The multi-award winning Spanish documentary feature ‘The Visit and a Secret Garden’, one of 15 features in competition at this year’s ARCA, plays on a moving contradiction.

A two-part film, the first of which is a full half-hour long, captures celebrated Spanish painter Isabel Santaló in a decrepit old age living in absolute anonymity in a cramped apartment somewhere in Madrid’s nondescript outer radius.

Directed by Irene M. Borrego, the artist’s niece, London Film School alumnus and prized short filmmaker, the film captures Santaló some 50 years after she disappeared from the radar of Madrid’s art scene, after following a training at the School of Fine Arts in Madrid, Louvres in Paris and MoMa in New York, participated in exhibitions in Paris, Milan, Stockholm and Miami and figured as one of the main women painters and art restorers in Spain in the 1950s-70s.

Half a century later, Santaló is first seen in her bedroom, filmed from outside the doorway, one trouser leg stretched out as she laboriously dresses. For much of the first half of the film, she remains a sketchy figure, shuffling down the hallway of her apartment bent over a cart she pushes in front of her, or seated in her large armchair, her hands, her right trembling, covering his face.

Meanwhile, a voice-over interview plays out between the director and Antonio López, arguably Spain’s most respected living painter and the subject of Victor Erice’s 1992 Cannes Jury Prize winner “Dream of Light”, who seems to be one of the only people in Spain who remembers Santaló well.

As a painter, Santaló was “very well known” in her day, López says, in a photo of Santaló’s almost fully closed bedroom door. “His tones were dry and bright, simple shapes but not geometric,” he says. “A little tough, very honest, very genuine and very secretive, like her,” López continues, as the film captures Santaló, framed by her bedroom door, sitting on her bed. “It made me think of a secret garden. I think if you ventured into it, you would find beautiful things very attractive even if it seems that she did not want to show them.

However, at some point, she disappeared. “No one has talked about her for many years now,” López says. “The present erases everything.”

Yet at the half hour mark, “The Visit and a Secret Garden” opens as Santaló, questioned belligerently by Borregó about what happened to her paintings and her idea of ​​her importance as an artist, begins to speak her mind and finds her own voice – surprisingly full of throat.

“I hate our family,” she admits. “The way they treated me was like I worked in a brothel.” “A true artist only expresses himself without being sure of what he is doing.”

What does it take to make art? Borrego asks. “There are no rules.” You are alone, “an orphan”.

Why did she never marry? “Because I didn’t like the life of a servant. Do you understand the word, servant?

“Isabel commanded respect,” López recalled. Even 50 years later, despite its advanced fragility, this behavior remains. And a film that is a portrait of the forgotten artist Isabel Santaló in the very act of depicting her destiny saves her from this oblivion.

Produced by Borrego’s Madrid label (“This Film is About Me”, “El mar nos mira de lejos”) and Lisbon’s Cedro Plátano, “La visita y un jardín secreto”, Borrego’s first feature film, won the Silver Biznaga of the Malaga Festival 2022 for Best Direction and Audience Award in its Documentary Section. It also won the HBO Max Award for Best Portuguese Film in competition at DocLisboa of its year.

Begin Again Films distributes in Spain. Les Films de la Résistance manages the international rights. The variety spoke to Borrego on the eve of ARCA.

A crucial decision for the film, which gives it great originality, is to show Isabel’s apartment, how she ended up living, but not her paintings. Could you briefly explain this decision to us?

The decision was linked to Isabel’s approach to show and focus on the present, to launch questions and reflections on the creative process, art and life. I wasn’t looking to do a biopic or to invite judgment on Isabel as an artist by showing her paintings. In fact, her main job had mysteriously disappeared and was not in her apartment. The evocative nature of the empty walls, Antonio’s voice, and the hard truths shared by Isabel struck me as a more interesting approach to opening the film.

When you shoot Isabel in the early parts of the film, she is half-hidden by doors or by her own hands, or often seen from behind. This appears to be a formal representation of his status as a now little-known artist. Again, could you comment?

Of course, the cinematography plays with the concept of visibility and invisibility. I think that this formal approach also refers to the idea of ​​framing Isabel from a certain cinematographic distance, in this case between the director and her subject because of fear. Formally, this gap narrows as the film progresses. The intention is to invite the public on a journey where slowly truths, discoveries and thoughts are unveiled.

When Isabel speaks, she comes across as always convincing and passionate about her art. Were you surprised by his intellectual vigour?

I was lucky enough to feel how powerful, lively and lively Isabel was during the research phase, but I fully realized and embraced it during editing. The strength of his spirit contrasts with the weakness and fragility of his body and his condition. The choice to only reveal her vigor later in the film was very conscious and meant to hit the audience as well as give Isabel the voice and space to really assert her presence.

You say in the film, speaking to Isabel in voiceover, that “I looked at you with my parents’ eyes”. When did your attitude towards Isabel start to change? And are you still afraid of ending up like her?

I often say that making this film was the hardest thing I’ve done in my life so far. I believe fear is why and how I started this project, and realization and gratitude are how I ended the film. It was after filming, and especially during the long editing that I changed my posture not only towards Isabel but towards myself and my shadows. And today, I can say that I strive to be as consistent and courageous as Isabel.

Do you think the film will spark renewed interest in the exhibition of Isabel Santaló’s paintings?

We can already see some ripple effects, especially after the presentation of “The visit and a secret garden” at the Reina Sofía Museum with Antonio López. Different media are interested in Isabel Santaló. On the other hand, several art institutions are ready to find further information, research his paintings and hopefully reopen his case. Very recently, a page dedicated to Isabel appeared on Wikipedia, and I am actively in contact with various critics and historians to provide all my research materials that I collected during the preparation of the film.