[on his biography and Amnesia (2015)] I do not speak German and yet it is my mother tongue. I am Swiss and my maternal grandfather is the German philosopher and psychiatrist Hans Prinzhorn, famous for his studies on the art produced by the clinically insane. My mother always categorically refused to speak to me in the language. Therefore, the subject of the film is very close to me but I did not want to make a movie about my mother. Rather, I was interested in showing, via a succession of unsaids between the two characters, the emotional experience of rediscovering love as well as reuniting with one's homeland and especially one's mother tongue. A film, in other worlds, on Martha's reunification and Jo's life education. I spent much of my childhood in Geneva and some years in Colombia, all with a mother who refused to speak to me in what should have been my first language. Paradoxically, German culture was everywhere at home and present in all the reference points I had as I grew up: the country's painting, its poetry and its music, including my mother's cello that would fill the house with its beautiful sound when she played alone pieces by Bach or Schubert. I have often asked my mother to tell me about Berlin in the 1930s when she was there as a girl, to tell me about her school, her Jewish friends who disappeared from one day to the next, about the public benches that were marked "No Jews allowed" and so on. I asked her about how she managed after her father had died to convince her mother, a theatre actress in Berlin, to take a one-way ticket to Zurich in 1936. She settled there, did her studies and met my father, a man from Geneva who did not speak a word of German. He was a geologist and had to leave for work in Iran. She could not stand their separation and so she left Switzerland as the Second World War raged in Europe, and crossed a dozen countries on the train and bus to join him. And so I was born in Teheran.[2015]
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