
Life can take place in any corner where there is a chance of oxygen and light. But also rooted. For immigrants who take the risk, opportunity and luck combine to provide continuity from an alternative location. The phenomenon of migration is still relevant today, but the following lines focus on a real success story of the Windrush generation: that of the Caribbean who left for the United Kingdom between the 1940s and 1970s.
Clovis Salmon was a Jamaican born in 1927 who started life anew, with his family, in London in the mid-1950s. He rose to prominence by manufacturing the fastest bicycle wheels of the time in the United Kingdom (in Jamaica he already had his own company) and for this he earned the nickname Sam the wheels (Sam the wheels); He was a self-taught documentary filmmaker and deacon of a Pentecostal church. He was awarded the Order of the British Empire in 2021. That same year, the Barbican Center (one of London’s most important centers of artistic production and dissemination) dedicated a retrospective to him and his legacy, bearing witness to the Brixton race riots in 1981 between the police and the Afro-Caribbean community, fed up with the lack of opportunities and racism.
Salmon’s death last June keeps alive the flame of his personal journey and the way it intersects with his work as a documentary filmmaker. For Pablo de la Chica, director of Infiltrated in the bunker (a story that tells of an experiment with animals in a laboratory, available on Prime Video), the private life of the person filming must mix with the story in front of the camera: “There is a moment when what we tell, that we represent with the camera, captures us and becomes part of us. We cannot be emotional tourists if we want to tell reality well.” To which he adds: “What Clovis Salmon did has an impact that will go down in the history books. I think he knew where he was going and, therefore, by taking the risk, he decided to document it. I always think that there is someone who has to take risks physically, mentally and emotionally to tell the truth.” For his part, Madrid-based Javier Dampierre, editor, director and also documentarian trained at the New York Film Academy, highlights the work in the editing room: “It is important to remember the emotional impact that these images have the first time we encounter them.
Life in the South (almost all countries in the South) is a little more resilient, slower and less recognized than in the center or north of the planet. This is why the celebration of rituals offers the possibility of putting down roots in a place, making possible the much desired feeling of community. Perhaps that’s why Salmon became a deacon of a Pentecostal community in south London and also took it upon himself to film the services he held with his super-8. One more example that the documentary records milestones, but also observes life unfolding from a perspective close to cultural anthropology, resulting in a genre that develops halfway between journalistic and cinematic territory. According to Dampierre, “it’s a wonderful combination of the two.” And De la Chica added: “I think that the principle of the right to information is the meeting point for many people. The important thing is not to lie to the viewer and to tell a truthful story.” In Clovis Salmon’s legacy, time, distance and even the beauty of a harsh reality collide. One more example that activism, in addition to commitment, also requires a huge dose of complicity.