The Barbican is currently presenting some forty of Francis Alÿs’s films of children’s games, alongside his paintings and other related material. The films last the length of the games – typically three to eight minutes. He first filmed a game in 1999, then in 2007, but has become more systematic in seeking out games in recent years. Alÿs does not look to suggest metaphorical content, seeing the films simply as embodying and recording specific ways of interacting with the world. The films are also freely available to view on Alÿs’s website.
What led you to make the films?
At first it was just a way of making contact with cultures I knew little to nothing about. Invited to Afghanistan in 2010, I felt completely out of place. I started filming children playing on the street as a way to break the ice and try to find an entry point. Doing that also allowed me to gauge how people reacted to the presence of an outsider and to a camera. It’s a sort of mutual observation process which allows me to learn fast about the local cultural codes and feel what can and cannot be done, which can go from the prohibition to film women to how you place your feet when you are sitting next to someone. From the trip to Afghanistan onwards, when I would arrive in a new location, the first thing I would do would be to ask to be taken to places where kids are playing, always in the open air and public spaces. That is where a relation might eventually start, simply by observing.
How do you go about filming?
You cannot really direct children – and that’s what keeps us hooked to the project. You must adapt and improvise, to quickly grasp the mechanics of the scene and react. The kids take the lead and you adapt, rather than you directing them. If they’re engaged, they’re fantastic, they give you way more than you expect. If they’re bored, forget it. There’s no faking, no pretending.
I don’t consider myself a film maker, but nonetheless I am using a camera and the challenge is that there is no recipe, each game is a new language… We shoot for two hours, typically, and normally without any planning – the kids that came along join in. In the case of London, though, we were working in schools, so it was a different protocol for the games we recorded around the Barbican.
Still from Children’s Game #40: Chivichanas, La Habana, Cuba 2023
What do you aim to achieve?
I want the videos to be self-explanatory – you can see other examples online, but most of the time there is a voice or text explaining the game. We’re trying to give all the ingredients so that just by watching you can understand the essential mechanics of the game, and identify in which part of the world it takes place. It’s a simple goal, but to achieve it in a few minutes is quite tricky. A lot of the editing is trying to stay sincere to the moment, but keeping a distance from any emotional involvement with the kids. Keeping them ‘in the game’ if you like, as much as we are.
Is it easy to find games being played?
Things have evolved over the years – and part of the reason the project is taking place is because it is becoming rarer to find kids playing on the street for all sorts of reasons: the omnipresence of cars, the way in which social media and digital entertainment have become part of the social life of children, parental distrust of the public space – children don’t have a tenth of the freedom I enjoyed as a kid.
How was your own childhood?
I grew up in the Belgian countryside – imagine the background of a Breughel painting, that’s where I grew up – and it hasn’t changed. So I enjoyed complete freedom – I had to show up for breakfast and dinner, but between them no questions were asked. Now I have two young kids – so I play all the games, and I do encourage them to play in public spaces.
Still from Children’s Game #22: Jump Rope, Hong Kong 2020
Do you prefer particular types of game?
It isn’t a complete survey, it’s an ongoing project. And the more games I film, the more I see the holes in the series. We try to avoid props so far as possible – if there is one, we prefer it to be a simple one – like the rope in ‘Children’s Game #22: Jump Rope’ – or something found in the location of the game, or that they can make up themselves – we’re not presenting games like tennis, that come with a heavy infrastructure. I’m very much interested in games that take advantage of the immediate surroundings, such as the kids in Amman using old train tracks to delineate the boundaries of their marbles game. .
Why do you want to carry on making the films?
We are at a moment of transition, and that’s the essential reason behind this project. It is important to record these things while they still spontaneously appear. Things are changing – I’m not saying that’s a good thing or a bad thing, and it’s not for me to analyse what the change means, but it is important to keep a record.
Bamiyan, Afghanistan 2010 – oil on canvas, 13.3 x 18.3 x 1.6 cm
How do you compare filming with painting?
From my personal perspective, it’s a completely different approach. As a contemporary artist you are invited to extraordinary places in which you feel like an outsider, if not unwelcome. Drawing, and painting in particular, reverses the situation. If I sit down and start sketching, there’s a big difference from using a camera. Kids – and adults – will sneak in towards me, and eventually start interacting. A camera seems aggressive, but now they will come to you, and you can start a conversation. And quite a few of the paintings in the show were exactly that – a means of making contact. The activity of completing the image, usually at night, is a passive way for me to keep in touch with the place. So there is a parallel between the two, even though they may seem separate. And the span of years is similar – from the late 90’s through to today.
Shariya Refugee Camp, Iraq, 2016 – oil on canvas, 13.3 x 18.3 x 1.6 cm
What do the children think of you?
They are very generous and willing if they see we take their game seriously – that is why they are responsive. And they even protecting us if we’re filming in relatively sketchy locations. Kids are fantastic, they really integrate with the game, their micro-society for the time of your relationship with them. But you have to assume a position, we are a witness of their reality, but not part of it.
Still from Children’s Game #34: Appelsindans, Copenhagen 2022
It’s not a commercial project?
I do not in any way want to commercialise the films. We do it because we love it. And for the vanity of the arts. Putting them into the domain of the Creative Commons is a direct, clear statement. Also, before I start filming, I always tell all the people involved that they will be able to download and watch the films, and that nobody is making money out of this. This makes the relation much healthier.
Do the children get to see the works?
Whenever possible, yes. Whenever possible I return, but all are available online. Parents are often checking the other games on the site while we film – that is part of what gives us the credit to continue. When I can show it to the kids, it is probably the most critical audience I will get – you can see instantly when you lose their attention.
This text is based on Alÿs’s responses at the Barbican’s press briefing, slightly supplemented by his answers in other interviews. ‘Francis Alÿs: Ricochets’ continues at The Barbican to 1 September.
Top Photo: Francis Alÿs, 2023, Barbican, London © Louise Yeowart / Barbican Art Gallery