It's a tall fountain too, which is good because it actually fills the space for once.
Fons Americanus by Kara Walker is a monument to the colonial slave trade, a memorial to the unremembered, dressed up to look like an imperialist fountain. Look closer and the sea captain on the pedestal is of African descent, sharks swim with a snorkeller in the ornamental pool and a noose hangs from the lynching tree. Look higher and the water is gushing from the breasts of a voluptuous goddess and erupting from a slit in her neck. Do Not Touch The Water, warns the Tate's Health and Safety noticeboard, before adding that the floor may be wet.
The full title of the work is painted on a side wall, in suitably florid style, and very full it is too. 'Behold! The Sworling Drama of the Merciless Seas, Routes and Rivers upon which our dark fortunes were traded' is but a small extract. Further up the Turbine Hall is a lonely white scallop shell inside which the usual Venus has made way for a Negro boy drowning in his own tears. Precisely what everything means is never stated, but half the intrigue for visitors is trying to decipher each of the sculpted components.
London's cosy place in the world owes much to barbaric practices on the high seas, so Kara's fountain is a timely nudge at our collective conscience. It's also "built from reusable or recyclable cork and metal" and covered with "a non-toxic acrylic and cement composite", which is the first time I've seen a major work of art quite so keen to claim environmentally friendly credentials. I'm putting it comfortably in the top half of the TurbineHallleaguetable, however uncomfortable it made me feel.
