In 2025, Gabriela Golder’s ‘Conversation Piece’ has an urgent message

Three generations of women gather in Gabriela Golder’s ‘Conversation Piece’ to discuss the Communist Manifesto; a dense book written over a hundred years before. They are there to dissect words, history, philosophy. In front of the lens sits Golder’s two daughters and mother. But behind the lens, Golder sits watching. She is the viewer; the sandwich generation. Stuck and unchanging.

This piece of art feels at once suffocating and liberating. As we watch two 8-year-old girls sit on a much-too-large baroque sofa beside their grandma, the atmosphere is stuffy. And yet. These small girls, who seem swamped by their giant books holding the weight of the world, ask open-ended questions one after another. There’s comedy in this. How can these small hands begin to grasp these giant concepts that literally weigh down upon their laps?

‘As a former Communist militant in Argentina, these words have intense spiritual meaning for her and now, she hopes, for her granddaughters.’

But there’s also hope. Their grandmother answers as if a priest or a theologian. In a way, she is a theologian. As a former Communist militant in Argentina, these words have intense spiritual meaning for her and now, she hopes, for her granddaughters. She offers an inspirational voice of faith, and this hope miraculously fights through the heaviness.

As I watch this film, I am struck by one itching thought. When was the last time I spoke about ideology? As I look around the current landscape of the UK, it’s a difficult question to digest. Just last month, men, hundreds of thousands of them, marched angrily on London in support of the far right. Who did they dissect their beliefs with? I doubt it was their grandmother. 

‘Rather than a concept, ideology becomes an intimate feeling for them. A private emotion. There’s entitlement there, shame, self-pity. Most would call it rage.’

They likely sat in their room alone. They may have spent hours on YouTube watching one video roll into another. Imagine that alt-right YouTubers like Destiny or pundits like Shapiro glare loudly on their screen as they become more radical and more extreme with each passing day. Rather than a concept, ideology becomes an intimate feeling for them. A private emotion. There’s entitlement there, shame, self-pity. Most would call it rage.

But again, I ask myself, when was the last time I discussed ideology? It was, like these two young girls, with a group of women. Sat on a bed in our university dorm. “What is the difference between socialism and communism?” we asked innocently. “Would you call yourself a feminist?” These questions all seem silly now. At 18, we were just like those 8-year-old girls. Questioning everything until we were satisfied we could know no more. And now, I realise I haven’t learnt much in a long time.

When I watch ‘Conversation Piece’ I once again feel like that 18 year old student, with a desire to feel hopeful about the political future. I feel nostalgic for the naivety that allowed me to wonder about these grand concepts, and still feel capable of enacting change. This grandmother, with her tone of warm authority, is giving this priceless gift to her granddaughters without emotion or rage. There is no call to arms here, but just the passing down of concepts from one matriarch to her clan.

‘She untangles these concepts while simultaneously explaining the human spirit: the worker, she explains, wants free time to cook and relax with family and friends. It is not more complex than that. Family and the political, Golder seems to say, are deeply connected.

I look at the grandmother in awe, as if it is the first time I have heard the words ‘oppression’ or ‘worker’. She untangles these concepts while simultaneously explaining the human spirit: the worker, she explains, wants free time to cook and relax with family and friends. It is not more complex than that. Family and the political, Golder seems to say, are deeply connected.

But it strikes me that Golder is still present in this film, even if she is not shown. Silent behind the camera, she is the stuck parent. The 30 or 40 something who is too busy with life to reflect or hope of a different future. Politics, she seems to be saying, is a task for the young and the old. 

And yet, even as Golder hides behind the camera, her absence becomes the most powerful presence of all. She represents the paralysis of a generation caught between memory and possibility; those who inherited their parents’ struggles but lost faith in the power of collective change. In placing her mother and daughters at the centre of the frame, Golder performs an act of quiet resistance: she makes space for conversation itself. 

‘Conversation Piece’ reminds us that dialogue – across generations, across ideologies – is a radical act in an age of YouTube isolation. It asks us to look again at who we are talking to, and what we are willing to believe in.’

‘Conversation Piece’ reminds us that dialogue – across generations, across ideologies – is a radical act in an age of YouTube isolation. It asks us to look again at who we are talking to, and what we are willing to believe in. 

Perhaps, Golder suggests, the work of hope begins not in protest or in policy, but in the intimacy of shared words. In the simple, stubborn act of sitting down and beginning to talk.