2018
Hong Kong International Photo Festival
專題放映
專題放映
There’s something magical about the seaside in summer— a charm that makes you forget time, inviting you to linger in the warmth of fleeting romance. Inspired by the Summer by the Sea feature in the latest issue of Japanese culture magazine Sanma, the editorial team curates a wistful film series set along the coastal towns of Japan’s Kanto region. These six summer films are perfect companions for the season’s memories. Wander through the nostalgic seaside home of Still Walking, soaking in the gentle friction of ordinary family life in Shōnan. Listen for the waves in the final notes of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s farewell. Escape into the dreamlike world of Swallowtail Butterfly and encounter the hallucinatory metropolis of Yen Town. Each of these cinematic landscapes captures a unique Japanese summer, stirring up the most enchanting waves in your heart. This summer, come watch the sea—and the films—with us.
A decisive moment captured by the shutter becomes eternal—freezing not only time, but the legends behind the lens. Giloo presents the "Moments the Shutter Caught" documentary series, inviting viewers into the lives of master photographers. These artists documented—and at times disrupted—their era. Whether it was a fleeting spark of inspiration or the struggles and wisdom of creation, everything was preserved through the lens, becoming the very essence that nourishes their work.
Photography is a kind of magic—one that captures fleeting beauty and frames a way of seeing the world. Even after losing his memory, Takuma Nakahira continued photographing daily life, preserving its shifting shape. The wildly unrestrained Nobuyoshi Araki turned tender and intimate, documenting the luminous presence of his beloved wife Yoko. And a mysterious nanny—who left behind over 100,000 negatives—was later revealed to be one of the most legendary street photographers of our time. Giloo invites you to journey across time and space, through the viewfinders of master photographers. Step into their gaze, and witness the moments of eternal light they captured—fragments of life, stilled and glowing.
I think I’m falling more and more in love with documentaries. Choosing two films about Takuma Nakahira might feel a bit indulgent—but I can’t help it. On one hand, I genuinely love his work; on the other, these two films approach the same subject in completely different ways, and watching both reveals a richer, more layered experience. Andrei Tarkovsky: A Cinema Prayer and Greenaway Alphabet are not just fascinating because of the artists themselves. The former, directed by Tarkovsky’s son, feels like a poetic homage; the latter, a playful and profound conversation between Peter Greenaway and his daughter, offers a very different kind of parent-child dialogue. Both are worth savoring. And as for Suzaku… do I even need to say anything? Just—breathtaking.
The city is a large map condensed onto our wall, a beautiful dream propelling us forward in our minds. We've all, at some point, relied on cities within films—their visuals acting like a museum of urban fragments. They allow us to escape the confines of everyday anxieties, focusing instead on urban wanderings, feeling the overlap of new discoveries and old routines. Space and city are intimately connected to the protagonist. If you haven't written the travelogue you hoped for, nor taken truly satisfying travel photos, then let the scenes unfold from your couch. Through film, we can once again confirm that the world is a bit detached, yet also full of new revelations about time, and the wellspring of surging desire keeps us relying on it.