Tension builds before one of the world’s most unforgiving 9b routes: Erebor. Meaning flows through the moment, heavy with what’s to come. Long, almost eternal breaths are woven together with fragments of thought and memory. Before the climber’s eyes: a complex path of curved and diagonal sequences. Dynamic moves. Tiny footholds. A crossword already solved—and yet, still unsolvable.

Then comes the breath-hold, the rising rhythm. The inner journey leads the outer one. The past resurfaces in the present—not as a distraction, but as a guide. Every memory informs the muscles, directing them toward the most rational choice. Ascend or fall. The body begins to compose, surrendering its autonomy. Notes on a score.

And finally—ecstasy. The emotional release. The peak of a symphonic pursuit. Intellect and talent, body and consciousness converge, allowing for an embrace between the tangible and the intangible. At its summit, a new route can mean many things. The triumph of an athlete. The evolution of a human being. Often, it means both.

We tell this story through the hypnotic movement of Giovanni Placci—a 23-year-old who’s already fused his fingertips with Erebor—and through Alberto Cantú’s cinematic vision. In Placci’s ascent, and in his brilliant yet obsessive memorization of the route, Cantu captures a perfect fusion of athletic act and artistic performance.

‘Erebor,’ which we are honored to premiere exclusively, is enriched by the cello of Matteo Vercelloni. This noble instrument echoes and elevates Placci’s feat, giving voice to the dreamlike power of a 9b—its impact on thought, perception, and awareness. The same impact we reflect on through the voices of the film’s key protagonists.

Climbing | Art – Giovanni Placci

“I started climbing almost by chance. It became a true passion because I always came away with something. After every training session, I’d find myself thinking about the emotions, the moments I had lived… Climbing slowly became part of me.”

“In my life, it’s a multidimensional discipline: competitions, outdoor rock, travels, different styles… There’s always something new to discover, to refine. I love the fact that you never go home completely satisfied.”

“Climbing a route on real rock is hard to explain in words. Erebor is just a piece of stone—but we spent a month together, and I poured everything into it.”

“I came to know it perfectly. I thought about it every single second.”

“My body managed to understand it deeply, really deeply.”

“Often, the body knows more than the mind.”

“A hand tilted 30 degrees.”

“Shifting a pinky finger.”

“It changes everything.”

“This is the beauty of the process.”

“It’s in the search for those tiny details that you become better.”

“That’s why, in the end, climbing is more an art form than a sport.”

“You’re fully immersed. You let the body guide you—you move in a flow. It’s like painting, only you’re doing it on rock.”

“The gestures, the hands, the sequence… You study and visualize the route: you memorize it. You choreograph every move. Then, in the act itself, you follow a rhythm. It feels like dancing.”

“Sport climbing is a storm of emotions. Outdoor climbing is more intimate, personal, artistic. Each route is different—it has its own style, its own movement, its own holds… Sending one, after weeks of attempts, is pure vibration. It overwhelms you.”

“It’s a deep experience, especially when you’re surrounded by nature. This discipline teaches you to live with daily failure—you’re destined to fall, every day. Then one day, you send a route or win a competition. And you learn that life is the same way. It’s tough—but it shapes you.”

Art | Climbing – Alberto Cantú

“I’ve always felt a natural connection to climbing. As a kid, my father took me to the climbing gym—I’d climb trees, walk on my hands instead of my feet… I wasn’t into football like everyone else.”

“I entered the competition scene early. At the time, climbing wasn’t just about mountains and weekend fun—it meant training three or four times a week, getting ready for the next competition.”

“One element, in particular, fascinated me from the very beginning. I’ve always found it incredibly powerful, though it remains largely unrecognized: memory.”

“To look at a wall with your eyes alone, to absorb it, and then retrace every hold, every move… High-level climbers have truly unique abilities.”

“They repeat each sequence over and over. They remember dozens of moves, holds—even sensations.”

“They anticipate the falls. They’re not fully convinced by a sloper or a crimp…”

“They build a virtual world—one very few people ever get to see.”

“When you get to an 8c… that’s where everything happens.”

“It’s all in your mind. Internalized.”

“Like Erebor was, for Giovanni.”

“Twenty curves.”

“Every move.”

“It’s incredible mental training—50% of climbing is that.”

“I, too, visualize a lot. And with Giovanni, I asked him to ‘feel’ that rock.”

“To climb and relive a 9b route. With his eyes closed. His muscles launching into the same kind of tension…”

“His feet, his arms, his hands… It felt like a dance film. A choreography made of memory and physical isolation. Of neutral spaces. And a brush painting invisible lines in the air.”

“I see all of it as so gestural, so visual. So musical. That’s why we chose to pair it with the voice of a cello. We doubled the movement with sound—giving resonance to the vibrations I felt inside. In ‘Erebor,’ music plays a fundamental role.”

“I’ve always had these artistic perceptions of climbing. For me, it was natural to see things that way—highlighting a hand on a hold, and the aesthetic value of it… Then I realized I had to tell that story. And little by little, I figured out how.”

“Turning a feeling into a film is complex. It’s like translating a language only you can hear and understand. For me, that means elevating the athletic gesture until you see its beauty. During the Olympics, for example, I don’t see sport—I see art.”

“I’ve practiced many sports myself, and many of the sensations I try to express, I’ve lived firsthand. Each one left something with me. When a discipline is mastered—whether it’s sailing or running—it transforms into art. That’s what drives me: the union of dance and climbing, capturing the internal and mental ascent of an athlete like Giovanni.”