Power in our hands
Synopsis:
Behind the closed doors of the Tetterode building in Amsterdam, one of the biggest artist communities of the city has been living a quiet life for nearly 45 years. The residents squatted the building in the 1980s and repurposed it following the principles of self-management and guerrilla architecture. For decades, they preserved a liberated zone where they could paint, sculpt, write, and be free. Now in the autumn of their lives, the community stands at a crossroads: The commercial real estate pressure is greater than ever and a younger generation must take over. Will there still be room for this unique community in the future of Amsterdam?
Behind the closed doors of the Tetterode building in Amsterdam, one of the biggest artist communities of the city has been living a quiet life for nearly 45 years. The residents squatted the building in the 1980s and repurposed it following the principles of self-management and guerrilla architecture. For decades, they preserved a liberated zone where they could paint, sculpt, write, and be free. Now in the autumn of their lives, the community stands at a crossroads: The commercial real estate pressure is greater than ever and a younger generation must take over. Will there still be room for this unique community in the future of Amsterdam?
Original Title:
De Kracht van Onze Handen
Length: 50’
Year: 2024
Format: 4K DCP, DOLBY SURROUND 5.1
Director:
Onur Can Tepe
Co-Director:
Jelle Baars
Producers: Jana Chocholackova, Magda Augustein
Production company: Stichting Sonodocs and Stichting Smoke & Mirrors
Featuring: Jeroen Werner, Ineke Bellemakers, Una Jongenelis, Serge Verheugen
Original Music: Tomek Gunzel
Camera: Batuhan Keskiner, Julian den Ouden, Kevin Thompson
Sound recording: Jelle Baars, Dimitar Galilev, Axel Ottar
Sound design and mix: Sam Huisman
Funding: Amsterdam Fonds voor de kunst, Stimuleringsfonds Creative Industries NL, EFL stichting, het Cultuurfonds, Vevam and hundreds of crowdfunders.
Artist Statement
About four years ago, I stepped through the closed doors of a building in Amsterdam and found myself in the Tetterode community. Nearly 45 years ago, its squatters built an alternative world shaped by their ideals. There’s a striking contrast between the serene atmosphere of their studios and the bustling, market-driven environment just outside. The spirit of the '80s still lingers there, which is both captivating and concerning, as it highlights the fragility of their existence.
In this film, I aimed to take viewers on a 50-minute tour of the Tetterode community, exploring its spaces and introducing its inhabitants. I wanted to demonstrate to my generation that the right to space didn't always have to come from financial means, there used to be alternative ways to defend your rights. I hoped to reveal to the people of Amsterdam that their city's recent history is richer and more complex than they might realize. And finally, I wanted to show the Tetterodians that, even in their later years, they shine beautifully through my lens.
About four years ago, I stepped through the closed doors of a building in Amsterdam and found myself in the Tetterode community. Nearly 45 years ago, its squatters built an alternative world shaped by their ideals. There’s a striking contrast between the serene atmosphere of their studios and the bustling, market-driven environment just outside. The spirit of the '80s still lingers there, which is both captivating and concerning, as it highlights the fragility of their existence.
In this film, I aimed to take viewers on a 50-minute tour of the Tetterode community, exploring its spaces and introducing its inhabitants. I wanted to demonstrate to my generation that the right to space didn't always have to come from financial means, there used to be alternative ways to defend your rights. I hoped to reveal to the people of Amsterdam that their city's recent history is richer and more complex than they might realize. And finally, I wanted to show the Tetterodians that, even in their later years, they shine beautifully through my lens.
