A few precious words by Pessoa mark the starting point for cellist Anastasia Kobekina's long nocturnal reverie in the electric and colorful decor of the 19th arrondissement. 

A moment of introspection, pen in hand, in a futuristic café lit by neon lights, turns into a lively episode of creation: the cellist rewrites and reinterprets the famous score of Folia with angry strokes, establishing hidden correspondences between the notes, scrutinizing the slightest detail, letting herself be haunted by this ostinato, in an episode that resembles a trance. At the same time, the artist projects herself into a hallucinated exploration of the neighborhood, cello on his back. After having twirled, jumped and danced for a long time in a moment of near dementia which directly refers to the title Folia, Anastasia ultimately finds herself in a deserted car park to perform the work there one last time, thus marking the end of her nocturnal adventure. When the music ends, the artist gradually regains consciousness amid the sounds and lights of the city.