Albertina Carri was born in Buenos Aires in 1973, where she currently works and resides. She directs short films and feature films, and has also worked with video-installations and TV shows. She is one of the pioneers of the Nuevo Cine Argentino concept. She is known for her versatility and relentless exploration of a wide range of genres from film noir to, documentaries –bordering fiction–, porn melodrama or family drama.
Her feature films have been screened in different festivals including Cannes, Berlin, Toronto, Gijón and Havana; they include No quiero volver a casa, Los rubios, Géminis, La rabia and Cuatreros, to name a few. In Cuatreros, she combines languages and genres, individual and collective memory, archive, fiction, ghosts and bourgeoisie. Her second full-length film, Los rubios, challenged the mainstream discourse regarding the most gruesome dictatorship endured by the Argentine people and the forced disappearances. Not only did the film constitute a turning point in the way memory and its representations are filmed, narrated and considered, but also placed Carri amongst the top directors of her generation.
In 2015, she presented Operación fracaso y el sonido recobrado at Parque de la Memoria. This audiovisual exhibit combined individual memory with cinematographic remains in the form of organic memory.
She is also the Artistic Director of Asterisco, an international LGBTIQ film festival.
Cinema and pornography could easily share a basic definition: they generate images that persist in the retina and create their own universe. Abject, clandestine, anonymous: what scenes or fantasies have been recorded by the camera obscura, –the very beginning of film, the condition for porn– in the early days? Has there been a change in the technical or imaginary aspect?
These premises will be present in this performance. A director will delve into private collections, will open cans like Pandora's boxes and look at things not intended for her eyes, since in Carri's perspective, ''women see themselves, but fail to see''. She will take this material, cut it and edit it alone in her studio, as if this work was also clandestine. Between silence and craftsmanship, laughter will appear like a closed fist and the final montage will become a political, porno-terrorist manifesto signed with a digital fingerprint to avoid breaking the anonymity pact. The work will thus explore the ways in which the body becomes a camera, the camera becomes an organ and the work is carried through by the immanence of the voice.