The last time I sang my country’s national anthem was during the demonstration on 11 July 2021. Many of us in Cuba sang the anthem that day, filled with an indescribable emotion. Then silence fell. Something had been broken, and since then the anthem has never been sung in the same way again.

My name is Frank D. Blanco. I am a Cuban independent filmmaker and writer, and since my grandfather’s death in February this year, I have been working on a documentary about his life story, the dream of the generation to which he belonged (the one tasked with building the socialist revolution), and how my generation is coming to terms with the legacy of that shattered dream.

My grandfather was the lead voice at the microphone when the official recording of my country’s anthem was made. He always recounted how he was asked to stand in the centre, slightly ahead of everyone else, and to sing as if he were in battle. Although he had gone to the war in Angola in 1977, he was never directly involved in combat. He poured all his imagination and will into the recording of the Cuban National Anthem. He was driven by the power of a love that, most likely, neither I nor anyone of my generation will ever be able to experience again.

Reading the letters my grandfather wrote and looking through the family photographs, I discovered that behind his life there really was a kind of miracle: something that filled him with faith and passion, and which appeared to him in a dream whilst he was in the war in Angola. During the last years of his life, my grandfather never stopped talking about this. He called it his Guardian Angel. At the same time, during this stage of his life, he devoted his efforts to cutting out many paper stars, which he accumulated until he had filled a bag weighing several kilograms. According to him, he did this to fight Parkinson’s. Faced with his obsession with cutting out stars, for the first time in my life I felt the desire to film something. Now, after his death, I have set out to make a film using those first images I shot with a video camera.

This year, my film project has been selected for the Master’s in Film Creation at Elías Querejeta Zine Eskola (EQZE) in Donostia/San Sebastián. This is one of the most renowned film schools in the world.

Both for its excellent tutoring and its curriculum, which focuses on experimentation, archiving and alternative ways of telling a story, EQZE has always struck me as the ideal school to train as a documentary filmmaker and develop the narrative structure I will use to tell the story of my film.

In Cuba, I no longer have the opportunity to pursue studies of this kind. I graduated in TV and Children’s and Youth Production from the International Film and Television School (EICTV), and this means, amongst other things, that I can no longer study Documentary at the only film school in my country. During my Production studies, I learnt the tools needed to make a film, but I was never made to question the meaning of filmmaking or of shooting a specific shot. For me, it is a great opportunity to be able to answer these questions with the support I will find on the Master’s in Film Creation at EQZE. This year, over 200 candidates applied, and being selected was by no means arbitrary.

I have already covered 20% of the tuition fees from my own funds to secure my place, which amounts to €940.00. Given the conditions in Cuba, it was very difficult to raise this money, which is why I am launching this crowdfunding campaign with the aim of raising the €7,800 I need to cover the tuition fees, return airfare, and living expenses for the duration of the course. Anyone wishing to contribute to the crowdfunding campaign will be credited in the final version of the film, whose working title is “Blanco en la Estrella”.

So far, the film has benefited from the support and guidance of Paz Encina, through the online workshop “Compañero del Viento” run by Silencio Lab, where, over the course of 18 weeks, I have developed the film’s structure and script, whilst also gathering references and ideas that have helped me understand the approach I wish to pursue.

Bibata Uribe, who has been working to promote Latin American cinema in Europe since 2009, is also joining this project following a very special meeting at the EICTV. There we shared an intense professional experience, where, amidst talks, screenings and reflections on cinema, we discovered a shared sensibility. We are united by the desire to give space to memories that resist silence. With her background in curation and dissemination, Bibata brings a valuable perspective that enriches and supports this project on its journey towards realisation.

It’s curious; a few months ago, this project was nothing more than another forgotten idea tucked away in a drawer alongside family photographs. My studies at EICTV hadn’t left me the time needed to explore it. Now, every time I return to writing and research, I feel my perspective on the world and on cinema being reshaped; I feel I am beginning to understand the meaning of love in the images of my country with the same intensity with which my grandfather felt the inspiration that helped him compose the anthem. On one occasion, a friend told me that my grandfather was accompanying me in this process. I am beginning to think so too: this film is my way of returning to him, to understand what that Great Love is that lies behind everything, even though it seems as though the country is dying.