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KARLOVY VARY 2025 Proxima

Maria Rigel • Director of Thus Spoke the Wind

“The Armenian language is inherently poetic”

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- The director discusses generational conflict, symbolic characters, Armenian identity and the emotional impact of music in her film

Maria Rigel • Director of Thus Spoke the Wind
(© Maria Rigel)

On the occasion of her film’s world premiere at the Karlovy Vary Film Festival, we interviewed Maria Rigel, the director of Thus Spoke the Wind [+see also:
film review
interview: Maria Rigel
film profile
]
. The Armenian movie is showing in the Proxima Competition, and deals with topics such as family ties and a difficult upbringing, while conveying a strong sense of cultural identity.

Cineuropa: In your director’s notes, you mention wanting to express the clash between generations while maintaining a documentary-like perspective on Armenia. How did you approach the development of your three main characters? Were they inspired by real individuals, or did you construct them more as symbolic figures?
Maria Rigel:
In my view, a character in auteur cinema always embodies multiple layers. On one hand, they may be based on a real prototype; on the other, as part of a larger system of images, they inevitably take on a symbolic dimension – they become a vessel for the overall vision. So, the protagonists in the film possess both aspects. Of course, their personalities were inspired by real people, but within the story, it was important for me to reach a metanarrative level of storytelling.

What were the challenges and the most positive aspects of directing people with minimal experience in film? What surprised you the most during the process?
When casting for the movie, it was essential to feel a genuine internal resonance from the people I met, to establish mutual understanding, and also to consider whether the actor truly embodied the character type I was seeking. So, the biggest challenge was actually finding these people in real life – individuals whose personalities would precisely match the vision.

For instance, to find the boy who would play Aik, the casting director and I visited many schools in Yerevan and other cities, but none of the candidates felt quite right. Then, almost by chance, I asked our driver, and it turned out that his friend had a son who ended up being a perfect fit. We also had difficulty finding an actress for the role of the younger sister. I wanted someone with a very vivid and distinctive presence. Eventually, just two weeks before shooting began, we found her, and she was such a perfect match that no rehearsals were even needed.

You have mentioned Sergei Parajanov's influence on the visuals, but in what way did you also draw from his philosophical or cultural outlook on Armenian identity?
I believe Parajanov had an extraordinary ability to express the imagistic thinking of the Armenian people. It’s worth noting that the Armenian language is inherently poetic. It’s not only from a phonetic point of view, but syntactically as well. And language, without a doubt, is the foundation of mental identity – it shapes one’s way of seeing and interpreting the world.

For example, in Armenian, there’s a phrase, Tsavt tanem, which is commonly used to express affection, and it literally means, “Let me take away your pain.” Or there’s the phrase Achkt lus, used as a blessing or a form of congratulations, and it literally means, “Light to your eyes.” I find that incredibly beautiful. That’s why it was important for me to build the narrative through the lens of the metaphorical richness of the Armenian language, as a reflection of how the characters perceive reality.

You began writing the script while listening to Steve Brand’s music. What was it about his sound that resonated with your vision at such an early stage, and how did it affect the final version of the film?
Steve Brand’s music feels mystically attuned to the natural spirit and atmosphere of Armenia. It opens a doorway into the unconscious and allows you to feel the energy of a place. It doesn’t function in the film as a leitmotif that marks or defines emotion; rather, it has a deeper purpose. It helps immerse the viewer in the emotional state that the characters are going through. There’s also something irrational in his sound, something elemental, and that was essential because my characters are deeply intertwined with nature. His music evokes that bond in a subtle, intuitive way.

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