Sembra un racconto senza punteggiatura ma è il ritratto di un luogo caro e perduto. È il luogo dell’ultimo saluto a mio padre e il custode delle sue ceneri.
Luogo che diventa spazio emotivo e racconta cose di dentro e di fuori, di pace e tumulto, di sogno e di veglia.
È anche memoria di un’abitudine, di una ripetizione sottile e leggera.
Dalla ripetizione, tuttavia, si trae la differenza.

It looks like a story without punctuation but it is a portrait of a dear lost place. It is the place of the last farewell to my father and the custodian of his ashes.
A place that becomes an emotional space and tells of things inside and outside, of peace and turmoil, of dreaming and waking.
It is also the memory of a habit, of subtle and light repetition.
From repetition, however, comes the difference.

Review by Andrei C. Șerban (Writer and Critic)

The “narrative” stakes of this project are non-existent, while the director is more concerned with that something transcending the rational part of the human being. We are not, therefore, in front of a conventional story, but of a state of mind, of a bittersweet monotony, of an emotion that we can assimilate with nostalgia or melancholy. In other words, the director tries to offer here a visual and acoustic equivalent of the Proustian prose that privileges involuntary memory as a specific means of human sensitivity, when in the present of any individual, inexplicably, some faults open towards the obsessive memories of each one. The main character, in this case, is the memory itself which, through that stream of consciousness, transcends the physical barriers to overlap the past and the present in the same moment into a unitary image. Structurally, everything flows like a poem where the eye of the observer sees beyond the “mundane” interface of everyday objects. Or, more precisely, it sees the concrete objects as portals to the defining images and sensations of their past – in this case, the image of an island that, in the twilight light, radiates fascination, and melancholy but also the thrill of a romantic painting.
Such aesthetic choices are compelling but certainly not intended for every type of viewer. In fact, this concept rather gives the specificity of an artwork we can admire in a museum or within a larger immersive performance / installation. However, it is admirable the courage and poetic sensibility that this sequence of images and sounds conveys, despite its apparent simplicity.
The music, both solemn and nostalgic, is in perfect balance with the image, being, at the same time, an essential element in this immersive experience, in this total immersion in the “streams of memory”.
Nowhere on Earth can I settle is a state of mind, a cine-poetic exercise in contemplating a mechanism of human memory, as much as it is a total plunge into the vagaries of the flow of memory in an attempt to bring out a haunting memory.
Rejecting the conventional structures of a short film, Antonella Susanna Olimpia Bersani offers us an immersive experience that we may have felt before in front of an artistic installation.