This book is a collection of essays that scratch the surface of the contemporary practice of film preservation, a review of glitches in the curator’s worldview. It consists of sometimes chaotic and contradictory attempts to understand why we should preserve old formats and what the transition from ephemeral film to the equally ephemeral digital format has meant for cinema.
«A film curator looks at an Egyptian pyramid built over 4,000 years ago. He listens to a lyrical melody by Pierre Abélard composed over 1,000 years ago. He sips his beer brewed following an Iranian recipe dating back 7,000 years. And then, he decides to preserve audiovisual history for future generations, without any certainty (especially in contrast to our certainty in stone, notes or taste)—with only his belief in immortality guiding his actions.
He knows that the preservation of analogue films relies on the constantly unstable mix of gelatine emulsion and silver crystals. He knows that the preservation of digital films depends on the unstable nature of the free market.
Still, he chooses to believe that his actions are meaningful. He chooses hope.»
