Sofía Hansen

The mourning for a father and the absences, intertwined with what remains. Letters, written by birds that used to visit the filmmaker when she was a child, now reveal secrets to her son, whom she watches grow up.

Unarchiving a territory. On the verge of disappearing due to industrial extractivism, we begin to glimpse what still subsists in the forest of Hornopirén, in the south of Chile. Not only do we observe it, but it also looks back at us.

On a morning like any other, Lisa recalls a memory.

Under Chile's military dictatorship in the 1980s, a collection of family letters sent from Pisagua prision and exile in Costa Rica, meet the daily filming of the views from my window in 2023.

From the benches along the Parque Forestal, the captured moving images are repeated in a loop. The superimposed words flood the landscape. Read a word, remember an image.