creative writing school
Module 2: Slowness
structure
Introduction
Theory
Inspiration:
Toolbox
Stay grounded & motivated
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Theory
Inspiration:
- Anri Sala: "Intervista" (1999)
Toolbox
Stay grounded & motivated
Share your text with us
introduction
Silence is not a monolith; it takes on countless forms and meanings. There’s the silence of discomfort, where words fail under the weight of tension, and the romantic silence shared between lovers when words are no longer necessary. Silence can speak of desire, where longing is suspended in the unspoken, or of fear, when what remains unsaid reveals the depths of our anxieties. But silence also carries more complex roles. It can be a tool of domination—used in education, censorship, and political control to suppress voices and ideas—or a path to introspection, offering the space for deep reflection and self-discovery. In this creative writing course, we’ll explore silence in its many forms, including its role in art. Through the work of Anri Sala, particularly in his film Intervista, we will examine how silence reveals lost histories and forgotten languages, suspending time and inviting us to question the stories we tell, and those we cannot.
theory
Silence is a weapon. It is wielded skillfully in spaces where power desires control—education, religion, and politics. Its force is subtle, invisible, but incredibly effective in shaping behavior, beliefs, and, most importantly, in stifling dissent. In these arenas, silence becomes more than absence; it is engineered, constructed, and imposed to maintain authority.
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In religious education, silence has historically been a means to instill obedience. Think of the classroom where questions are discouraged, where doubt is seen as a sin rather than a path to understanding. Michel Foucault’s work on power structures illuminates how institutions, like the church, construct systems of silence to control knowledge. Silence becomes the boundary that defines the acceptable and the heretical. It is not merely the absence of speech but the suppression of alternatives—other voices, other ways of thinking. The silent submission to authority is taught as moral righteousness, a kind of divine obedience. This is not the silence of contemplation but a weaponized silence that keeps people compliant, afraid of stepping out of line.
In education, especially under oppressive regimes, silence is used as a tool to preserve the status quo. Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed calls attention to the "culture of silence" fostered by traditional education systems, where students are treated as passive recipients of information rather than active participants in dialogue. In this system, silence is imposed on the learner, encouraging memorization over critical thinking, conformity over creativity. It discourages questions, which are seen as dangerous and disruptive. This manufactured silence protects the system itself by ensuring that individuals remain unaware of their own capacity for change and revolution.
This silence extends beyond the classroom and into the political sphere. Censorship is perhaps the most explicit form of silencing, where regimes erase dissent by making it unspeakable. Hannah Arendt in The Origins of Totalitarianism describes how totalitarian states depend on silencing public discourse, eliminating any opportunity for individuals to communicate opposition. Silence becomes a state policy, and fear becomes its enforcer. In this context, silence is both external and internal: people are made silent by the threat of violence, but they also silence themselves in self-preservation. This silencing is more than just an act of removing voices; it is an erasure of possibilities, of futures that could have been spoken into existence.
But silence, while often imposed from above, can also be a radical tool of introspection and resistance. It can create a space for critique, for thinking beyond the structures that silence us. Consider John Cage’s 4'33”, a piece where a performer sits in silence for exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds. The work’s brilliance lies in its provocation: it forces the audience to listen, not to the music, but to the surrounding environment—the noises, the breathing, the rustling. Silence here is not empty; it is full of the world’s subtle symphonies. This act of making silence audible is an invitation to become aware of what we normally ignore. In many ways, Cage’s piece is a defiance against the noise of the world—against the constant bombardment of information, ideologies, and expectations. It offers a return to what Simone Weil calls attention, a deep, patient listening to what is essential.
In psychology, silence is often analyzed as a form of resistance. Sigmund Freud’s concept of repression highlights how silence functions in the psyche as an act of denial—thoughts and memories that are too painful or disruptive are silenced within the mind. Yet these silences are never truly passive; they resurface in dreams, slips of the tongue, and other unconscious acts. Jacques Lacan’s work on language and the Real extends this, positing that silence is not the absence of language but its limit. What cannot be spoken within the symbolic order—the structure of language and society—falls into silence. However, this silence is where the truth often resides, lurking beneath the surface of what is sayable.
In art history, silence is often explored as both a subject and a medium. Anri Sala’s Intervista offers a powerful case study, where the silence of a lost soundtrack becomes a metaphor for historical amnesia. In searching for the words his mother spoke as a young communist, Sala engages with the silence of memory—both personal and collective. His work compels us to question what happens when a narrative is incomplete, when history is silenced either by technical failure or by ideological erasure. Silence in this context is a vacuum, a gap that asks to be filled but refuses simple answers.
In education, especially under oppressive regimes, silence is used as a tool to preserve the status quo. Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed calls attention to the "culture of silence" fostered by traditional education systems, where students are treated as passive recipients of information rather than active participants in dialogue. In this system, silence is imposed on the learner, encouraging memorization over critical thinking, conformity over creativity. It discourages questions, which are seen as dangerous and disruptive. This manufactured silence protects the system itself by ensuring that individuals remain unaware of their own capacity for change and revolution.
This silence extends beyond the classroom and into the political sphere. Censorship is perhaps the most explicit form of silencing, where regimes erase dissent by making it unspeakable. Hannah Arendt in The Origins of Totalitarianism describes how totalitarian states depend on silencing public discourse, eliminating any opportunity for individuals to communicate opposition. Silence becomes a state policy, and fear becomes its enforcer. In this context, silence is both external and internal: people are made silent by the threat of violence, but they also silence themselves in self-preservation. This silencing is more than just an act of removing voices; it is an erasure of possibilities, of futures that could have been spoken into existence.
But silence, while often imposed from above, can also be a radical tool of introspection and resistance. It can create a space for critique, for thinking beyond the structures that silence us. Consider John Cage’s 4'33”, a piece where a performer sits in silence for exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds. The work’s brilliance lies in its provocation: it forces the audience to listen, not to the music, but to the surrounding environment—the noises, the breathing, the rustling. Silence here is not empty; it is full of the world’s subtle symphonies. This act of making silence audible is an invitation to become aware of what we normally ignore. In many ways, Cage’s piece is a defiance against the noise of the world—against the constant bombardment of information, ideologies, and expectations. It offers a return to what Simone Weil calls attention, a deep, patient listening to what is essential.
In psychology, silence is often analyzed as a form of resistance. Sigmund Freud’s concept of repression highlights how silence functions in the psyche as an act of denial—thoughts and memories that are too painful or disruptive are silenced within the mind. Yet these silences are never truly passive; they resurface in dreams, slips of the tongue, and other unconscious acts. Jacques Lacan’s work on language and the Real extends this, positing that silence is not the absence of language but its limit. What cannot be spoken within the symbolic order—the structure of language and society—falls into silence. However, this silence is where the truth often resides, lurking beneath the surface of what is sayable.
In art history, silence is often explored as both a subject and a medium. Anri Sala’s Intervista offers a powerful case study, where the silence of a lost soundtrack becomes a metaphor for historical amnesia. In searching for the words his mother spoke as a young communist, Sala engages with the silence of memory—both personal and collective. His work compels us to question what happens when a narrative is incomplete, when history is silenced either by technical failure or by ideological erasure. Silence in this context is a vacuum, a gap that asks to be filled but refuses simple answers.
inspiration
Anri Sala's Intervista and the topic of silence
Anri Sala’s Intervista (1999) is deeply intertwined with the theme of silence, both as a literal absence of sound and as a metaphor for the forgotten and suppressed narratives of a turbulent political era. The film captures Sala’s discovery of a 16mm black-and-white reel of his mother, Valdet, as a young communist activist speaking at a youth congress in Albania during the dictatorship of Enver Hoxha. The soundtrack of the film, however, is missing—rendering the interview with his mother silent. This absence becomes the catalyst for Sala’s search for her lost language, which in turn opens a space to explore the broader implications of silence in personal and collective memory.
Silence in Intervista operates on multiple levels. On one hand, there is the literal silence of the missing sound from the film. Without the spoken words, the film itself becomes a ghostly artifact, a relic from the past that has lost a vital part of its original meaning. This missing audio symbolizes the erasure or forgetting of the past, both in a personal and historical context. The effort to recover the lost words through lip-reading, with the help of a school for the deaf, is a powerful metaphor for the painstaking process of reclaiming history. Sala’s mother, once a fervent communist, can no longer recall the rhetoric she espoused, reflecting how personal memories and political ideologies fade over time, leaving gaps, silences, and uncertainties.
From a psychological perspective, silence in Intervista also reflects the emotional distance and dissonance between past and present. Valdet’s inability to remember what she said reflects the disconnection from her younger self and the political convictions she once held. The silence in the film serves as a mirror for this internal silence—a kind of forgetting or repression that happens as people move on from one stage of life to another. The lost words are not just an issue of technical failure, but also speak to the larger issue of how regimes and ideologies can control and manipulate personal and collective memory, leaving voids in understanding and reflection.
In a political context, the silence in Intervista can be seen as a reflection of the silence imposed by authoritarian regimes, where dissenting voices were muted and narratives controlled. The missing soundtrack acts as a metaphor for the silencing of the individual under dictatorship, particularly for those like Sala’s mother who were once part of the system but have since distanced themselves from it. The absence of sound captures the suppression of critical reflection under the weight of ideological conformity, symbolizing how personal voices are drowned out by the grand, often oppressive, narratives of history.
Moreover, Sala’s approach to recovering the lost language can be viewed as an act of resistance against silence. By reconstructing his mother’s words, Sala challenges the silence imposed by time, memory, and political transformation. His work creates a dialogue between past and present, offering a space for his mother—and by extension, the viewer—to reconsider the ideologies that once shaped her life.
In this way, Intervista transforms silence into an active space of inquiry. Rather than seeing it as mere absence, Sala uses silence as a means to investigate what has been lost, forgotten, or repressed, both in personal memory and in the broader political history of Albania. Silence here is not simply a void but a rich, complex space that asks to be filled with reflection, dialogue, and meaning.
Finally, the film reflects on the fragility of language and memory. Even when Sala retrieves his mother’s lost words, their meaning has shifted over time. The young woman speaking in the film and the older woman watching it are no longer the same person, creating a poignant tension between what is remembered and what is forgotten, what was once passionately declared and what has now faded into silence.
Silence in Intervista operates on multiple levels. On one hand, there is the literal silence of the missing sound from the film. Without the spoken words, the film itself becomes a ghostly artifact, a relic from the past that has lost a vital part of its original meaning. This missing audio symbolizes the erasure or forgetting of the past, both in a personal and historical context. The effort to recover the lost words through lip-reading, with the help of a school for the deaf, is a powerful metaphor for the painstaking process of reclaiming history. Sala’s mother, once a fervent communist, can no longer recall the rhetoric she espoused, reflecting how personal memories and political ideologies fade over time, leaving gaps, silences, and uncertainties.
From a psychological perspective, silence in Intervista also reflects the emotional distance and dissonance between past and present. Valdet’s inability to remember what she said reflects the disconnection from her younger self and the political convictions she once held. The silence in the film serves as a mirror for this internal silence—a kind of forgetting or repression that happens as people move on from one stage of life to another. The lost words are not just an issue of technical failure, but also speak to the larger issue of how regimes and ideologies can control and manipulate personal and collective memory, leaving voids in understanding and reflection.
In a political context, the silence in Intervista can be seen as a reflection of the silence imposed by authoritarian regimes, where dissenting voices were muted and narratives controlled. The missing soundtrack acts as a metaphor for the silencing of the individual under dictatorship, particularly for those like Sala’s mother who were once part of the system but have since distanced themselves from it. The absence of sound captures the suppression of critical reflection under the weight of ideological conformity, symbolizing how personal voices are drowned out by the grand, often oppressive, narratives of history.
Moreover, Sala’s approach to recovering the lost language can be viewed as an act of resistance against silence. By reconstructing his mother’s words, Sala challenges the silence imposed by time, memory, and political transformation. His work creates a dialogue between past and present, offering a space for his mother—and by extension, the viewer—to reconsider the ideologies that once shaped her life.
In this way, Intervista transforms silence into an active space of inquiry. Rather than seeing it as mere absence, Sala uses silence as a means to investigate what has been lost, forgotten, or repressed, both in personal memory and in the broader political history of Albania. Silence here is not simply a void but a rich, complex space that asks to be filled with reflection, dialogue, and meaning.
Finally, the film reflects on the fragility of language and memory. Even when Sala retrieves his mother’s lost words, their meaning has shifted over time. The young woman speaking in the film and the older woman watching it are no longer the same person, creating a poignant tension between what is remembered and what is forgotten, what was once passionately declared and what has now faded into silence.
creative writing exercises
warm-up exercise: exploring the types of silence
Before we dive into deeper creative writing, let’s begin by reflecting on the different types of silence that exist in our lives, our surroundings, and within ourselves. Silence is more than the absence of sound—it is layered with meaning, intention, and emotion. Take a moment to think about the various silences you’ve encountered. Write down a list of as many types of silence as you can. Here are a few to get you started:
Once you’ve completed your list, pick 1-3 type of silence that stands out to you. Write a short paragraph describing a specific moment when you experienced that silence. Focus on the feelings, the atmosphere, and the unspoken tension or understanding that existed in that specific silence.
- The silence of anticipation
- The silence after an argument
- The awkward silence between strangers
- The comforting silence shared with a loved one
- The silence of nature
- The silence of fear
- The silence of mourning
- The silence of oppression and censorship
- The silence of introspection
- The silence of forgetting
Once you’ve completed your list, pick 1-3 type of silence that stands out to you. Write a short paragraph describing a specific moment when you experienced that silence. Focus on the feelings, the atmosphere, and the unspoken tension or understanding that existed in that specific silence.
writing prompt: silence and the lost voice in Intervista
In Intervista, Anri Sala searches for the lost voice of his mother in a silent film of her youth. The missing soundtrack becomes symbolic of both personal and collective memory—of what is remembered, what is forgotten, and what is left unsaid. In this prompt, we will explore the theme of lost voices and silenced memories.
Imagine finding a piece of your own past—a letter, a photograph, or a recording—that is incomplete or silent in some way. The key detail, the voice, or the memory attached to it is missing. Write a story in which you try to uncover the meaning or the words behind this silence. What is missing? What do you hope to find? And what do you discover, not only about the artifact but about yourself in the process?
As you write, think about how silence shapes the narrative. How does the absence of sound or clarity create tension or reveal hidden truths? Consider how the form of silence might influence the structure of your writing—short, fragmented sentences, pauses between dialogue, or even sections where nothing is said. Let the silence guide you.
Imagine finding a piece of your own past—a letter, a photograph, or a recording—that is incomplete or silent in some way. The key detail, the voice, or the memory attached to it is missing. Write a story in which you try to uncover the meaning or the words behind this silence. What is missing? What do you hope to find? And what do you discover, not only about the artifact but about yourself in the process?
As you write, think about how silence shapes the narrative. How does the absence of sound or clarity create tension or reveal hidden truths? Consider how the form of silence might influence the structure of your writing—short, fragmented sentences, pauses between dialogue, or even sections where nothing is said. Let the silence guide you.
toolbox
Silence is not merely the absence of sound; it is a presence that can shape narratives, evoke emotions, and create spaces for reflection. Writing with silence invites readers to engage deeply, offering them moments to pause, to breathe, and to consider the weight of what remains unspoken. Here are some strategies to cultivate silence in your writing, allowing it to resonate powerfully within your text.
1. Embrace visual interpretation
Translate silence into visual form to convey its significance. Allow your paragraphs to breathe by playing with space.
2. Incorporate pauses
Use ellipses, dashes, or intentional breaks in dialogue to represent unspoken thoughts or hesitation.
3. Create atmosphere through description
Describe environments that evoke silence. Use sensory details to draw readers into a scene where silence is palpable.
4. Use repetition to emphasize absence
Repeat certain phrases or ideas to create a sense of longing or emptiness. This can highlight the silence that surrounds the main narrative.
5. Introduce silence as character
Personify silence as a character in your narrative. Consider how silence can have its own motivations and effects on others.
6. Engage the reader’s imagination
Leave gaps in the narrative that invite readers to fill in the silence with their own interpretations.
7. Explore symbolism and metaphor
Use symbolic elements to convey silence. Objects, colors, or weather can all embody silence or the absence of voice.
1. Embrace visual interpretation
Translate silence into visual form to convey its significance. Allow your paragraphs to breathe by playing with space.
2. Incorporate pauses
Use ellipses, dashes, or intentional breaks in dialogue to represent unspoken thoughts or hesitation.
3. Create atmosphere through description
Describe environments that evoke silence. Use sensory details to draw readers into a scene where silence is palpable.
4. Use repetition to emphasize absence
Repeat certain phrases or ideas to create a sense of longing or emptiness. This can highlight the silence that surrounds the main narrative.
5. Introduce silence as character
Personify silence as a character in your narrative. Consider how silence can have its own motivations and effects on others.
6. Engage the reader’s imagination
Leave gaps in the narrative that invite readers to fill in the silence with their own interpretations.
7. Explore symbolism and metaphor
Use symbolic elements to convey silence. Objects, colors, or weather can all embody silence or the absence of voice.
stay grounded and motivated!
"To close this chapter on silence, I want to offer a personal reflection that encapsulates my journey and the essence of our exploration. As a choreographer, it’s no accident that I found my path in movement rather than in spoken words. For me, the act of speaking has always felt daunting; words can carry weight that feels too heavy to bear. They can wound unintentionally, serve as weapons, and, at times, become barriers to authentic expression. This understanding guided me towards movement—a language of the body that transcends the limitations of speech. In this silent dialogue, the body becomes my raw material, communicating through emotion, intuition, and empathy, rather than the clumsy weight of words.
Over time, I learned to navigate the delicate relationship between silence and speech. I began to tame words, opening my mouth to articulate my thoughts and assert my voice. This journey is intertwined with my identity as a woman growing up in communist Hungary, shaped by political landscapes and cultural narratives that often silenced women's voices. In that context, silence was not merely a lack of sound; it was a form of resistance and survival.
As we conclude our exploration of silence, I encourage you to find your voice—loud and proud. Share your unique, beautiful, and subversive perspectives with the world. Your voice holds power; it is your art, your truth, and a testament to your journey. Embrace the fullness of expression that lies within you, and let it resonate in all the spaces you inhabit."
—Anna Ádám
Founder of the School of Disobedience
Over time, I learned to navigate the delicate relationship between silence and speech. I began to tame words, opening my mouth to articulate my thoughts and assert my voice. This journey is intertwined with my identity as a woman growing up in communist Hungary, shaped by political landscapes and cultural narratives that often silenced women's voices. In that context, silence was not merely a lack of sound; it was a form of resistance and survival.
As we conclude our exploration of silence, I encourage you to find your voice—loud and proud. Share your unique, beautiful, and subversive perspectives with the world. Your voice holds power; it is your art, your truth, and a testament to your journey. Embrace the fullness of expression that lies within you, and let it resonate in all the spaces you inhabit."
—Anna Ádám
Founder of the School of Disobedience
Photo: Anna Ádám