La Cumbre

A day in the life of two teenagers as they spend their last time together discovering their hometown.

The 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 evidence the presence of the person filming, revealing their movement and their center; they are the record of a hesitation seeking balance, testimony to the measurement of time. In that sustained gaze that pursues the precision of a gesture, meanings and bewilderment suddenly unfold. Filming, then, is the construction of a logic permeated by speculation, which in turn fertilizes it.

The voice we hear comes from far off-screen, thousands of kilometres away from the vistas of Toronto unfolding before us. These are countless voicemails from Colombia left by the director’s loving grandmother.