Canto della Terra

Born during the lockdown, the film narrates an exodus, through an exiled language like Armenian, and is composed of a single 38-second shot, repeated. The evolution of image and sound become the narration of a border crossing, of a border that the travelers will reach with difficulty and alone: ​​a threshold beyond which it is not known what they will be welcomed by: a metaphor of this historical moment, strewn with losses and of separations, and unknowns regarding the near future. Born during the lockdown, the film narrates an exodus, through an exiled language like Armenian, and is composed of a single 38-second shot, repeated. The evolution of image and sound become the narration of a border crossing, of a border that the travelers will reach with difficulty and alone: ​​a threshold beyond which it is not known what they will be welcomed by: a metaphor of this historical moment, strewn with losses and of separations, and unknowns regarding the near future. Born during the lockdown, the film narrates an exodus, through an exiled language like Armenian, and is composed of a single 38-second shot, repeated. The evolution of image and sound become the narration of a border crossing, of a border that the travelers will reach with difficulty and alone: ​​a threshold beyond which it is not known what they will be welcomed by: a metaphor of this historical moment, strewn with losses and of separations, and unknowns regarding the near future. Born during the lockdown, the film narrates an exodus, through an exiled language like Armenian, and is composed of a single 38-second shot, repeated. The evolution of image and sound become the narration of a border crossing, of a border that the travelers will reach with difficulty and alone: ​​a threshold beyond which it is not known what they will be welcomed by: a metaphor of this historical moment, strewn with losses and of separations, and unknowns regarding the near future.