Since childhood, Orfeo has imagined fantastic stories around an abandoned villa across from his home. A solitary and visionary pianist, one evening at the Polypus – the club where he regularly plays – he catches the gaze of Eura. A deep, absolute love is born between them, but she harbors a secret. Then she vanishes. One night, Orfeo sees her entering a small door on Via Saterna, right in front of the villa. He follows. Before crossing the threshold, he encounters the Green Man – an enigmatic figure who seems to know the mysteries of that passage. Through the door, Orfeo steps into a dreamlike afterlife, inhabited by beings such as the Melusine, the Forest Mage, and marching skeletons. Inside the villa, he meets the Jacket – a demonic guardian who takes possession of his body to relive lost memories through music. Then it reveals where Eura is: at the station, about to depart on a train resting upon his piano. Only a door on the music stand – set to open at noon – can bring her back. Orfeo arrives in time to say goodbye. Upon awakening, he finds her ring in his hand. He returns to the piano and plays for her, knowing she will live on in his memories, his dreams, and his music.

Orfeo was born from Poema a fumetti by Dino Buzzati, a work I immediately felt close to for its imagery and evocative power. It became an opportunity for me to merge the languages I’ve cultivated over time—ranging from artisanal animation to experimental cinema and optical techniques—into a symbolic and sensorial narrative. I wanted to conceive the film as a dreamlike space, where the viewer embarks on an oneiric journey. Instead of a traditional narrative structure, I chose a rhythm that follows the unstable logic of dreams. I shot on 16mm film, in studio, with hand-built sets and techniques based on optical illusions. For instance, in the final scene, to make Eura appear as a ghost, I placed a 45° angled glass in front of the camera, reflecting the actress into the scene. A handmade, in-camera effect. For the animations, I used stop motion, animating all the creatures with a 16mm Bolex camera. In one dance sequence, I employed found footage: vintage Super8 reels of my mother dancing, which I meticulously reconstructed in studio. Through editing, I blended the archival choreography with performances by a contemporary dance company and the lead actress, creating a seamless scene that unfolds as if in the same space. It is an intimate homage to my mother, who was a ballerina.