In a saturated blue garden in Tolima, so small it sometimes fails to appear on maps, mirrors and glimmering shards catch the light. Everything turns. A young man and an old man face one another within an almost synthetic landscape. Their movement never advances forward: it coils back onto itself.

Andrés Barón films time-images. In his work, cinema never unfolds linearly; it circles, diverges, folds back upon itself. Characters, objects, landscapes, sounds and voices are caught within an unstable temporal matter where past, present and imagination coexist. This is precisely what Gilles Deleuze described as the crystal-image (image-cristal): an image in which the actual and the virtual become indistinguishable, where one can no longer tell what belongs to memory, immediate perception or mental projection. Like a mineral crystal reflecting light from within, Barón’s films reflect time from their own inner depth.

El ruido metálico de la luna does not reconstruct a memory, but rather an…