Finding poetry below the surface

Responding to Fountain by Alexandrina Hemsley

Still from the film Fountain

Fountain, 2022 (Film still)

A ‘fountain’ can be an ornamental feature in a pool, lake or body of water. It can also describe a motion of water, or the source from which something comes. Directed and choreographed by Alexandrina Hemsley, Fountain begins with the word's first definition, but instead of trails of water, we are introduced to trails of light, stretched out and falling so quickly that the viewer seems to be rushing downwards through a galaxy. Earthy ethereal music plays as the light trails into bioluminescent liquid, creating ripples in what appears to be a thick viscous liquid. The palette of light on the water is a pastel sunset, hues of light orange, lavender and pink shift in waves, and as we dip beneath the surface we are introduced to a trio of dancers swathed in matching hues. Fabric and long hair trails from their bodies as they twirl, falling and rippling motions accentuated by their long sweeping arm gestures.

The dance film is split into different sections, each overlaid with its own visual and corresponding poetic text. The first of these sections is a blurred shot that focuses to reveal a pair of hands with blue nails and a dark navy blue sleeve, the embroidered cuff reading, “Heart of the Matter.” Here, a pulsating drum-like rock beat takes over the screen as the dancers’ movements become thrashing and punk-like, a torrent of water swirling in a vortex behind them. Frames of knotted fabric being pulled taught follow, and we’re caught in the juxtaposition between the flowing water and the tightness of the material. The voice transcends into harmonious yelling and it seems that the heart of the matter is a knotted type of cacophony, constricting and yet flowing, both movements that comprise what is contained within a heartbeat.The trio of droplet dancers are cast in slow motion, gently flowing over the fast paced music.

The poetry of Fountain speaks affirming life-bearing messages, synonymous with what water physically and symbolically offers us: “we are shaping water/underwater and surfacing our soil/we dance our choices - a seed plunges into depths/i don’t want to turn my grief into monster/underwater and surfacing”. 

Fountain presents us with mantra-like lines that contain subverted earth and water images, soil beneath the surface, a seed plunged into depths. The film becomes a gentle force of will that centres ways of healing trauma, maintaining autonomy over even the most drowned of emotions.

‘Relational Oceans’ appears as our next section, painted across the fingertips of sea-blue acrylics. Wind chimes denote a period of calm, with the three dancers forming a diagonal line from the camera, their faces bathed in a golden light coming from beyond the frame. The trio maintain a calm expression here, one of gratitude almost as meditative poetic prompts appear on-screen moments later: ‘HOW ARE YOU FEELING NOW?/WHAT KIND OF BRIDGE?’

The music shifts into chimes and celestes and the dancers’ movements capture the sprinkling texture of the music with elegant shakes of their fingers. There is a montage of muffled rain and yellow backdrops where they each engage with the water in a way that feels like sinking. 

A tattoo marks the next segment: ‘AS DAUGHTER WAS I MEANT TO FOLLOW YOU’, here the breaking of expectations are embodied through shaking and juddering movements, communicating a disruption of a current. Reverse frames show a dancer’s face being immersed in water. As the falling droplets ascend into their hands, time is reversing. A comfortable soundtrack of muffled raindrop patters brings a sense of calm. The frames shift into the film’s climax, a mass statue resembling the ornamentation that would usually adorn a fountain, crumbling and breaking beneath the water it is meant to hold. In quickly cut frames, the flowing movement of the dancers contrasts with the crumbling digital stone. A kind of freedom is highlighted, one that is not built upon the pillars and infrastructure that was meant to hold water, but a freeing of water itself.

Theophina Gabriel

Theophina is a critic who believes in criticism is a lost love language. He loves to review Black dancers, filmmakers, and poets trying to capture the subversive nuance, romance, and collective power of Black trans and queer people. When not writing reviews Theophina is usually editing them for onyx, a magazine for Black creatives, alongside his wonderful team of editors.

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