Fairuz Ghammam

“Listen, Grandma.” These words appear on a black screen, a summons that feels more like a pact than a simple instruction. Before any image emerges, there is a clear call to pay attention. Next, the first image surfaces and does so without flourish: in a fixed frame, an old woman is seated amid a room where life has been packed up —boxes, bags, bedding, a stool with a pair of sandals. A bright red sheet draped over a box commands our attention; it is a rectangular blaze that both hides and announces its contents. The woman props her left arm and leans forward just enough to demonstrate that listening requires posture.