Nicolás Torchinsky

Vinicius is a sound technician with ultra-sensitive hearing. The film narrates how he perceives the world through invisible noises, transforming the sound of the city into an intimate and isolating experience.

Dismantling the home of some who is no longer here is an act of love, of memory, of mourning. July passed away recently; the camera moves around her apartment and is placed on a series of objects that act as keys to open the door to her intimacy. The voices of those who have loved her guide us while they try to prolong the farewell. In the memories they evoke, to some people July is still Julio, and those names and pronouns that blend reveal the difficulties of embracing one’s identity as a trans woman. During the journey, July’s figure is slowly brought to life, as in an invocation, called on through words, but mainly through her spaces, her things, her photographs, her wigs, her clothes, her favorite music. And a biography is weaved together, one which, like that mirror that still hangs on her wall, reflects the history of an entire community.

Dismantling the home of some who is no longer here is an act of love, of memory, of mourning. July passed away recently; the camera moves around her apartment and is placed on a series of objects that act as keys to open the door to her intimacy. The voices of those who have loved her guide us while they try to prolong the farewell. In the memories they evoke, to some people July is still Julio, and those names and pronouns that blend reveal the difficulties of embracing one’s identity as a trans woman. During the journey, July’s figure is slowly brought to life, as in an invocation, called on through words, but mainly through her spaces, her things, her photographs, her wigs, her clothes, her favorite music. And a biography is weaved together, one which, like that mirror that still hangs on her wall, reflects the history of an entire community.

Dismantling the home of some who is no longer here is an act of love, of memory, of mourning. July passed away recently; the camera moves around her apartment and is placed on a series of objects that act as keys to open the door to her intimacy. The voices of those who have loved her guide us while they try to prolong the farewell. In the memories they evoke, to some people July is still Julio, and those names and pronouns that blend reveal the difficulties of embracing one’s identity as a trans woman. During the journey, July’s figure is slowly brought to life, as in an invocation, called on through words, but mainly through her spaces, her things, her photographs, her wigs, her clothes, her favorite music. And a biography is weaved together, one which, like that mirror that still hangs on her wall, reflects the history of an entire community.

While rehearsing for a concert orchestra, 8 musicians move around the city in a mysterious choreographed movement. Like a clockwork mechanism, they get prepared to perpetrate a robbery.

From a small town between mountains, the voice of an old peasant emerges to make present a lost memory: the solo death of one of his closest friends. Some horsemen, also old friends, embark on a restorative odyssey.

From a small town between mountains, the voice of an old peasant emerges to make present a lost memory: the solo death of one of his closest friends. Some horsemen, also old friends, embark on a restorative odyssey.

From a small town between mountains, the voice of an old peasant emerges to make present a lost memory: the solo death of one of his closest friends. Some horsemen, also old friends, embark on a restorative odyssey.

The “gaucho” tradition is considered here through the story of a couple who are now elderly and living in the hills of Northern Argentina. Starting with their daily routine, their gestures endlessly repeated throughout a life, we look at the details, like heating the water to prepare the mate, rearing goats, and sewing. Time seems to stand still. We also look at matter, the wood that forms the house, the mountainous and arid landscapes. Sometimes, the silence is broken by a prayer or a song that seems to weave the invisible link between the red earth and the starry sky.