Shadi Harouni

At the beginning of Shadi Harounis’ The Lightest of Stones, the viewer is greeted by the sight of rolling stones and the roar of machine noise. Static images of stone structures are followed by shots of the artist standing with her back to the viewer, scraping stones from the quarry with her bare hands. We then cut to a shot of five men talking amongst themselves in Kurdish and Farsi for 15 minutes.

Like the chorus in Greek theater, the conversation between the men gradually fills the viewer in on the situation. We learn that they all work at the quarry, and that they know that the film is being made ›for art‹. The men empathize with the artist who, like them, comes from Iran. They admire her, and compare her with a figure from a Persian epic. They joke that maybe her work will soon be shown in America. Nonetheless, it seems they aren’t sure what the project is all about, nor why neither the artist nor the camera crew will answer their questions. They give their own interpretation of the title: »If this wasn’t so light, if this was hard stone, she’d have broken her head by now«. They also joke about possible concerns and questions the viewers might have: »I’m worried about those rocks coming down«, and »No, really, what kind of film is this?«

Art as a ›handicraft‹ is contrasted with the men’s physical labor. The viewer is overcome with questions, and yet, like the men, they have no opportunity to pose them. Is this a scratching at the surface, a digging for answers and explanations? In lieu of such things, the viewer is abandoned to the quiet chatter of the men in the background. (Tara Soltani)