While the Silver Crest slowly turns backwards to make its way out of the Royal William Yard the sound of its motor reminds me of another very watery environment. In the early evening sunshine this feels a bit like Venice in Plymouth. The small boat is full with film enthusiasts for this nights Riverboat Cinema’s Flow programme; once we’ve past Brunel Bridge the projection starts. First on is Richard Allman’s Tamarama (2014), his first ever animation of his drawings of traveling along the Tamar, taking the river cruise from the Barbican in Plymouth, taking notice of loads of details on the river’s banks. After this David Ward’s Filmwater (2008) concentrates on the characteristics of a river itself, in this case the Orinoco. In 1995 he travelled for one month upstream towards the source of the river. As he explains in his introduction he’s attracted to the fact that rivers differ strongly in texture, depending on their composition. The short film just shows the think undulating waves of the Orinoco and thus forms a great counterpart for Allman’s observations. In a conversation with both artists after the projection it becomes clear how their respective rivers hold their ongoing fascination for them. After twenty years Ward’s experience in the Amazonas rainforest still is not completely digested.

David Ward explains while film programme consultant Lucy Reynolds listens;  Breda Beban’s Walk of the Three Chairs projected

The real river pulls our attention during a truly beautiful sunset and it is hard to return to the projected films. I only capture Breda Beban’s Walk of the Three Chairs (2003), which she filmed on a raft, floating between the two banks of the Danube in Belgrade, one side industrial, the other natural and full of trees. An impressive band accompanies her singing ‘Who Doesn’t Know How to Suffer Doesn’t Know How to Love’ while she performs The Walk of Three Chairs, a traditional Balkan pagan ritual. But the Tamar calls and Jayne Parker’s The Whirlpool (1997) cannot convince me back into the little cabin. We arrive at Calstock, for an evening of cider; hog roast and film projections at the riverside under a starry night before we head for the last train home. It is only half an hour back to Plymouth but collectively we have been in a completely other world.

All photos Edith Doove