We’re proud to represent in Cannes a production model built on philanthropic collaboration and a commitment to making these stories freely available to students and the public through academic and public libraries.

Written with intelligent humor, a fine style, a clear structure, brisk narration, and full of details, it breaks some molds of the genre—not only in what it reveals about the young Cortázar and his family, but also through Eduardo Montes-Bradley’s informal, demystifying, and warm tone.

How America’s ideological refugees have found sanctuary in Russia across nearly a century—first fleeing conservatism, now fleeing...

When the Bristows came to Brooklyn, not in pursuit of riches but perhaps something far more elusive: opportunity.

In 2009, I created a film about Cuban-American painter Humberto Calzada. What emerged was more than a biographical portrait—it became a meditation on exile, memory, and the quiet power of art to reclaim what was lost.

We are proud to see 18 of our films streaming on Kanopy, a platform that brings thoughtful, independent storytelling to public and academic libraries across the U.S. and beyond. These titles—now available to students, educators, and the general public—represent over two decades of documentary work exploring history, music, race, art, exile, resistance, and identity.

Documentary Film Fund invites you to discover a curated selection of my documentary films, now available to stream for free with your public library card or university login at Kanopy.com

What began as a quiet walk through Woodlawn in search of Bristow’s forgotten grave led to a four-hour conversation at Bard with one of the country’s most respected educators. A composer once silenced by time, remembered only in stone—now begins to be heard again, through film.

On this Friday afternoon in Morrisania, the neighborhood that was once home to 19th-century American composer George Bristow, I walk in search of traces of a life we know so little about. Camera around my neck, notebook in hand, I begin to ask a question for which I know there may be no answer. This is not the Morrisania Bristow once knew, and that’s fine by me.

A Buffalo Sunday newspaper article from the late 19th century offers a vivid account of the premiere of Niagara…

The camera glides over the rolling grounds of Woodlawn, pausing on tombs that once marked fame, fortune, or civic pride. Names carved in stone, now mostly forgotten. Finally, it stops before a modest headstone: George F. Bristow.

Artificial intelligence, used responsibly, becomes not a shortcut but a legitimate creative tool. And there is historical precedent for this kind of intervention.

Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx, New York, isn't just a final resting place; it's a sprawling outdoor museum, a testament to lives lived, and a repository of history. This video offers an extraordinarily rare and personal glimpse into its depths, guided by Alice Cooney Frelinghuysen, the Anthony W. and Lulu C. Wang Curator of American Decorative Arts at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I want to take a moment to shine a spotlight on the incredible work of my talented friend, Eduardo Galliani, particularly his contributions to the world of Book Arts and Publishing through Antares Portfolio.

Documentaries can serve as cinematic expressions that explore social practices, traditions, and the shared experiences of specific groups.

What happened next remains uncertain. One version says that relatives and their daughters dug their graves before getting shot—buried in a mass grave still waiting to be discovered. Another account suggests they were deported to Treblinka and never returned. Either way, this photograph is the last image of the great-aunts I never had the chance to meet.

Last night’s tribute was more than fitting. It was a reminder that the arts don’t flourish without stewards—those who believe, quietly and persistently, in the transformative power of culture and community. Joe Erdman is one of them. And we’re all the better for it.

When I first started researching George Frederick Bristow, I expected the usual: a 19th-century American composer influenced mostly by European traditions. And sure enough, Bristow fits that mold—born in Brooklyn in 1825, the son of an English-born violinist, passionate about creating a national musical identity.