The culmination of two years’ work was celebrated in the launch of the film ‘The Last Goodbye’ at the Museum of Australian Democracy at Eureka on Sunday the 8th November.
Shown to a full audience in the intimate hemispherical M.A.D.E theatre, the 18 minute documentary explored the meaning of World War One and remembrance for Ballarat. “It was beautiful,” said one audience member. “Very moving,” said another. “I had a tear in my eye by the end of it and I saw other people did too.”
In 1914 Australia went to war. Thousands of young recruits passed through Ballarat on their way to the front, to prepare for battle and to say a last goodbye.
This documentary film explores the meaning of remembrance and looks at the way the Great War changed us, through the eyes of young people of Ballarat today.
The film was launched on Sunday the 8th November at the Museum of Australian Democracy at Eureka.
Click here to read a full report of the event.
Photographs by Aldona Kmiec and Lucinda Horrocks.
Invitation to Film Launch ‘The Last Goodbye’
UPDATE: 2:30 SESSION IS FULLY BOOKED. EXTRA SCREENING AT 4PM.
The culmination of a year’s work and more of planning is set to launch on November 8 2015 in the first screening of our film for the ‘Memories of War’ project.
Join us for the premiere screening of ‘The Last Goodbye,’ a film about remembering World War 1 in Ballarat.
Where and when: Sunday November 8, 2:30pm, Museum of Australian Democracy at Eureka. THIS SESSION IS FULLY BOOKED.
Extra session Sunday November 8, 4pm, Museum of Australian Democracy at Eureka. Free Screening.
By Lucinda Horrocks, 16 October 2015.
“I realise the dispossession of Aboriginal people and the legacy of racist colonialism is still present in the bones of my home”
Aunty Marlene Gilson’s paintbrush is tiny. It’s narrow as a twig, a fraction the width of her thumbnail. She holds it poised in one hand while rummaging for paint amongst the crumpled tubes lying randomly on a chair next to her. She talks constantly, nervous because we are there. “Where’s the red?” she says. “You know, I can never find it. “ She dips the brush into the paint tube with a practised gesture. “I’m not supposed to do it this way”, she says, “but it’s easier”. She leans close to the large canvas and traces a line, a thread of colour. Bright pigments. Red first. Then yellow, then white. She is lighting a campfire, the simple colours morphing into flames before my eyes. “I wasn’t going to light the fire but I think it looks better.” She dabs on a bit of white and black with a dirty sponge. “That’s the smoke”, she says. And indeed it is, drifting lazily past some tiny figures around a campfire.
“That’s done.” She says.