Alejandro Nantón

A man in a small boat reaches an island on the Paraná River. He heads towards a site where there used to be a house or small village. Now there is nothing. Slight signs of something old and lost: the place where he was born. His presence allows the things in the abandoned spot to materialize: huts and tables, animals and canoes. Soon others arrive on the island: his wife, father, friends, and children. This is a meeting of the Man and his loved ones. With the dead, the birds, the river's music and his pain.

Greta and Bruno, her husband, struggle with grief after the disappearance of their son. Their friend Sina travels to the coast to help them sell their summer house.

A couple builds a space to live. When it is finished, before inhabiting it, they invite a group of people to visit it. The invited people circulate individually through this new and empty space. They look, they walk, they talk. The film tries to rescue the effect of that experience in each one of them. So the space itself becomes an experience. What will they leave of themselves? What will they take? What will they show of the human? What is a house? What do you do with the past? The series of people who briefly inhabit that place, recently built, still free of all traces, could be thought of as infinite. The space fills and empties. The residual of that transit remains: a luminous fragility.

A man in a small boat reaches an island on the Paraná River. He heads towards a site where there used to be a house or small village. Now there is nothing. Slight signs of something old and lost: the place where he was born. His presence allows the things in the abandoned spot to materialize: huts and tables, animals and canoes. Soon others arrive on the island: his wife, father, friends, and children. This is a meeting of the Man and his loved ones. With the dead, the birds, the river's music and his pain.

A couple builds a space to live. When it is finished, before inhabiting it, they invite a group of people to visit it. The invited people circulate individually through this new and empty space. They look, they walk, they talk. The film tries to rescue the effect of that experience in each one of them. So the space itself becomes an experience. What will they leave of themselves? What will they take? What will they show of the human? What is a house? What do you do with the past? The series of people who briefly inhabit that place, recently built, still free of all traces, could be thought of as infinite. The space fills and empties. The residual of that transit remains: a luminous fragility.