Featuring Fabio Martins. Fall, 2024

Abstract:

Fabio Martins, a filmmaker and musician from the Quilombo do Campinho da Independência in Paraty, Brazil, shares a deeply autobiographical and politically engaged narrative that interweaves personal memory, community history, and artistic practice. His story begins with three African women brought to Brazil through the transatlantic slave trade in the nineteenth century, who, after being left with their children in the backlands of an unprofitable plantation, laid the foundations for what would become the quilombola territory of Campinho. For Martins, the origins of this community are not recorded in legal documents but held in oral tradition, matriarchal continuity, and everyday practices of care, cooperation, and survival. He situates Campinho’s struggle to obtain the title for the land, achieved in 1998 as the first of its kind in the state of Rio de Janeiro, within a broader context of Afro-Brazilian resistance to state neglect, real estate speculation, and historical erasure. Emphasizing the role of Black women as political protagonists, he frames claiming land title as a form of historical reparation, not merely administrative recognition. Fabio’s trajectory into filmmaking was deeply shaped by this history and his disillusionment with the dominant media’s omission of quilombola and Afro-Brazilian lives. In response, he developed a body of work centered on reclaiming ancestral knowledge, ecological practices, and communal connection. For him, cinema is not only storytelling — it is re-existence, memory-work, and can be a political tool for environmental conservation. A transformative experience in Mbanza Kongo, Angola, where he was welcomed as a returning relative, redefined his identity as “an African born in Brazil” and deepened his understanding of “revolt,” a concept inspired by the late quilombola intellectual Antonio Bispo. Revolt, in this context, does not merely mean rupture; it also signifies return — a spiral movement that animates ancestrality through Afro-diasporic cultural practices such as samba, jongo, and maracatu, etc. As Fabio affirms, these cultural expressions are not diversions from pain but rituals of survival and healing. His films trace transatlantic connections and revisit the routes of enslavement to transform inherited wounds into forms of continuity, recognition, and belonging. In this process, defending and inhabiting traditional territories becomes not only a political act but also a therapeutic one — a way to cultivate collective well-being. Justice, for Fabio, exceeds legal frameworks; it requires affective, epistemological, and reparative efforts. In this sense, cinema becomes a means of resisting environmental conflicts and affirming Black territorialities under threat. Through storytelling, he invites us to “revolt” — again and again — until cinema becomes justice, and justice becomes healing. 

A Community Born of Memory and Struggle:

Fabio Martins, a filmmaker and musician from the Quilombo do Campinho da Independência in Paraty, Brazil, constructs his lecture from a deeply personal and political narrative. Drawing on oral history, family memory, and territorial struggle, he presents the intertwined histories of his community and his own life. His account begins with the story of three African women — Marcelina, Tonica, and Luísa — brought to Brazil through the slave trade in the nineteenth century. Sold to the owner of the Independência plantation during the coffee and sugarcane cycle, they were eventually left in the farm’s backlands with their children after the land was deemed no longer profitable. It was there, through kinship, care, and collective land use, that the foundations of what would become Quilombo do Campinho were laid. Historically, a quilombo is a community formed by descendants of Africans who resisted slavery and established autonomous territories. Fabio states that Campinho’s origins are not documented through written titles but preserved through oral tradition and matriarchal continuity. He explains that the name “Campinho” emerged not from official designation, but from a grassroots process of naming rooted in children’s play, communal coexistence, and territorial attachment. The making of Campinho, he argues, is not just about inhabiting land, but it is about co-creating a collective life shaped by ancestry, cooperation, and the ongoing transformation of trauma into permanence and joy.

Struggles for Recognition and Historical Reparation:

Campinho became the first quilombola community to receive a land title in the state of Rio de Janeiro in 1998. But Fabio emphasizes that most quilombola communities in Brazil still await formal recognition. He insists that titling is not merely a bureaucratic goal; it is a form of historical reparation, long denied to Afro-descendant populations. Legal recognition, he explains, is systematically obstructed by real estate speculation, infrastructural development, racism, and state inertia. At this point, Fabio highlights the central role of women in this history, not only as the community’s founders but also as its political protagonists. The matriarchal foundation of Campinho continues to inform its political organization, showing that Afro-Brazilian resistance is both intergenerational and deeply gendered.

Cinema as Re-existence:

Raised in the rural forested area of Paraty, distant from urban cultural centers, Fabio encountered audiovisual production through the Ponto de Cultura initiative, a cultural policy led by Gilberto Gil during Lula’s first presidency. The program supported decentralized artistic production across Brazil, particularly in marginalized communities. Fabio’s entry into filmmaking began with this initiative and later continued through formal studies at the Darcy Ribeiro Film School in Rio de Janeiro and a subsequent specialization in Cuba. Yet his cinematic vocation was shaped as much by exclusion as by opportunity. He recalls his frustration with dominant media: “I wasn’t seeing my story.” His response was to develop an autonomous filmmaking practice centered on Afro-Brazilian and quilombola perspectives. Through his works, Fabio turns to stories that challenge the notion that Black history begins with slavery. Instead, his films reclaim ancestral knowledge, ecological practices, and cultural ties erased by colonial violence. In doing so, he aligns cinema with territorial defense and environmental justice. Storytelling becomes a form of re-existence, a way to document, protect, and transmit modes of life under threat.

Ancestral Return and the Spiral of Revolt:

Fabio’s journey across Brazil and the African continent sought not only historical knowledge, but also recognition and reconnection. In Mbanza Kongo, the former capital of the Kingdom of Kongo, he was welcomed by a local family who immediately identified him as kin. “They said: you are from here. You were kidnapped from this place.” This encounter affirmed his identity as, in his own words, “an African born in Brazil.” This experience inspired his understanding of “re-volt”, a concept drawn from the late Antonio Bispo, a quilombola intellectual. Rather than merely rupture, revolt here means return, spiralling movement, and cultural continuity. Through circular motion, as seen in Afro-Brazilian cultural practices like samba, jongo, and terreiro rituals, memory is activated not to reproduce trauma, but to transform it. Time, Fabio insists, is not linear: “There is no end, only beginning, middle, and beginning again.” Through circular movement, Afro-Brazilian communities reclaim their histories, their joy, and their futures. In this sense, cultural expressions and celebrations based on ancestral practices are not diversions from pain but vital expressions of survival.

Healing Through Memory, Territory, and Joy:

Fabio outlines that the subconscious holds both trauma and joy — dimensions that manifest through African diasporic cultural forms. Practices like maracatu and tambor de crioula are not mere performances; they are rituals of remembrance and repair. “We are resignifying trauma every day,” he states. His cinema operates within this same logic, not as detached representation, but as a form of ritual, memory, and community pedagogy rooted in the lived Black experience in Brazil. Fabio highlights that connection to place is essential in this process. His travels to Africa mirror his community’s deep-rootedness in Campinho. For him, defending territory is not only a political necessity but also a cultural and therapeutic act. The territories, for him, are not commodities; they are the space for collective care and healing. To build and defend a traditional territory is to build well-being.

Justice Beyond the State:

For Fabio, justice cannot be fully realized through institutional means alone. It must involve affective, epistemological, and reparative work. His films, such as “Agudás” and “Malungos,” revisit the routes of enslavement not to dwell on suffering, but to illuminate the diasporic modes of life. These works trace transatlantic and Afro-Brazilian connections, showing that justice emerges not only through law but also in the act of remembering, reconnecting, and telling one’s own story. In this context, cinema becomes a strategy for resisting the erasure of Black territorialities by state and market-driven environmental violence. In doing so, Fabio contributes to a broader movement among Afro-Brazilian communities and traditional peoples who confront environmental injustices and cultural erasure by affirming their own knowledge systems, territorial bonds, and histories. His cinema is a form of revolt: an artistic and political return to community, to ancestry, and to self. It insists that Afro-diasporic lives are not only marked by rupture, but by transformation and continuity. Through storytelling, Fabio invites us to join in revolt — again and again— until cinema becomes justice, and justice becomes healing.

The complete lecture can be accessed below: