Luis Esguerra Cifuentes

Authorities have prohibited access to a forest on the outskirts of the city. Strange vegetation has infested the area, and those who have been questioned report sightings of rare species, human-sized birds, or figures that appear and disappear. Despite the restrictions, several people decide to visit the place. Once there, they coexist and play without fear of the warnings. Little by little, reality begins to distort, blending with their memories, dreams, and fantasies.

Salomé reviews decades of family videos to understand her mother's sadness. In this search, she uncovers a past marked by exploitation and historical violence in Colombia and Latin America. By using artificial intelligence to imagine a less terrible world, she discovers that it is easier for us to conceive the end of the world than the end of capitalism.

They open the doors and lean out: their whistles travel the rails across the town. The dogs get up. The children put out their cigarettes. They have arrived, and now, all is still.

Composed by Tú me hiciste ver el cielo (FidMarseille 2023) and another unpublished exercise with material from that short film, Luis Esgurra Cifuentes delivers a new work entitled Yo sentí tu luz atravesarme. An experience that crystallizes the spirit of «queer» from its formal and philosophical aspect. Through the vast diversity of characters, bodies, substances, resources and formats, the film insists on finding a substance that is, but is not of this world.

'You made me see the sky' – a nice title inspired by a song by Shakira – is a mutant film that keeps changing, and it seems to be influenced by Donna Haraway’s thought. It encourages us to reconnect with the buried chthonian powers, and to merge with the trees and with each other.

Banned languages, books telling stories of alien children, and strange sculptures that resemble spaceships. The history of the suppression of the Basque language during Franco’s dictatorship opens the door to the invisible.

Authorities have prohibited access to a forest on the outskirts of the city. Strange vegetation has infested the area, and those who have been questioned report sightings of rare species, human-sized birds, or figures that appear and disappear. Despite the restrictions, several people decide to visit the place. Once there, they coexist and play without fear of the warnings. Little by little, reality begins to distort, blending with their memories, dreams, and fantasies.

Salomé reviews decades of family videos to understand her mother's sadness. In this search, she uncovers a past marked by exploitation and historical violence in Colombia and Latin America. By using artificial intelligence to imagine a less terrible world, she discovers that it is easier for us to conceive the end of the world than the end of capitalism.

They open the doors and lean out: their whistles travel the rails across the town. The dogs get up. The children put out their cigarettes. They have arrived, and now, all is still.

Composed by Tú me hiciste ver el cielo (FidMarseille 2023) and another unpublished exercise with material from that short film, Luis Esgurra Cifuentes delivers a new work entitled Yo sentí tu luz atravesarme. An experience that crystallizes the spirit of «queer» from its formal and philosophical aspect. Through the vast diversity of characters, bodies, substances, resources and formats, the film insists on finding a substance that is, but is not of this world.

'You made me see the sky' – a nice title inspired by a song by Shakira – is a mutant film that keeps changing, and it seems to be influenced by Donna Haraway’s thought. It encourages us to reconnect with the buried chthonian powers, and to merge with the trees and with each other.

Banned languages, books telling stories of alien children, and strange sculptures that resemble spaceships. The history of the suppression of the Basque language during Franco’s dictatorship opens the door to the invisible.

A diary of trips and dreams, compiled with more than five thousand handmade illustrations.