Hadamo

Isolated in the hills of eastern Bosnia, two old women survive in complete solitude. The care they have for each other is not made of words, but of daily gestures and eloquent silences. In fact, their silent dialogue welcomes the voices of Nature, which the women listen to and respect religiously. The camera becomes a vehicle for transmitting an intangible cultural heritage, made up of songs and lullabies, of rituals to tame adverse weather, the hail and storms that threaten the poor harvest. A natural symbiosis so intimate as to be congenital, that takes on the twisted form of a face marked by thousands of wrinkles, of feet that beat and stamp with the rhythm of the passage of time, like ancient tools or utensils. The pictorial gaze of the director captures for posterity the dazzling images of light or cluttered with darkness of a memory that, like the day, moves imperturbably towards evening.