By James Slaymaker.
But the overarching ambition of Dreaming Walls is to preserve an image of the Chelsea Hotel while there is still some semblance of the creative spirit which one animated it remaining.”
Early in Maya Duverdier and Amélie van Elmbt’s elegant, mournful documentary Dreaming Walls: Inside the Chelsea Hotel, an elderly resident talks with a young construction worker who is taking part in the process of renovating the establishment into a luxury tourist spot. The two discuss the rumours of the ghosts that supposedly still roam the corridors of the hotel – spectres of dreamers, artists and eccentrics who met their end within the building’s walls, but still infuse the place with their creative energy. At the end of this conversation, they both detail their respective artistic passions: the construction worker aspires to become a great architect, and the resident reflects fondly on her days as a dancer. The pair then slow-dance together; it’s a touching gesture of artistic expression and interpersonal connection within a room that will soon be swept up in the remorseless forward march of progress. This scene perfectly encapsulates the elegiac tone of Dreaming Walls, a portrait of an icon of New York bohemia that is rapidly being gentrified by property developers who seek to capitalise on the site’s countercultural credentials while simultaneously stripping it of its soul. The Chelsea Hotel was once seen as one of the city’s hot spots, an artistic haven known for attacking high-profile artists like Jim Morrison, Patti Smith, Allen Ginsberg, Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan, but it is now largely perceived as a relic of a lost era. The hotel is no longer a vibrant and dynamic environment at the cutting edge of the cultural zeitgeist, but a melancholic, largely empty living space infested by scaffolding and exposed electrical wire. The building which was once a symbol of youthful rebellion and innovation is now a repository of cultural memories, a faint echo of what it used to be.
Dreaming Walls does not provide an authoritative, chronological account of the Chelsea Hotel, and it is not interested in relaying anecdotes about the famous faces that once stayed there. The opening sequence depicts several portraits of notable former residents projected upon an exterior wall, at night, but, after this moment, the film is primarily preoccupied with the current residents of the complex; the aging bohemians and free-spirits who valiantly hold on to the lifestyles they’ve cultivated at the hotel, even as the structure itself is physically transforming around them. The camera often roves methodically around near-deserted corridors and stairways, giving the viewer small glimpses of mundane activities and letting them hear snippets of everyday conversation. Yet, the film is not preoccupied with detailing the practical process of running the hotel, either – the issues of exactly how the Chelsea Hotel is managed and how its operations have changed over the decades remain unclear. Instead, Dreaming Walls is an impressionistic work which presents the hotel as a space suspended in a transitional state – one steeped in melancholic nostalgia while also being thrust into an uncertain future. The inhabitants that Duverdier and van Elmbt focus on feel as though they are being increasingly pushed out of the building that they’ve called home for years: one couple complain that a construction elevator has been operating right by their bedroom for nearly a decade; another resident observes that the large communal spaces which used to connect groups of creators have been demolished; a particularly distressed inhabitant goes as far to remark that ‘we are not people, we are ghosts’. These people can see the hotel transform into something barely recognisable in front of their eyes, but they are too attached to their memories of the Chelsea to leave it behind.
At the time of filming, the construction work was in its 9th year, and most of the long-term residents had already accepted settlements to vacate their rooms. Those who have opted to remain have been forced to go through legal proceedings to prevent the new management from forcing them out. Yet, even if the new managers of the hotel are no longer interested in preserving the countercultural spirit of the building, the remaining residents strive to recapture it in whatever ways they can. Many of the film’s most moving segments illustrate the acts of creativity and self-expression which are still occurring within the hotel’s walls: choreographer Merle Lister Levine who has lived and worked in the hotel since the 60s – plans, rehearses and records a new dance routine in one of the building’s staircases; artist Skye Ferrante fills his living quarters with intensely intricate wire sculptures; Rose Cory remains committed to staging boundary-pushing pieces of performance art. The sequences in which the filmmakers show these creatives crafting their passion projects are profoundly bittersweet. They (and, by extension, the viewer) may lose themselves in the elation of the present moment, but the film constantly reminds us of the bleak reality facing the hotel. The battle has already been lost, it’s only a matter of time before every last shred of authentic individuality is torn from the hotel.
But the overarching ambition of Dreaming Walls is to preserve an image of the Chelsea Hotel while there is still some semblance of the creative spirit which one animated it remaining. Once the renovation work has been completed, there rich and vibrant history of the hotel risks being forgotten; Duverdier and van Elmbt stress the importance of remembering the true legacy of the location, not just as a once-trendy hangout for the famous, but as a communal space in which idealistic, forward-thinking dreamers were animated by a shared sense of purpose.
James Slaymaker is a journalist and filmmaker. His articles have been published in Senses of Cinema, Bright Lights Film Journal, MUBI Notebook, Little White Lies, McSweeney’s, Kinoscope, Film Comment, and others. His first book Time is Luck: The Life and Cinema of Michael Mann is forthcoming with Telos Publishing. His films have been featured on Fandor, MUBI, and The Film Stage, as well as screening at the London DIY Film Festival, the Concrete Dream Film Festival, the InShort Film Festival and The Straight Jacket Film Festival. He is currently a doctoral student at The University of Southampton, where his research focuses on the late work of Jean-Luc Godard, post-cinema, and collective memory.