Between the lines,
A story of a project
Film director & Camera: Sadegh Zangeneh
01
In the beginning, it was just another renovation project for us. But unlike all other projects that one likes to have a fresh space out of an old house, this one was meant for renovation because of a seven-year-old boy, who had turned its walls into a canvas of grand proportions.
When I say grand, I mean the entire area from floor to ceiling. The fact that the boy was not tall enough was not a good excuse. As best he could, he found a way to reach the highest level of the empty wall. He wanted the whole wall to complete his painting. It was clear that he had devoted a lot of time to this endeavor, leaving almost no wall untouched.
What completed the picture of this boy's "environment" was: the father, who worked as a sales manager, left early every morning and returned late exhausted from the day's boring conversations, the mother, who tried to keep up with the tasks in her daily hustle and bustle, let her mind rest easy that everything is "going on" and the two twin children who were just walking and had demands and had focused all the attention and energy of the mother on themselves. Now you are a seven year old boy, somewhere in between…
The father said: "This vandalism must be removed from the wall. And children should learn that the wall is not a place to paint". But in my opinion, the paintings were extraordinary, if you payed attention enough to understand them. On one side, they depict real-world fantasies, where a good family lives together, children holding their parents' hands smiling under a big rainbow, and on the other side, monstrous creatures adorned with blades, teeth, and claws. Or a large painting of land and sea animals that were drawn with very interesting details that showed how the boy made this design in his mind and put it on the wall. And that made me curious to know what kind of personality this boy has.
I tried several times to open up the conversation. But he did not pay attention and preferred not to speak. He continued his work slowly and respectfully gave this message that leave me alone! But he absorbed everything with those curious eyes and heard everything. He was clearly aware of what was going on in their home. He knew that many things were going to change soon. Change a lot. And this, along with his two new siblings, had clearly disrupted his calm and simple world. This could be understood from the force he exerted in pressing the pencil on the walls.
02
Demolition has begun. Nothing recognizable from the previous house was remained. Amidst the din of demolition tools, the faint sound of a doorbell rang—perhaps the father. But in the door frame, the little boy was standing, with a school bag pack. I greeted and said that maybe this is not a safe place for you. But still, he was standing calmly at the threshold of the door and without saying a word, he was looking for the house he knew, which was lost among the piles of building debris.
We both stood there for a while. "What will happen to my paintings?" he asked me without looking at me. It became clear that, for him, this was the most pressing concern. “Your paintings? We won’t obliterate them; we will carefully bring them to your room” I reassured him. It was never the plan to do this, but faced with the question he posed, I felt compelled to do something for them. Then suddenly this idea came to my mind and I said without preamble: “In the meantime if you give me some of your other paintings, I would bring them to your room, too. I like your paintings, you know?” He turned and stared into my eyes. Maybe he wanted to make sure what I said was true. Maybe he wanted to see how much confidence there is behind my words. I do not know. But if I had the slightest doubt, I would never have given him this promise. He trusted me. And the next day, he returned with 16 new paintings; a new collection of monsters.
Evenings at home became a time for me to contemplate the paintings, attempting to decipher the unspoken narratives behind them. They captivated me. “I have to take my son to see a therapist. I’m worried. I have to understand why such disgusting monsters are in his mind?” His mother believed. I asked myself: What is he trying to say through these paintings? I knew children don’t draw something meaningless to just enjoy it. They express their feelings with it. These paintings were the door to a world, where their parents couldn’t see. I believed there was more in these paintings. I could hear his voice, yet I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. It felt like these paintings weren't just expressions of anarchistic or destructive behavior. This boy was attempting to communicate with his family through this unconventional medium. He couldn't articulate his thoughts conventionally, so he resorted to this form of expression.
One night, I noticed something intriguing in the paintings. Despite the seemingly ferocious and monstrous nature of all the creatures, I noticed that not a single one displayed anger or hostility on their faces. Every monster had a smile – an open mouth with large teeth. A light turned on in my mind. I felt that I was slowly understanding the content of this silent dialogue. This story was very important to me. We had started something that would change this boy's world. A world where these monsters were an inseparable part of it. By saying, “Well, no more painting on the wall! And if you keep doing that, you will be punished." Nothing would happen. If we did not pay attention to the paintings, it was as if we were not paying attention to what the boy was trying to tell us. In that case, yes, of course, we have renovated another house, but nothing would change for this boy. Nothing has improved. And this was never what we wanted.
03
The renovation was completed and new life was breathed into the house. It was supposed that one day the family would come to visit their new home. In fact, this was not very important to me. What really mattered was how the boy would react to his new home.
They entered and the boy quickly went to his room and closed the door. Out of boredom, the father was trying to pretend that he was actually checking everything to make sure we did our job correctly. But the mother, who had followed her son a few steps toward his room, stopped behind the closed door and cast a questioning look at me. The answer was clear: Let's wait.
Twenty minutes later, the door opened slowly and the little boy let us in with a secret smile on his face. We were in. The mother looked around carefully. She thought it is a temporary joke and can not be serious. I was waiting for her reaction to say, "This is not going to stay like this. Is it?" Instead, the mother slowly approached the walls and carefully touched the lines painted on the wall with her fingers. Everyone were there. All the monsters, animals... all together were there again. "These paintings... How beautiful these paintings are! Did my son draw them? I can't believe it! How talented you are!" She hugged her little boy tightly. It was hard to hold back her emotions. "Your son is fine.” I whispered. “He just needs love and attention. He's trying to say: hey, look, I'm hier, too. See me. He likes to know that he's still precious to his parents. It's important. His world had changed and this change scares him terribly. He feels alone. Look, these monsters aren't scary. Are they? They're all smiling. He made these monsters as guards to protect himself against his fears. You're not supposed to do anything. Just Love him. Both himself and his paintings."
I let mother and the boy be alone for a while. I slowly left the room. The boy took a glance at me out of the corner of his eyes. We winked at each other and it was the best goodbye I have ever had in my life.
