Hofstatter’s FOUNTAIN

Fountain of Drowned Memories   by Erik Hofstatter


“That feckin’ material, what yer call it? Why can’t I remember?”

Insulation cladding?
A very powerful portrait of a man suffering from dementia in a care home, where he sees his sink as a fountain of drowned memories.
A fountain, though, usually flowers like attractive features of life, I thought…
Yet, I see this man suffers from his overgenerous urine outtake as if fed and stemmed upon pure asparagus diet. A throwaway line with a million meanings.IMG_3432
All close to home for me, with my own prostate, and I expect one day my own son will come to visit me to decry the fountain until we both do sink into it, one by one, over time? And THEN I remembered – Marcel Duchamp’s famous work of art of a pissoir was called FOUNTAIN, wasn’t it? And I smiled.
Dreadful death will come later following my final Avant Garde smile, after all, I thought.
A moving work, in more ways than one.
Dada, my son said.

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