É Lua ano novo a 23 Janeiro, Clara, e desejo-te um Feliz Ano do Dragão para ti. Caso não saibas, 1997 foi o ano do Boi, o teu signo no calendário chinês. O próximo acontecerá em 2021 e tu terás 24 ! O melhor de tudo para ti, este ano, e em todos os anos. Amo-te. O teu pai Jon
Feliz Ano do Dragão, Clara !
Amo-te!
O teu Pai.
Painting by your father
From the Land of the Rising Sun, Bom Ano Novo, Clara !
Wakaona, Kabuki mask
Painting by Helen Frankenthaler
Amo-te, Clarinha !
Querida Clara
É época de Natal, e assim sendo, suponho que tenhas férias de Natal, preparando-te para algumas festas, recebendo e dando presentes. Espero que tenhas um tempo óptimo e desejo-te um grande Ano Novo. FELIZ 2012!
Vou contar-te um pouco sobre a minha família – e depois, algumas coisas sobre o teu lado materno. Começo pelo teu avô, o meu pai, que ainda está vivo. Tem 97 anos. Apesar de, certa maneira, não estar propriamente vivo, pois está acamado há muitos anos, perdido na doença de Alzheimer. É assim mantido, apesar de ter indicado que gostaria que procedessem em contrário. Não o vejo há 26 anos, e mesmo antes, raramente sabia dele, pois saí de casa aos 17 anos. Não gostava dele. Mas auxiliou-me a conhecê-lo um pouco melhor.
Your grandfather Harry, on the far right; I am the little boy 2nd from the left, then my sister Jolly, my mother’s father, my mother Dorothy; in front the little boy is my cousin David, and my brother, Peter; the woman on the left is my aunt Vivien. Around 1946.
Chama-se Harry Frederick Jost, oriundo de descendência alemã. Creio que o seu pai emigrou para a América, não sabendo com precisão as datas, talvez nas décadas 80 ou 90 do sec. XIX. O meu pai foi criado Downer’s Grove, Illinois, agora um subúrbio de Chicago. Em jovem, creio que foi bastante popular, herói de futebol americano no liceu e cantor. Também tocava saxofone. Os meus pais conheceram-se na escola, bastante novos – 19, e tinham contra si as “vontades” familiares, e tiveram precocemente uma criança, o meu irmão Richard. Pouco depois, o meu pai tornou-se cantor profissional na zona de Chicago, trabalhando com as “Big Bands” e viajando pelo “midwest” em várias tournées. Usava um nome de palco, “Gary Temple”. Isto foi durante a Grande Depressão dos anos 30, quando a economia mundial colapsou e muitos, ficaram muito, muito pobres. Julgo que algo semelhante estará a desenhar-se agora – sendo dificil adivinhar-se quais os desenvolvimentos nos anos mais próximos.
Quando a II Guerra Mundial eclodiu, o meu pai relutantemente juntou-se aos militares, já com 30 anos. Foi para a Escola de Treino de Oficiais e treinou para paraquedista. Demasiado “gung ho”, como se diz – alistou-se demasiadamente depressa, apesar do treino o ter feito perder alguma da Guerra por algum tempo. Esteve em França assim que a Guerra terminou na Europa. Quando regressou a casa, havia uma família com três crianças – o meu irmão mais velho, Richard, dez anos mais velho que eu e ainda vivo, a minha irmã Jolly, quase dois anos mais velha e eu, na altura com três.
Vivemos em bases militares na América – Fort Benning, Georgia, e Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. E viajámos por esse mundo: 3 anos no Japão, quando eu era uma criança pequena; depois novamente para a América, e depois um ano em Trieste, Itália, e Augsburg na Alemanha por dois anos. Depois voltámos aos Estados Unidos, onde o meu pai trabalhava no Pentágono. No final dos anos 50, enquanto eu acabava o Liceu, ele estava um ano na Coreia, onde agora me encontro. Aquando do seu regresso, esteve em Nova York e depois Havai. Era oficial no Exército, responsável pelo “Pessoal” no Vietname – o que significa que decidia, quem vai ou não à Guerra. Ser militar é fazer parte de algo estranho. Para se avançar na hierarquia, ajuda ter estado numa guerra, e apesar dele ter “tentado” entrar numa, nunca conseguiu de facto. Estávamos em Itália quando pensou que aí se daria um conflito, o que não sucedeu aí, mas sim, na mesma época, noutro canto do mundo, na Coreia.
Na altura do Vietname estava já com demasiada idade para combater, logo passou a tarefas administrativas. Quando se retirou do Exército, passou a ser um ferveroso Fundamentalista Cristão. Pelo que parece é tudo com o que se preocupa, espalhando a mensagem por quem esteja junto dele. Quando a minha mãe morreu, 26 anos atrás, viviam na Florida, para onde se tinham mudado, pois a minha mãe pretendia viver mais perto da minha irmã e sua família. Assim que a mãe morreu, ele saiu, retornando ao Havai. Contaram-me que no ano seguinte propõs-se a 5 mulheres diferentes, e que uma – casada na altura, e também uma Fundamentalista Cristã, que acreditava ser pecado casar-se de uma pessoa divorciada – divorciou-se, para assim casar com ele. Nunca a conheci, apesar de lhe escrever de quando em quando.
Desde muito novo, nunca gostei do meu pai, e por muito tempo após sair de casa, confesso não perceber muito bem o porquê. Sabia algumas coisas – o meu pai sempre pensou ter razão em tudo, e sempre pensou saber o que era adequado para todos, para mim, a minha mãe, a minha irmã ou o meu irmão. E que tudo faria para nos obrigar a fazer o que ele pretendesse. Acredito que ele educou e formou a família como havia também sido formado e criado. Desde muito novo – talvez com 8 ou 9 anos, aprendi a desempenhar uma espécie de teatro, que interiormente me levava a querer escapar a tudo isto. Acredito que teria dez anos quando disse aos meus pais que não iria para o Exército. Riram-se e pensaram que estaria a brincar. Mas obviamente que iria, todos iam. O meu pai não me acreditou até eu estar detido por recusa em entrar para as Forças Armadas. Algumas décadas depois de sair de casa, através do meu irmão, e de obrigar o meu pai a admiti-lo, descobri que quando era bastante novo, era espancado quase diariamente por ele. Crescendo em bases militares aprendi a habitual linguagem de caserna, o que na altura não era tão criticável quanto hoje. Utilizava tal linguagem em casa, a minha mãe informava o meu pai, e após o jantar, era convenientemente castigado. Não me recordo de nada disto, mas também não me recordo de quase nada da minha infância. Creio que ao eliminar as memórias dos espancamentos, também apaguei as restantes.
My father, your grandfather, at 97, in Hawaii
O meu pai era um homem elegante, que envelheceu lentamente, permanecendo assim elegante já com 70 anos. De compleição atlética, e já com 97, creio que tem uma boa fundação genética. É também uma pessoa hipercrítica, que infligiu danos em todos á sua volta – minha mãe, irmão, irmã e eu. Sei ainda de outros que também por isso sofreram. Tentou-se divorciar da minha mãe umas duas vezes (ou mais – o que é um pequeno segredo familiar), e fez a sua vida particularmente miserável. Quando esteve na Coreia, teve durante 1 ano um caso romântico com uma mulher. Quando chegou a casa, saudou-nos alcoolizado do avião. Como já disse, saí tão cedo quanto possível, com 17 anos, e vi-o o menos possível desde então. Acredito que nunca percebeu o porquê dessa decisão. Na sua mente, esteve sempre certo, e se eu (ou outra pessoa) não concordasse com ele, seria nossa a responsabilidade e culpa, e seríamos nós a estarmos errados.
Mais coisas te poderia contar acerca dele. Um dia farei tal. Por agora, creio que do lado positivo, talvez lher possas agradecer pelos talentos musicais que tenhas – parece-me que tens alguns (adoraria ouvi-los). E talvez pelas capacidades atléticas e boa saúde. Podemos ambos agradecer-lhe por isso. Por outro lado, podemos agradecer-lhe por nos ensinar a como não viver uma vida, pois providenciou-nos tal exemplo.
Em carta futura, contarei o que sei do teu avô, Alberto, que morreu 6 meses antes de tu nasceres. E da minha mãe.
Desejo-te um Feliz Natal, Clara, e espero que um dia, nos encontremos. Têm sido 11 anos muito longos. Como sabes.Amo-te
Teu Pai
Note: Harry Frederick Jost died in Honolulu on December 28, 2011.
Dearest Clara
It is Christmas time and I suppose you are out of school, readying for some parties, giving and getting some gifts. I hope you have a wonderful time, and next, a great New Year - Parabens for 2012 !I will begin here to tell you a little about your family – the one from my side, and later, some things of the one from your mother’s side. I begin with your grandfather, my father, who is still alive. He’s 97. Though in a way he’s not really alive – he lays, now for some years, in a bed, lost in Alzheimer’s disease. He is kept alive even though apparently he has indicated he would like to go. I haven’t seen him now for 26 years, and before that I hardly ever saw him since I left home at the age of 17. I did not like him. But it helps to know a little of him.
His name was Harry Frederick Jost, which tells that he came from a Germanic background. I think his father emigrated to America from Germany, though I don’t know when – 1800 and something 80′s, 90′s. My father was raised in Downer’s Grove, Illinois, now a suburb of Chicago. When young I guess he was a popular man, high school football hero, and singer. He also played saxaphone. He and my mother met in highschool and at a young age – 19, ran away against family wishes, and perhaps too early they had a child, my brother Richard. Harry became a professional singer in the Chicago area, working with big bands, and traveling to do shows in the mid-west. He had a stage name, Gary Temple. That was during the Great Depression of the 1930′s, when the world’s economy had come almost to a halt, and many were very very poor. Perhaps something like it is beginning now – hard to tell how bad it might be in the coming years.
When World War Two came, reluctantly my father joined the military at a slightly late age – 30. He went to Officer’s Training School and then to train as a paratrooper. Very “gung ho” as we say – meaning he jumped in very aggressively to being military, though the extra training made him miss being in the war by a few months. He was stationed in France right after the war ended in Europe. When he returned home he had a full family with three childen – my older brother Richard, 10 years older than me and still living; my sister Jolly, almost 2 years older than me, and there was me, around 3 at the time.
We lived on military bases in America – Fort Benning Georgia, and Fort Leavenworth Kansas. And traveled some of the world: 3 years in Japan when I was a small child; then back in America, and then to Trieste Italy one year, and Augsburg Germany for two years. And then we moved back to America where my father worked in the Pentagon. At the end of the 1950′s as I was finishing High School he was stationed for a year in Korea, where I am now. When he returned he was based in New York City, and then in Hawaii. He was an officer in the army, responsible for “personnel” in Vietnam – which means he decided at the officer level who did or didn’t go there. The military is a strange thing, and to advance in it, it helps to have been in a war, and though my father tried to get himself into one, he never managed: we were in Italy where he thought there would be a war, and there almost was, but instead there was one half-way around the world, in Korea. By the time of Vietnam he was in a way too old to go for combat, so he did administrative work instead. When he retired from the military, he became a very fervent “Jesus freak” – a fundamentalist Christian. It was, it seemed, all he cared about, and he was always trying to press it on anyone around him. When my mother died, 26 years ago, they were living in Florida, where they had moved as my mother wanted to be near to my sister and her family. As soon as my mother was dead, he left, and returned to Hawaii. I was told that in the one year after my mother died he asked 5 different women to marry him, and one – who was married at the time, and also a fundamentalist Christian like him, who believed it was sinful to marry a divorced person – got divorced and did marry him. I have never met her, though I get and send an occasional letter.
From very early on I did not like my father, and for a long time after I left my home I didn’t really know why. I knew some things – that my father always thought he was right, and thought he knew what was right for anyone else – me, my mother, my sister or brother. And that he would try to force you to do what he wanted. I suspect he raised his family as he had been raised. Very early in my life – perhaps at the age of 8 or 9, I learned to play a kind of theater, and appear to go along, but inwardly I only wanted to escape. I think when I was around ten I told my parents I would not go in the military. They laughed and thought it was a childish joke. But of course I would go – every one did. My father did not believe me until I went to prison rather than in the military.
A few decades after I left home I found out, through my brother, and by forcing my father to admit it, that when I was very young I was whipped or spanked by my father almost everyday. Growing up on military bases I had learned “bad language” which back then was not so common as it is today. And I used this at home, and my mother would report this to my father, and after dinner I would be “punished.” I don’t remember any of this, but also I almost don’t remember anything of my childhood. I think in erasing those bad memories of being whipped, all the other memories were also erased.
My father was a handsome man, and he aged slowly, staying handsome into his 70′s. He was athletic, and living to 97, I suppose he has good a genetic foundation. And he was a completely hypocritical person, who inflicted damage on many around him – my mother, my brother and sister, and me. I know of others also damaged. He tried to divorce my mother a few times (or more – it is a family dirty secret), and made her life rather miserable. While he was on his “hardship tour” in Korea he carried on a year long affair with a woman there. When he returned home, he greeted us drunk off the airplane.
As I said, I left as soon as I could, at age 17, and saw him as little as possible after that. I don’t suppose he ever understood why. In his mind he was always right, and if I (or anyone else) didn’t agree with him, it was their fault, and they were wrong.
There are more things I could tell of him, and someday I will. For now on the plus side you can perhaps thank him in part for whatever musical talents you may have – seems you have them (I would love to hear some). And perhaps also for athletic abilities and good health. We can both thank him for that. In another way, we can thank him for giving a good lesson in how not to live a life, as he provided an example.
In a later letter I will tell you what I know of your other grandfather, Alberto, who died 6 months before you were born. And of my mother.
I wish you a wonderful Christmas, Clara, and I hope one day soon, we will meet. It has been 11 years too long. As you know.
Amo-te
teu pai
FELIZ NATAL & BOM ANO, CLARINHA !
(The paintings are from your father.)
Large ceramic plate in shop window, Yamagata (detail)
Temple bell, detail
10/15/2011
Querida Clara
Na passada semana estive em Yamagata, no Japão, e agora estou num “resort” perto de Fukushima, onde o grande terramoto e tsunami do 11 Março afectou uma central nuclear – nos próximos dias conto ir ver in loco os danos. Também durante toda a semana pensei muito em ti. Em parte, porque há 14 anos, quando tinhas apenas 6 meses de idade, nós – em conjunto com a tua mãe – estivemos também em Yamagata. E estivemos depois num local parecido, mais bonito, confesso do que onde estou agora.
.
Estive a exibir um filme, que de determinada forma, me auxiliaste a fazer – sentavas-te ou brincavas a meu lado, com apenas meses de idade, enquanto eu editava o filme, em Lisboa, fazendo-me uma pessoa muito feliz. O filme era London Brief. E em parte, penso em ti, devido também ao filme que mostrei este ano, Imagens de uma cidade perdida, que foi feito no ano em que te preparavas para nascer. É um retrato de uma parte da velha Lisboa, de Alfama, onde moraste pela primeira vez, Largo Outeirinho de Amêndoa, e nas áreas adjacentes – Graça, Castelo, e também o Bairro Alto. Como vês, é dificil não pensar em ti com todas estas recordações. É-te dedicado este filme. Passam agora 10 anos desde que te vi ou ouvi pela ultima vez. Têm sido para mim, e creio, estou certo, também para ti, 10 anos de perda e sofrimento. Por isso, querida Clara, arrependo-me imensamente, apesar de pouco ou nada poder ter feito para evitar tal. Sobre isso, deves questionar a tua mãe..
Acredito que irás agora começar a Faculdade. Espero que te corra bem, que estudes, mas que também te divirtas. Espero que estudes Inglês (bem como outras línguas) e que possas fazer o que te propões, o que quer que sejas. E espero que de alguma forma, em breve, nos possamos ver como deveria ter sucedido nos ultimos dez anos..
Na próxima semana retorno a Seul, para filmar sobre um coreógrafo local, que está a desenvolver um novo trabalho. E para encontrar tempo para editar um outro filme sobre ti. Chama-se Piccoli Miracoli, Pequeno Milagre. Aparareces nele com três anos e meio. Talvez daqui a 2 anos regresse a Yamagata (o festival é a cada 2 anos). Talvez nessa altura possas vir comigo! Será um sonho!.
Estas coisas ocupam-me durante uns meses, e então talvez regresse ao Japão. Ou aos Estados Unidos. Tudo é actualmente inseguro, dado já não ser Professor e estar livre. Se te pudesse ver, iria a Lisboa, ou viveria mesmo aí, por ti..
É agora Outuno aqui, e Lisboa deve estar linda. Como tu..
Amo-te, Clarinha.
teu pai
jon
Clara in Japan, at six months, October 1997
Dearest Clara
.
The last week I have been in Yamagata, Japan, and now I am at a hot spring resort near Fukushima, where the big earthquake and tsunami of March 11 damaged a nuclear power station – the next days I will go to see some of the terrible damage. During the week I thought and felt much about you. In part because 14 years ago, when you were 6 months old, we – along with your mother – were in Yamagata together. And we also went to a hot spring after (a nicer one than the one I am at now.) I was showing a film which in a way you helped me to make – you sat or played beside me, when you were only months old, as I edited in Lisbon, making me a very happy person. The film was London Brief. And in part I thought of you because the film I showed this year, Imagens de uma cidade perdida, was made in the year you were getting ready to come into this world. It is a portrait of a kind of the older Lisboa of the Alfama, where your first home briefly was, on Largo Outeirinho da Amêndoa, and the areas around it – Graca, Castelo, and also Bairro Alto and other places. It is dedicated to you. So it was hard to not think of you. It has been now a little over 10 years since I last saw you or heard you. It has been, for me, and I am sure for you, 10 years of loss and pain. For that, dear Clara, I am sorry beyond measure, though neither of us had much hand in it. About that, you must ask your mother.
.
I think you must have begun high-school now. I hope it goes well for you, and that you study hard – but also have fun. I hope you are studying English (and some other language as well) and that you are able to do the things you want to do, whatever it is. And I hope that somehow, sometime soon, we are able to see each other as we should have the last ten years.
.
In a week I will return to Seoul, to shoot a film on a choreographer there, who is developing a new work. And to try to find the time to edit another film, one about you. It is called Picolli Miracoli, Pequino Milagre. It will show your first 3 and a half years. Perhaps in two years I will return to Yamagata with it (the festival is every 2 years.) Perhaps you might come with me! That would be a dream!
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These things will keep me busy some months, and then perhaps I will come again to Japan. Or to the United States. Everything is unsure now that I am no longer a Professor and am free. If I could see you I would come to Lisboa or even live there, for you.
.
Autumn is now here, and in Lisboa it should be beautiful. Just like you.
.
Amo-te, Clarinha
.
teu pai
jon
Paris, summer 2011
Querida Clara
.
Espero que tenhas tido um bom Verão – imagino algum tempo em Cabanas, na praia, ou algum em Lisboa. Apenas posso imaginar, pois nada sei de ti desde Agosto 2001..
Em breve, recomeçarás a escola – penso que talvez ainda no Secundário, pois não estou muito certo do sistema escolar português. Acredito ser um grande passo para ti. Desejo-te bem – estuda muito, aprende o mais que possas, e aprecia os teus amigos.
.
Fez agora 10 anos que te vi pela ultima vez, na altura com uma face triste numa esquadra de policia em Trastevere, em Roma, sentada no colo da tua mãe, enquanto ela te dizia coisas desagradáveis. No dia seguinte, ela raptou-te, de forma ilegal, contra as ordens de um tribunal italiano, e levou-te para Lisboa. Desde então nunca mais te vi, e tudo isto tem constituído um desgosto para mim, como julgo para ti. Nos dois anos seguintes, passei a maior parte do tempo tentando fazer-te regressar a tua casa – mas a tua mãe e o sistema judicial português, demasiado corrupto, evitaram que tal sucedesse. Escrevi, publicamente, acerca dessa mesma corrupção – na altura um autêntico tabú, algo do qual não se podia falar – e enviei cartas para os jornais e para os tribunais e até ao Presidente da República de então, Jorge Sampaio. Apenas me respondiam que nada era corrupto e que deveria permanecer calado. Desde essa altura, tudo mudou, e todos concordam com esse diagnóstico no Governo, o sistema é corrupto. Todo ele. Incluindo a parte em que a tua mãe recebe dinheiro para os seus filmes. E tu, foste apanhada no meio disto, uma vitima do sistema legal corrupto do teu próprio país e do egoísmo e psicologia da tua mãe. Lamento profundamente que apesar de todos os meus esforços, nada tenha conseguido mudar. Foi e é uma tragédia para ti, e para mim.
.
Não sei se faças e lês Inglês. Acredito ser normal que alguém como tu – que falava bem Inglês e Italiano com 3 anos e meio – e com a posição proveligiada da tua mãe – continue a aprender Inglês na escola. E apesar de me ter sido, há muito tempo, em 2001, que estavas em aulas de Inglês, quando te vi nesse Verão, quase que tinhas esquecido a língua. Julgo teres sido retirada dessas aulas, e provavelmente de forma deliberada continuaste a ser afastada, para te impedirem de saber a língua do teu pai. Não sei, como nada quase sei acerca de ti, mas como te vi nesse Verão de 2001, quase que mal falavas Inglês (apesar de te teres lembrado rapidamente), e como também consigo imaginar, suponho que te disseram para nunca mais falares tal língua. Se tal sucedeu, é muito triste para ti – dificultará a nossa comunicação, mas também porque presentemente o Inglês é mais ou menos a chamada “língua universal” – algo que auxilia a maior parte das pessoas num mundo globalizado. Espero de facto estar errado e que tenhas aprendido todo este tempo..
Este Verão estive na Europa, e algumas coisas importantes aconteceram. Marcella – que espero possas ver um destes dias – decidiu que deveria seguir por si mesma, e eu concordo que necessitava de tal mudança na sua vida. Tem 34 anos, e precisa de ver e conhecer o mundo. Somos agora bons amigos, mas não vivemos juntos..
Vou agora para Seoul, na Coreia Sul, e espero aí filmar um novo filme com um coreógrafa local, Eun-me Ahn, e depois em Novembro ou Março 2012, conto ir a alguns festivais – um no Japão, Yamagata, onde estivemos os dois em 1997, tinhas tu 6 meses apenas. Aguardo noticias de outros festivais, e de novos filmes. No próximo ano, 2012, irei para os Estados Unidos onde conto iniciar uma longa jornada para rever amigos e família, e talvez filmar um ou mais filmes.
.
Escreverei novamente em breve, contando-te mais factos verdadeiros sobre a tua vida e a tua família.
Amo-te, teu pai
jon
Cabanas, 1997
Dearest Clara
.
I hope you had a good summer – I imagine some time in Cabanas on the beach, some in Lisboa. I can only imagine as I have heard nothing, as has been so since August of 2001..
Soon you will begin school for the year – I think High School now, though I am not so sure of the Portuguese school system. For you a big step. As is each year. I wish you well – study hard, learn a lot, enjoy your friends..
It is now just 10 years since I last saw you, there with a sad face in a police station in Trastevere, in Rome, sitting on your mother’s lap as she said hard things to you. The next day she kidnapped you, illegally, again, against an Italian court order, and took you to Lisboa. I have never seen you since, and it has been a sorrow for me all that time, as I know it has been for you. In the two years after that I spent all my time trying to return you to your home and to see you – but both your mother and the legal system of Portugal, utterly corrupt, prevented that. I wrote, publically, about that corruption – at the time a taboo, something which one was told could not be said – and sent letters to newspapers and the Judiciary and even to the President of Portugal at that time, Jorges Sampaio. They only wrote to say that nothing was corrupt, and that I should be silent. Since then everything changed, and everyone agrees the government, the system, is corrupt. All of it. Including the part where your mother gets the money for her films. And you were caught within it, a victim of your own country’s corrupt legal system and of your mother’s selfish and damaged psychology. It is my deepest sorrow that despite my efforts I could not change that. It was a tragedy for you, and for me..
I do not know if you still speak and now read English. It would be normal for someone such as you – who did speak English well (and Italian) when 3 and a half years old – and with your mother’s privileged position – to continue to learn English in school. And while I was told, long ago in 2001 that you were in English classes, when I saw you in that summer, you almost had forgotten how to speak English. My guess is that you were taken from such classes, and probably were deliberately kept from continuing, in order to keep you from speaking your father’s language. I don’t know – as I know almost nothing about you – but what I saw in summer of 2001 when you hardly spoke English anymore (though you quickly remembered), and as I can imagine, I suppose you were in effect taught not to speak English any more. If it is so, it is sad for you – not only that it makes it difficult for you to speak with your father, but that in the present world English is more or less the “universal” language – something which helps most people out in the bigger world. I hope I am wrong, and that you have been learning English all this time..
This summer I spent in Europe, and with some important things changed. Marcella – who I hope you will meet some day – decided she should go off on her own, and I agree she needs that for her own life. She is 34 years old, and needs to experience the world on her own. We now are good friends, but we do not live together..
I go now to Seoul, in Korea, hopefully to shoot a new film with a choreographer there, Eun-me Ahn, later in November to March, 2012, and go to some festivals – one in Japan, Yamagata, where you went with me in 1997, when you were only 6 months old. I await news from other festivals as well – with new films. And next year, 2012, I will go to America to take a long journey to see friends and family, and to shoot a film or perhaps several.I will write again, sooner, and begin to tell you some of the true things of your own life and family.
Amo-te, teu pai
jon
Your father, shooting a film in 1967
Matera (Basilicata) during its biggest festa
Chiesa, Matera
I Sassi, Matera
Chiesa di S. Ignazio, Roma
S. Ignazio
Tourists as the Pantheon
Giordano Bruno statue, Campo di Fiori
Berlin
Dear Clara, August 2, 2011
For almost a month now I have been traveling - London, Matera, Roma, and now Berlin. Many things have happened and changed for me, and I have been too busy to write. I hope in the next weeks to find the time to send another letter.
Amo-te,
Teu pai, Jon
Wapping, London
In the East End
Muslim fashion in the East End
Ladbroke Grove
The garden behind Robina’s house
Querida Clarinha, 3 Julho 2011, Matera, Italy
Estive em Londres quase uma semana, com os meus amigos Hilary e Stuart, perto da Tower Bridge. Consegui visitar alguns dos meus museus favoritos, estive com alguns amigos, e renovei o meu conhecimento de Londres, um local maravilhoso. Espero que algum dia possa passar contigo uma semana por lá, levando-te a ver todos aqueles sitios maravilhosos.
Um dia…
Amo-te, teu pai
Jon
Dear Clarinha, July 3, 2011, Matera
I was in London for almost a week, staying with my friends Hilary and Stuart, near Tower Bridge. I managed to visit some favorite museums, see a few friends, and renew my acquaintance with London – a wonderful place. I hope some day I might spend a week with you and take you to see some of the great things there.
Someday…
Amo-te, teu pai
jon
Bom Primavera Clara!
Here in Seoul the spring is coming late. Today was rain, and still cool. But the trees are trying. I am sure in Lisboa the bougainvillea and jacaronda are out, and the air is warm. Lucky you! Amo-te, Clarinha !
Jacaronda e bougainvillea de Lisboa
Beijinhos, Clarinha !
Março 27, 2011
Querida Clara
Parabéns! Hoje fazes 14 anos, és quase uma mulherzinha, preparada quase para no próximo ano entrares no que nos EUA chamamos “High School”. Penso que seja isto, apesar de nada saber de ti desde Agosto 2001. A ultima vez que te vi foi ao colo de tua mãe, a chorar, sentadas na esquadra de polícia de Trastevere em Itália, onde foi indicado á tua mãe que teria que permanecer até uma audiência juridica se realizar sobre a tua situação. Ela não ficou, fugiu contigo, raptando-te pela 2ª vez num espaço de tempo de 1 ano.
Quem me dera estar contigo para celebrar este dia, para te oferecer algo, e para te dizer que te amo. Mas, como sabes, tal não é possivel – não porque não estaria aí, mas apenas porque a tua mãe não me deixaria estar aí. Tal como o fez nos ultimos 10 anos. Talvez nos ultimos anos tenhas podido fazer algo, ao invés daquilo a que te obrigam.
Á medida que vais tendo idade, começando nesta mesma carta, vou iniciar o envio de documentos sobre o que realmente te sucedeu. Alguns são oficiais, alguns e-mails de tua mãe ou meus.
Estes documentos começarão a evidenciar-te a verdade – algo que não te foi contado nestes anos.
Alguns serão dolorosos, tal como a verdade é. Mas é melhor para ti saber o que te tem sido escondido. Lamento que isto atinja este ponto, pois tudo poderia ter sido evitado.E começarei também a contar-te sobre a tua outra parte da família, que muito te ama, mas que não te pode ver. Quando for o tempo, serás acolhida por eles de braços abertos, com muito amor.
Por agora, querida Clara, Parabéns and Happy Birthday!
O teu pai que muito te ama, e que tem muitas saudades tuas
jon
14 times around the sun!
March 27, 2011
Dearest Clara
Happy Birthday ! Today you are 14 years old, now almost a young woman, ready to go off to this coming year to what in America we’d call High School. I think this is so, though I don’t really know, since I have heard nothing about or from you since August 2001. The last I saw you was in your mother’s lap, sitting in a police station in Trastevere, Italy, where she was legally told to stay until a hearing could be done about you. She did not, and instead ran away with you, kidnapping you the second time in one year.
I wish I could be there with you to celebrate this day, to give you something nice, and to let you know I love you. But, as you know, it cannot be – not because I would not be there, but because your mother will not let it be. As she has done the last 10 birthdays. Perhaps in just a few more years you might be able to do what you want to do, rather than what you are forced to do.
As you are getting old enough, beginning with this letter, I am going to begin to send you here, documents about what really happened with you. Some are “official” things, some are emails from your mother, or mine. They will begin to tell you the truth – which I am very sure you have not been told all these years. Some of it will be painful, as sometimes the truth is. But it will be better for you to know these things than to have them hidden.
And I will begin to tell you somethings about your other family, which loves you, but cannot now see you. When it is time, you will be welcomed with open and loving arms.
For now, dearest Clara, Parabéns and Happy Birthday.
Teu pai
jon
Surface of the sun
William Turner, Angel Standing in the Sun
Edvard Munch, Sun
Jackson Pollack, #14
PARABENS CLARINHA !
AMO-TE !
And a few little presents for the day:
Monet, Sunrise
Van Gogh, Wheatfields
Poll Friederich, Woman before the Sun
Olafur Eliasson, The Weather Project, Tate Modern, London
Edward Hopper, Corn Hill, Truro, Cape Cod
Parabéns pelos teus 14 anos, Clara!
E que 30,000 sóis mais vejam e te abenoçem !
The following letter was written in early 2002, after taking what legal actions were possible in both Italy and Portugal. It was sent to those listed as well as to a long email listing of Portuguese newspaper writers, cultural figures, employees of the court system, and other public officials. At the time it was sent it was considered taboo to state that civil society and politics were corrupt in Portugal and I was told that while it was generally acknowledged it was so, it could not be said. Within a few years of my continued public denunciations of this corruption it became a commonplace in public discussion. Portugal’s current situation in the newspapers – about to default on its debts and require an EU bailout is a direct consequence of this corruption, a corruption which runs through all political and social elements.
Jon Jost vicolo di Santa Rufina, 50, (Trastevere) 00153 Roma
Phone and Fax: (39) 06 581 4759
E-mail: laragreen@netscape.net February 1, 2002An open letter to the friends and acquaintances of Teresa Villaverde
On November 20, 2000, Teresa Villaverde, returning to our home in Rome after completion of filming her recent Agua e Sal, kidnapped our daughter, Clara, taking her from school, and took her, without informing me, Clara’s father, that she was doing so or securing my consent. Under Italian law, where the act took place, Teresa’s act was a felony crime, punishable by up to 3 years imprisonment. In violating the law, Teresa made what could have been a private family matter a legal and public one.
On her arrival in Lisbon, clearly planned, Ms. Villaverde filed for sole custody with the Istituto do Reinsercao, in process making numerous false and perjurious claims and assertions. In seeking the protection of a public agency, and in her making of fraudulent and untrue claims in process, Ms. Villaverde again shifted a private and personal matter into a legal and public one.
Subsequently the family of Teresa Villaverde, using Mirilia Villaverde’s position as a high-up functionary in the Portuguese Communist Party, corrupted Juvenile Court Judge Rui Machado e Moura, who in violation of the law, of the Hague Convention for the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction, and in direct conflict with the evidence presented to his court, made a ruling which is the obvious and transparent consequence of corruption. In doing so, the Villaverde family escalated Teresa Villaverde’s actions into not only legal and public realms, but also made it a political matter in using the PCP as an instrument for the illegal corruption of the Portuguese Judiciary.
Additionally, Teresa Villaverde personally, in the company of her sister, Joana, her sister’s lover Patricia, her friend Serge Trefaut, and her lawyer, Domingo Lopes, committed a criminal act in breaking into the home of an acquaintance of mine, threatening physical violence against them, and taking a cellular telephone and house keys. The event was reported to the local police station where it is on record, and where the police advised that the action was illegal. The action taken was a felony crime, and was intimidation. The acquaintance did not file charges as they felt their life was at risk, and with the agreement of my lawyer in Lisbon, felt that the legal system, courts and police of Portugual were incapable of handling such a matter in an efficient, honest and legal manner that would protect the victim of the crime.
Immediately following the kidnapping of my daughter, I filed papers with the Central Authority for the Hague Convention in Rome, which in turn accepted that the documentation demonstrated that Clara Jost had been abducted, in violation of Italian law of this convention; the papers were forwarded to the Lisbon office, under the IRS, for the same Convention, where it was approved, and a formal request was made for the return of Clara to her home under the Convention. Judge Rui Machado e Moura, transparently corrupted, in a ruling in February 2001, claimed that Clara was an habitual resident of Lisboa, and hence the Convention did not apply. Without comment he dismissed the considerable documented evidence showing Clara had lived her first six months in Lisbon, and the balance of her life in Paris and then Rome. The Judge accepted, with no supporting documentation, the claim of Ms. Villaverde that she had lived in Lisbon.
A formal request has been made to the Procurador Geral, Jose Adriano Machado Sotto de Moura, that Teresa Villaverde be investigated for perjury and corruption, and that Judge Machado e Moura’s ruling be investigated for corruption. Machado Sotto de Moura’s office, responding to a request from the office of President Jorge Sampaio, sent a three page letter, with numerous false and untrue statements in it, to support his decision to decline to investigate Ms. Villaverde or the Judge. He has declined to respond to a direct request that he state whether he is or is not related by family blood to the Judge accused of corruption. A formal accusation will be made against him, the Procurador Geral for corruption, should he fail to respond to the question, or should his response be in the affirmative.
While awarded temporary custody by Judge Machado e Moura, the terms of this custody provided that Clara’s father could see her each day when in Lisbon; during his stays there Teresa Villaverde consistently violated the terms set for her and those violations were repeatedly reported to the Judge since January 2001. The Judge at no time even acknowledged these reports and did absolutely nothing to correct Ms. Villaverde’s constant illegal violations of his court order, despite a hospital report, made on his orders, which clearly indicated that Teresa Villaverde’s treatment of her daughter was damaging to her.
Ms. Villaverde’s behavior since abducting Clara has precisely fit that of person described in professional psychiatric literature on kidnappers as “obsessive parental alienators.” Such persons are normally paranoid, and often schizophrenic. Their treatment of children under their control is normally abusive, using psychological coerciveness to teach the child to hate the absent parent. The long term prospects for such children is grim. I have directly observed, briefly, Teresa Villaverde’s treatment of Clara, and its effects on our daughter, and it completely fits the descriptions in the literature on this.
Teresa Villaverde is a psychologically and mentally ill woman. The simple fact that she would make a film in which she cast a lead actress to look exactly as she does, to play a role paralleling that of a filmmaker, and then cast her own daughter to play this woman’s daughter who is, in the film twice abducted, and then would carry out the story of the film in reality should for any reasonable person be demonstration enough that Teresa Villaverde has lost touch with reality. Her other behavior merely underlines this. I did, myself, over five years ago, request her to seek psychiatric help for her paranoia; while acknowledging she was a bit odd, she however declined, stating she feared any probing in her psyche would be damaging to her “creative sources.” Also while living with her she commented a number of times that mental illness ran on her mother’s side of her family, and that she feared for her own sanity. However, courtesy of the influence and capacity of her family to corrupt the legal system of Portugal, she has been left free for some 15 months to torment Clara, despite a request made in December 2000 to the Court to have Ms. Villaverde examined by psychiatrists. No such examination has been made.
Complicit with Teresa have been her immediate family – her sister Joana, her sister’s lover Patricia, and her mother, Mirilia Villaverde. Also closely partaking in this sequestration of my daughter has been Serge Trefaut, who has spoken to me in rather explicit terms regarding his pedophile inclinations (a film he made also shows this clearly.) Teresa’s former boyfriend, film sound technician Vasco Pimental has also been an active participant in the maltreatment of Clara Jost.
Teresa’s uncle, Manuel Villaverde Cabral has also been a participant (previously having permitted Teresa to fraudulently list his address as Teresa Villaverde’s residence so that she could use the maternity hospital where Clara was born rather than the one assigned for the Alfama, where we actually lived), and has clearly used his influence to dissuade the Portuguese press to cover this story, despite its having been constantly and fully informed of it since early 2001. That a story involving a well-known figure, who has utilized taxpayer funding to make her work, and who has been openly accused of corrupting the Judiciary and other crimes, is left untouched by the press shows that the influence of Manuel Villaverde Cabral, and perhaps that of the producer of Agua e Sal, Paolo Branco of Madragoa filmes, and perhaps the PCP, goes deeply and poisonously into the cultural fabric of Portugal. The result is to paint a picture more appropriate to a so-called “banana republic” than a member of the EC.
Total exposure of this case will continue, and legal actions for the many violations of the law will be pursued until such time as prosecution and conviction for illegal acts of perjury, corruption, intimidation and any other crimes discovered are brought to fruition, regardless of the parties who engage in these illegal acts – be they the Villaverde family, friends, Judges, or Attorney Generals or others in positions of governmental authority.
My daughter Clara will not be surrendered to the obscenity of what passes for civil culture in Portugal, a culture which is transparently corrupt, as most of my Portuguese friends readily and resignedly admit. Such corruption cuts far deeper than mere law, but becomes a moral and ethical gangrene which afflicts the whole of society, and damages each and every member of that society. I have had the sad occasion to witness it in the family of Teresa Villaverde, in her friends and associates, and to see the devastating effect it has inflicted on my daughter.
Portugal will continue to suffer such abuses of power and influence so long as the people of Portugal sit silently by while such offenses occur on a daily basis, the consequences which are readily visible on the streets the nation’s capital, Lisboa.
I ask that you contact the Prime Minister, the Minister of Justice, the Procurador Geral, and the President and request and demand that Portugal abide by its own laws, and that those who have so overtly and complacently violated them in this case be prosecuted, convicted and imprisoned for their betrayal of the best interests of an innocent child, and also of the best interests of Portugal.
This matter will not be swept under the rug, and justice will in due time be exacted, on behalf of my child who has been utterly ravaged by her ill mother, and by a political and social culture which is itself ill, and has thus far acted in complicity with Teresa Villaverde’s illegal and immoral actions.
Sincerely,
Jon Jost
President Jorge Sampaio presidencia@presidencia.gov.pt Fax: 00351 21 361 4611
Prime Minister Antonio Guterres pm@pm.gov.pt Fax: 00351 21 395 1616
Minister of Justice Antonio Costa Fax: 00351 21 346 7692
Attorney General J.A. Machado sotto de Moura mailpgr@pgr.pt Fax: 00351 21 397 5255
Conselho Superior da Magistratura csm@mail.telepac.pt Fax: 00351 21 474 918
Juvenile Court Judge Rui Machado e Moura Fax: 00351 21 358 2181
