Filmmaker Zoe Fayaud Documents The Resilience of Palestine in صمود
French Filmmaker Zoe Fayaud has a portfolio rich with musical, cross-cultural projects; her lens focused on the creative scenes of Europe, Cuba, and the Middle East. Born in Thailand and raised in Cambodia, Mali and Tanzania, Zoe’s work has developed to specialise in documentary and musical collaborations. Her latest film Resilience صمود (translating as 'steadfast perseverance') explores the hip hop culture of Palestine. Following characters from the skateboarding and breakdancing scene, Resilience صمود encapsulates the determination and tenacity shown by Palestinian people in the face of adversity.
Over the course of two years, Zoe made numerous trips back and forth to Palestine, intent on making a film that went beyond the scope of mainstream media representation. With a background in journalism and an ambition to engage in socially aware projects, Zoe used the format of documentary to show the rich tapestry of culture she witnessed flourishing within communities. Fayaud’s documentary offers a window into many individual’s pursuits, all strung together by their use of sport and creativity as a tool for self expression and empowerment. We asked this ambitious filmmaker about the process of making Resilience صمود and what motivated her to focus on the characters she introduces us to today.
What were your initial reasons for wanting to research and document the hip hop scene of Palestine?
I’ve always wanted to go to Palestine. My experience of growing up all over Africa meant that whenever I came to Europe, people would always ask me how dangerous it was because of what they saw on TV. Which was ridiculous. Africa is 54 countries. Not all of it is Saharan dunes, lions and zebras, and ethnic conflicts. There are so many different faces of Africa.
Somehow I always imagined that Palestine would be the same - painted as a desolate place of chaos, represented in mainstream media by a conflict which eclipses everything else. I was absolutely certain that if I went there, I would encounter something different from what I was being told. I had studied Palestine at University during my Politics course, which left me feeling strongly about Palestinian independence and self-determination. I think this fuelled my desire to go even more.
In 2018 I finally visited the country and at first, I thought I would make a short film about the skateboarding scene burgeoning in rural areas. I’d found out about these people and places through Instagram and my skater friends. But then as I spent more and more time in the West Bank, I connected with all these young people from other scenes and the film organically grew from there.
What was your experience of being in Palestine and meeting the people featured in your documentary?
During my first visit, in 2018, I spent 2 months living in a village called Asira Al Shamaliya. I was volunteering with SkatePal, an NGO that builds skateparks in the West Bank and teaches kids how to skate. We lived in the village and saw the same kids every day, connecting with their families, sharing meals, and spending Iftar with them during Ramadan season. We would try, and fail, to speak in Arabic with the kids and they would laugh so much. The Mayor of the village was our best friend! He was always at the skatepark, rallying food and fresh drinks for everyone, and it was wonderful to feel included in their social fabric.
Emotionally however, it was challenging to witness such brutal occupation, blatant racism, and hatred coming from the Israeli Defence Forces. Roadblocks, checkpoints, night raids, random kidnappings - this is the reality which Palestinians, especially in certain rural areas, face every day. It was hard to see that. Having spent time with people who had no way of escaping, to then go back to Europe with my privilege just because I have the right passport made me very aware.
I found myself returning time and again, filming the Palestine Music Expo ‘19 and during that trip, I contacted Stereo48, the contemporary hiphop dance company. They loved the idea of being featured in the film, and were so kind and genuine that, before even seeing them dance, I knew they would make excellent characters regardless. So we arranged to film with them later that year.
As a filmmaker, what do you see as the benefits of creating a documentary, especially when focusing on a community which has been represented in a certain way via mainstream media?
I used to be a journalist, working for France Televisions, the main public broadcaster company in France. I saw first hand how information is handled and rendered digestible for large audiences; leading to mass simplification and shortcuts in explanations, giving very little time for reflection. The world of news does not allow for much nuance, in-depth analysis, and historical context. Once I realised that I think my journalism career was pretty much over. I wanted to be proud of my work, I wanted to believe in it.
So I shifted to filmmaking and documentary. I believe as a format, documentary gives you the space and the time to truly delve into the complexities of the human psyche. With a documentary you can patiently explore thorny issues without the rush to simplify. You can historicise and contextualise.
A good documentary for me will teach you something. It’ll present you with something you didn’t know before or hadn’t expected. I also think a documentary should be a vector - in the case of SUMUD (Resilience صمود ) I was trying very hard not to speak for people, but to let them express themselves through my work. As a white filmmaker making a film about Palestinian people, it was very important that I do not become a voice of this film, because none of this is about me. So it’s about knowing your place and making sure you have the right intentions before you start shooting.
What was the most valuable lesson you learnt from creating this documentary?
The most valuable lesson was keeping the belief in what I was wanting to do alive. Making a documentary can take months, years of your life. It’s real dedication and there are so many hurdles and obstacles along the way with many people telling you no. We almost managed to secure £20,000 worth of funding when we were halfway through production. I cannot tell you the feeling of receiving a contract for such an amount and then for it to fall through. It was very disappointing. So keeping that determination comes from having your head tight on your shoulders, knowing why you want to do it and why it matters to you.
My friend and colleague Joana Lirio came to help me film during one of our visits to Palestine in 2019. It was her first time in the Middle East and I didn’t have any money to pay her. She covered the cost of her own plane ticket, bought herself a camera and joined me on the adventure. I was lucky enough to have someone like her believe in my vision. It gave me even more determination to keep going. Sometimes it just takes one person to keep you motivated.
In what ways have you seen yourself grow as a filmmaker during this process?
We’ve filmed this film on 4 different types of cameras! This would be heresy on a music video or a commercial, but documentary is about storyline and characters, not so much about equipment. Joana and I saw ourselves get better technically the more we filmed, which has been a good way of witnessing our own progression. I’m a very stubborn person and I get very obsessed with things. To the point where I feel like I have to prove a point. That has served me well in filmmaking because I don’t know how to give up! So I guess with making SUMUD (Resilience صمود ) I’ve learned a lot about my own resilience as well.
What do you hope to inspire in others who watch SUMUD (Resilience صمود)?
I hope people watch this and are left with a want to go to the West Bank. It’s a wonderful place, full of colour, incredible music, food, and culture. I hope it inspires independent filmmakers to be fearless, and fight for the work they want to make. So many people told me not to go to Palestine, that it wasn’t safe, that I would be shot at or bombed, reminding me that I didn’t speak Arabic so how would I communicate etc. I chose not to listen to anyone and follow my instincts. I now have a community of Palestinian friends in the West Bank but also in the UK and in Berlin. They are a new family to me and alongside their friendship, I’ve also been offered several work opportunities in the West Bank since. It’s been an absolute blessing for me. So I would say this - don’t listen to people who don’t know what they’re talking about. Follow your gut. Do your research. If you really want to make films, you will find a way. Even if you’re broke, don’t have experience, don’t have equipment. When there is a will, there is a way.
Follow Zoe Fayaud on Instagram @zoefayud
Interview by Bethany Burgoyne