by Jason Gardner
A few days ago I lost one of my closest friends, one I’ve known since kindergarten.
Andrew Lukas Berends was an extremely gifted artist, filmmaker, photographer, musician, documentarian, and a humanist. Quite concerned with the human condition around him, tackling difficult and serious subjects, he also could be super silly and goofy at times. Tall and athletic and rangy, he was a little uncoordinated in a funny way. Nearly always up for anything social when I called, but yet a bit shy in reaching out.
An intensely private person, he shared with only a few people when he was really struggling with his debilitating depression a couple of years ago. Ironically he had fought back from that to seemingly emerge as strong as ever, taking meds, doing a lot of physical exercise and continuing to make films in demanding places. He told even fewer about his Parkinson’s diagnosis, which until recently he swore he was going to fight. I’m truly sorry he lost that fight.
In no particular order, I remember: helping him pack his bulletproof vest for his first Iraq filmmaking trip, playing guitar in high school youth group, going on many hikes which usually ended up in him jumping naked in a lake or river, being his wing man at the Tribeca Film Festival parties, him speaking at my wedding and taking some great behind the scenes phone shots of my wife and me, him winning the Providence Film Festival, making fun of Ms Hinkel in our high school French class (we both needed to speak French later on in life – should have paid more attention!), figuring out his crowdfunding campaign for raising money to complete a few of his films, hearing the stories of how he swallowed a SIM card in Nigerian jail so as not to reveal his rebel contacts, being his neighbor for a few years in Boerum Hill Brooklyn so I could pop over anytime, hitting Jones Beach or Amagansett for a summer weekend escape, us enjoying the insanity of Rio de Janeiro New Year’s, going sailing with Mike on the Hudson River, various Fourth of July on his Williamsburg rooftop, taking photography walks with no purpose other than looking and talking in Chinatown and Gowanus and upstate, him jumping on Toshi’s car roof in that silly anthropological video we did in high school, us fedexing each other replacement equipment in various foreign locations, the list goes on.
As his video reel shows, he was a sensitive soul, and we had multiple long conversations about how he felt truly alive when in the field documenting these human problems, and his struggle when he was back in NY and not active. He also wanted a normal life and to love and be loved by someone, and he struggled with some of his brave choices like many of us. Clearly he traveled to the most extreme conflict locations to connect to the fire that raged inside of him, that he did not share with many. He and his work will be remembered.
At the moment we have confirmed that on Tuesday 5/28 in the evening there will be a memorial hosted by the good people at Pure Nonfiction at the IFC Theater in the West Village for friends and colleagues, to celebrate his life and work. There will also be a more formal memorial for family and friends, to be announced. We’re also discussing a fund for a charity or filmmaking fellowship of the family’s choosing. More details as they develop.
Big hug to everyone.
Love you and miss you Andy.
Jason
