The film is the result of twelve years of work, and those years were necessary: it is made up of scenes that rarely occur, and they had to be waited for. It is a journey of discovery into a secluded world, marked by deep wounds and punctuated by moments of wonder. The protagonists are musicians who turn their art into a medicine, capable of curing that which neither science nor speech can cure. People who fuse together two identities. Today we speak of them, but mostly we are simplifying what, in reality, is a demanding and difficult discipline. And the journey to reach the dark part of the being that each of them finds themselves confronting is so arduous that it can itself become a source of torment. There is no established canon, much less a repertoire of sounds that is valid for every circumstance; each approach is an existential challenge. And this does not exclude the painful possibility of a defeat, given that the other, that fragment of humanity entrusted to their care, can remain from beginning to end an unknowable "you" that breaks all expectations, a stubborn mystery, unresponsive to every light. When, instead, the therapist finally finds a way to give expression to what is hidden inside, we witness something of exceptional value, which could be defined as an Epiphany.
The film is composed of seven of these extreme experiences. Its protagonists are the therapists, a baby born prematurely, kept in a light blue incubator, beautiful, sensitive young people on the autism spectrum, adults in the throes of mental disorder with things to teach us, an adolescent girl who sleeps, seemingly never to awaken, on a hospital bed as if imprisoned in a drop of amber…
In no case does a maudlin or paternalistic approach prevail. Each time, I found myself searching for the right perspective, drawing on tenderness as a guiding force, in the way Roberto Rossellini used the term: “Tenderness is a true moral stance for me. I will not accept any form of art that lacks tenderness.”