Armand Rovira

Three celluloid letters sent from different parts of the globe to Paul Morrissey, director of Trash, Flesh and Heat, collaborator with Warhol and agent for the Velvet Underground.

A memory exercise, a crystalized moment in time that captures poetic and existential quotidian gestures. A journey into a world of estrangement in which nothing is what it seems, yet it gives way to the vision of a better future after the storm. A work that begins with a sequence of correspondences in the distance to gradually become an essay that reflects on the perception of time, confinement, the impact of man on nature and the very act of filmmaking.

Through a very peculiar manual, whose rules are detailed with precision in the first segment, four young men and women accept this exchange of brief film, which includes a classical melodrama in Venice, a journal through Peru’s provinces, a letter to a friend and 16mm excess footage.

Only she can hear it. It’s a sound frequency that’s inaudible to everyone else, but it’s causing Hiroko an intense headache. She’s suffering. A lot.