Traces

"Focusing the lens is an act of memory: it is the effort to trace a contour, the effort to ignite – and hence to revitalise. Through the stuttering of a tearful camera, the director strives to renew, to the rhythm of blinking eyes, the memory of his father, clear in the details of a sweater or in the gesture of flipping through a book, but never in his full figure. Kundera, in a book whose title is nearly homonymous with the film (Slowness), wrote that «giving shape to a length of time is the requirement of beauty, but it is also that of memory». Paraphrasing another passage from the book: a man who, while walking, slows down is trying to remember. A man who accelerates is trying to forget. In the effort to slow down an image, this film seems to almost «recognise a sign of happiness»."

In northern Morocco, a massive fence looms over the landscape. Within it lies 12 square kilometers of Europe. The port of Melilla is one of the last remaining outposts of Spanish colonialism in Africa and a place where different cultures intersect. Distant voices tell the stories of the city. Caught between the colonial past and modern migration policies, they offer a glimpse into life at one of the most militarized borders in the world

A young Englishman walked into a church and, in an instant, decided to convert to Orthodoxy. A Ukrainian man grew up in a place where religion was strictly forbidden. A man from Crete followed the guidance of the saints. What draws people to Mount Athos, the holiest place for the Orthodox Church?

Revisiting lost images and moments. Edited from unused footage shot between 2023-25.

Compressed between the barriers of shots, there lies an alliterative rhythm. It rushes and shortens, it hides and reveals. Like a palm, it opens and closes. Like a poem, it waltzes in thousands of inaudible steps. Like a weaving, its calculated movement interlaces light with its absence. Like an orchestra, its heart sinks for a moment, then quakes again, subservient to a mighty man.

Dreams and memories interweave to uncover what’s hidden and forgotten. Wandering endlessly, trying to remember and understand.

Distance traveled, distant friends, hopes and dreams. Time spent waiting quietly. A sense of incoming change.

Waves crash uncovering portraits of two women. Connected by a fragile rhythm, they move through time, as nightfall slowly sets them apart. A faint memory.

Taking a moment to look back, longing. These images, the cutouts of life. A quiet absence comes in with the light. Only my inabilities and a glimpse of hope remain.