When Chantal Akerman left us five years ago, her seemingly endless journey stopped. She had reached her destination, the last station on the line. Yes, Akerman’s more minimalist films were all about stasis, visually. But deep down, hers were films about journeys; into memory, into history, into herself. Stasis and movement depend on one another, they exist because of one another, not despite one another. Akerman’s stasis was an expression of movement, of journeys past and present, about journeys made and journeys to have.