfires are a distant dark fairy tale, Greta Thunberg is an awkward child who is worthy only of a few laughs. That’s why when activists are calling us out to 'do something' because the planet is dying, we can only feel sort of discomfort and irritation. What can we, individually, do? The answer is, at least something good that is within our reach. This is in itself a big deal.
It is even more difficult for someone who was heard to hear back and open their heart instead of reveling in blaming. Sometimes it is hard to show those very empathy and care, which are so much discussed in the twenty-first century — a pretty narcissistic time — and which are so scarce. We are all interconnected, the bell is tolling for all of us, and no one is ever fully aware of what another person is going through — that’s why every day we need to show kindness, care, understanding and support to our loved ones, friends, colleagues, strangers, nature, animals.
Violence begets violence. The energy of kindness and non-violent behavior begets kindness and love. Sometimes it takes just a smile, sometimes — not taking a plastic bag at a supermarket, sometimes — to respond to trust with more trust, and sometimes — just to open your heart. It’s important not only to listen but to hear — to let it into your heart, to show understanding, not to be afraid of expressing love thinking it’s just a sign of weakness.
The human is a clever, conscious being. We all have a choice, even though many of us living in the post-Soviet territory tend to have a different mentality. We all have a choice, we can choose indeed: to hear and to open our heart, to help others, to give our time, to let someone receive help.
LISTEN AND HEAR — it is also about ourselves, about us needing to hear ourselves and let go of the fear of being ourselves. To express ourselves and to hear ourselves stands for self-love and self-acceptance. This and only this is the starting point of learning to hear others. A human is a complex creature. That’s why sometimes it is not easy to love and respect people. We learn to do it every day through sympathy, giving, care. We learn to listen and hear each other, hear our nature.
What do we hear?
When I was a child, mom once asked me, 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' I said, I want to be a peacemaker. I imagined myself on TV, telling all the people around the world how important it is to love each other and not to wage war. In a way, everything I do now is about that. It is about feeling deep and showing kindness and empathy. Perhaps I have a somewhat childish naive belief that these are key qualities. When people adhere to them, there can be no war, no humiliation, no violence, no abuse of the planet.
The Northern Lights is like a peacemaker this year. It proposes to 'cease fire', to stop even if for the festival week, to find some time, to pay close attention, and to listen. Listen to stories about women’s rights and campaigns against domestic violence, about horrific consequences of psychological, emotional, sexual, physical and financial violence, about the ecological disaster and climate change, about the disappearance of entire ecosystems, about record-breaking CO2 emissions into the atmosphere, about the recycling and remanufacturing mentality, about patriarchy. And, above everything, in spite of everything, about love and beauty.
Listen to this, try to hear, leave your comfort zone, get off this spinning wheel of stress and deadlines and just listen, feel, hear. There is as much kindness and love in the world as we can imagine. And we always have a choice of what to think and how to feel.
Have you ever thought how often we listen without hearing? We are so obsessed with our personal fears, pain, strong beliefs and assumptions that we just can no longer comprehend what another human being, an animal, or a tree feels…
Even when someone is screaming, we are reluctant to hear them. Most often, because of our ego. We can’t hear when someone calls for compassion and help; when our planet calls for help; when women who suffer from physical, sexual or psychological violence call for help; we can’t hear a depressed person and get scared of someone on the verge of suicide…
How often do you really hear when you listen? To hear is quite a rare skill, as amid the buzzing fast-paced life we can hardly find time, energy or resources to hear for real. Maybe that’s why it can be hard to find empathy and compassion when people don’t hear themselves, their loved ones, their surroundings, their nature — to show compassion and give a helping hand becomes almost an unattainable task. However, it is the listening and the hearing that can save us. Whomever it is that the bell is tolling for, it is tolling for each of us, since we are one.
It happens, though, that when we do hear, we choose to judge, to run away, to hide.
These are all plain mechanisms of psychological self-defense, the survival mechanisms of the human psyche. At times it is very difficult to get through them. In some cases, it is impossible altogether. Our ego will always fight to defend us, leaving others to cope on their own. This leads to indifference, the lack of empathy, victim blaming. This makes people say — the war in Syria is not our business, Australian bushfires are a distant dark fairy tale, Greta Thunberg is an awkward child who is worthy only of a few laughs. That’s why when activists are calling us out to 'do something' because the planet is dying, we can only feel sort of discomfort and irritation. What can we, individually, do? The answer is, at least something good that is within our reach. This is in itself a big deal.
It is even more difficult for someone who was heard to hear back and open their heart instead of reveling in blaming. Sometimes it is hard to show those very empathy and care, which are so much discussed in the twenty-first century — a pretty narcissistic time — and which are so scarce. We are all interconnected, the bell is tolling for all of us, and no one is ever fully aware of what another person is going through — that’s why every day we need to show kindness, care, understanding and support to our loved ones, friends, colleagues, strangers, nature, animals.
Violence begets violence. The energy of kindness and non-violent behavior begets kindness and love. Sometimes it takes just a smile, sometimes — not taking a plastic bag at a supermarket, sometimes — to respond to trust with more trust, and sometimes — just to open your heart. It’s important not only to listen but to hear — to let it into your heart, to show understanding, not to be afraid of expressing love thinking it’s just a sign of weakness.
The human is a clever, conscious being. We all have a choice, even though many of us living in the post-Soviet territory tend to have a different mentality. We all have a choice, we can choose indeed: to hear and to open our heart, to help others, to give our time, to let someone receive help.
LISTEN AND HEAR — it is also about ourselves, about us needing to hear ourselves and let go of the fear of being ourselves. To express ourselves and to hear ourselves stands for self-love and self-acceptance. This and only this is the starting point of learning to hear others. A human is a complex creature. That’s why sometimes it is not easy to love and respect people. We learn to do it every day through sympathy, giving, care. We learn to listen and hear each other, hear our nature.
What do we hear?
When I was a child, mom once asked me, 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' I said, I want to be a peacemaker. I imagined myself on TV, telling all the people around the world how important it is to love each other and not to wage war. In a way, everything I do now is about that. It is about feeling deep and showing kindness and empathy. Perhaps I have a somewhat childish naive belief that these are key qualities. When people adhere to them, there can be no war, no humiliation, no violence, no abuse of the planet.
The Northern Lights is like a peacemaker this year. It proposes to 'cease fire', to stop even if for the festival week, to find some time, to pay close attention, and to listen. Listen to stories about women’s rights and campaigns against domestic violence, about horrific consequences of psychological, emotional, sexual, physical and financial violence, about the ecological disaster and climate change, about the disappearance of entire ecosystems, about record-breaking CO2 emissions into the atmosphere, about the recycling and remanufacturing mentality, about patriarchy. And, above everything, in spite of everything, about love and beauty.
Listen to this, try to hear, leave your comfort zone, get off this spinning wheel of stress and deadlines and just listen, feel, hear. There is as much kindness and love in the world as we can imagine. And we always have a choice of what to think and how to feel.
Founder and director
of the Northern Lights Film Festival
Volia Chajkouskaya
of the Northern Lights Film Festival
Volia Chajkouskaya
2019
2019
2018
2018
2017
2017
2016
2016
2015
2015