WTF Was That? A masterclass of rebellion and reinvention with Gala Frecon and Sebastien Sperer

A space to reflect on the politics of programming

In the cozy chaos of Peja’s Dukagjini Creative Center, something beautifully bizarre unfolded. As part of this year’s Anibar edition, a masterclass titled WTF was hosted by Gala Frecon and Sebastien Sperer. It wasn’t just a lesson, it was a confession, a protest, and a celebration all rolled into one, proving that sometimes the best things in animation are born from frustration, rebellion, and Microsoft Paint.

It all started back in 2017 when Gala Frecon, then part of the film department at the National Center (NC) where she had worked for 18 years, was sifting through the endless sea of submissions. She was part of the selection committee for short and student films. Among the tidal wave of entries, she noticed something: many films were excellent, but didn’t quite fit the strict competition categories. And just like that, a spark lit up.

“I asked Marcel Jean, the artistic director, if I could create a side project,” she said. “I wanted a space for all the films, shorts, student works, commission pieces that didn’t belong anywhere but deserved to be seen.”

And so, the WTF program was born. Gala did everything: the logo, the T-shirts and the flyers. “From the first year, it was a success. And it kept growing,” she recalled.

Since its inception, over 112 films have found a home in WTF. Gala’s own journey into this world was just as unconventional. “I started at the NC festival as a conscientious objector, I refused military service and worked in an association instead,” she shared. 

She now teaches the history of animation at Bogue School. But the story took a twist: “I was fired by this evil festival,” she said, only half-joking. “Now I’m suing them they didn’t even give me a concession. I hope I’ll be rich in two months.”

For Sebastien Sperer, the story of WTF took a more personal turn. “A lot of our friends thought it was our program,” he said. “So when we heard they were going to continue it without us it felt like they stole our baby.”

In response, they didn’t fight they created. “The theater offered us space for free, including a cool bar,” he said. “It was an emergency for us. We needed to do something. So we said, let’s make another one. A certain baby.”

Without financial support, they leaned on their community. The new WTF was pieced together from a mix of past works and fresh discoveries. “We asked distributors, even some independent directors, to support us by allowing free runs,” said Sebastien. “They knew we were fired. They said, ‘Okay man, I support you. I’ll follow your ideas.’”

This was more than just programming. It was resistance. It was love. It was WTF, a program that defied categorization and embraced chaos, sincerity, and the bizarre beauty of the misfit film.

At Anibar, the WTF Masterclass wasn’t just a showcase, it was a space to reflect on the politics of programming, the integrity of curation, and the rebellious heart of animation. Both Gala and Sebastien reminded the audience that great art doesn’t always follow rules, and often, the most meaningful work happens off the beaten path  in theaters that were never supposed to host it, through programs made on hope.

Author: Gentiana Ahmeti

Photo: Anibar/ David Çavollari