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No one tells Stephen and Timothy Quay what to do.
“They don’t dare,” they tell Variety. The Quay brothers – at Annecy to receive the Honorary Cristal award – are identical twins and always speak as one voice.
“We need
the freedom. Otherwise, we wouldn’t do it. Christopher Nolan commissioned [‘The Doll’s Breath’] because he liked our work. His only requirement was that we shoot it on 35mm. Otherwise, he didn’t care.”
Still, even for them, such commissions are harder to come by.
“Maybe the times aren’t right for the funding bodies to accept literature as something promising in terms of animation? Some students can’t believe what we’ve gotten away with,” they say.
“In 1985, when we approached the BFI [British Film Institute], they said they would like us to use a piece of literature as a starting point to give it a sense of narrative. So we suggested ‘The Street of Crocodiles’ by Bruno Schulz, which has no narrative at all,” they laugh.
They became known for films inspired by their favorite writers: Robert Walser, Schulz or Stanisław Lem.
“It’s very intuitive. You transpose it to a parallel visual realm, but you’re also aware of its pedigree. If people read Bruno Schultz – which they don’t – we become a footnote to his work. And we’re great readers of footnotes.”
Their latest feature, “Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass,” was decades in the making.
“We wrote a script for it right after ‘The Street of Crocodiles,’ but nobody was interested. Then, at one point, we said: ‘We’re going to start making the film ourselves.’ We spent 19 years, on and off, working on it until the BFI and the Polish Film Institute provided us with a budget to complete it.”
Despite its world premiere at Venice, it still hasn’t been widely released. But that’s ok.
“We’re aware that our work is very niche. It exists on the margins, which is the only place for it. I think we’d feel suspicious if it became mainstream. Sometimes, younger people like it for the wrong reasons. What horrifies us the most is when they say: ‘It’s gothic’.”
They don’t like to be viewed as “teachers.”
“Suddenly, you’re expected to know everything about animation and guide people through the complexities of their mental realms. That’s not always pleasing, because we’re very private people.”
“Animation is a lonely activity. It’s really just the two of us, going where our intuition takes us. Plus a musician. But we don’t chat with him either!”
They never get bored when working together.
“Sometimes, students come to our studio and go: ‘We have to find a twin’,” they laugh.
“Even if you’re having a bad day or things aren’t working, it just forces you to think harder. We know the value of our collaboration. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to divorce each other.”
They add: “Every day at lunch, we sit down, there’s a bottle of wine, make notes and talk things through in the evening. We don’t have personalities that get in the way. There’s no ego and also, it’s a very humble craft. It demands hard work and discipline. It’s almost a form of prayer. You can’t be a spoiled brat.”
Next, they will showcase their project about late director Krzysztof Kieślowski at Poland’s Hommage à Kieślowski Festival.
“The Polish Cultural Institute in London asked us to make a little 10-minute film on Kieślowski to commemorate the 30th anniversary of his death, which will be celebrated this summer. We had access to his archives,” they say.
A new feature may also be taking shape.
“There’s no script yet, but we’re getting there. We’re waiting for the music to provoke it,” they admit.
“There’s always this hunt for that one thing that really sparks something off, but sometimes it starts with the music. [Composer] Carl Orff wrote ‘Musica Poetica,’ and we discovered it in a library in London. It’s very early on, but we’ve been animating with this music for about a couple of months. We’ll see where it goes.”
