“How do you tell a story that does not want to be told? How do you make someone relive the past if it is the last place they want to recall?” These questions frame Finding Fanon Part One, in which Larry Achiampong and David Blandy’s journey between past, present, and future, is searching for a time and space in which the dream of emancipation from coloniality can be realized. The video is a multi-layered exploration of the themes of race, the past and its reiteration, the ongoing impact of colonialism, as well as dreams of freedom in the future, which are addressed in a conversation—an unfinished conversation, as in Stuart Hall’s reference to living with difference—between the two artists as they deal with Franz Fanon’s thought and legacy. In Finding Fanon Part One, the (posthuman) journey begins in water and ends in water. Sea and sky are the subjects of the opening scene in Part One and the final scene in Part Two, acting as chemical and metaphorical connectors through which opposite and apparently conflicting points of view can be merged. Against the background of a world on fire, where the fantasies of progress continually clash with the perpetual recursivity of colonialism—in terms of the expendability of bodies, lives, and lands—the two artists interact to question the “sum of prejudices, myths, collective attitudes of a given group,” as Fanon wrote, and propose an unpredictable attempt at a mutual but nonlinear understanding of what life is, and what it could be, in and outside the grips of the rapacious circulation of capital. Their bodies clad in the same suit, seated in an old houseboat, surrounded by living plants, abandoned furniture, and animal carcasses collected and exhibited on the walls of the room, they are brought together by a corporeal but artificial connection, somewhere in a post-apocalyptic landscape. Their individualities persist but have been recomposed in an unexpected configuration. Mentally moving among the ruins of history, the conversation begins. The interaction becomes a visionary collage of personal and collective memories, historical footage, and fragments of contemporary popular culture. Images without a chronological or geographical linearity follow upon one another without a break, supported by a rhythmic sound carpet and punctuated by a female voiceover reading a script of found text and personal biographies. A few key words enhance the vision: Mother, Father, Me, Home, Country, Enemy, Happiness. The sequence of still and moving images mixes black and white, sepia and colour, showing us wide landscapes, industrial machinery, assembly lines, political protests, urban guerrillas, migrant detention centers, portraits from the colonies, mechanical works, agricultural works, relatives and friends, works of modern art, new technological devices, a burning planet. The conversation opens up a new space, a possible space of encounter wherein oppositional positions are contrasted and destroy the myth of a monolithic—or better monocultural—past. This is a space wherein knowledge and thought are redrafted, even if this understanding might be shredded and the space might be stripped into oblivion. Yet, it is in these intersections that a new point of arrival is envisioned. Here, the alteration of the human decenters the human as a sole figure, and new meanings can be thought, puzzled, reassembled, and negotiated, in constant dialogue with Fanon’s works. Difference and pride, othering and migration, the aesthetic code of blackness and its binarisms are some of the paths where their stories diverge and at the same time intersect in a global nexus. In the threads of their conversation, visualities and histories of racism as an economic, cultural, and affective complex are exposed and the expropriation of resources appears as still marking a past that is not gone, that has only been upgraded with technological advancements. Yesterday’s pineapples and sugarcane industries are today substituted by the extraction and manufacturing of technological devices that are assembled elsewhere. “Aren’t we all colonised now? Aren’t we all colonised by the global corporations?” Interconnected, the two posthumans venture outside, reach the beach, stop on its shore. Here, they realize that “they have been brought up on a fallacy,” they have been encrypted in a history based on deception. Here, they understand the sense of being “not a single cell, maybe nuclei split from the same atom”. (Alessandra Ferlito and Olga Solombrino)