Turbulence and tranquility: Tim Richardson reviews the new fountain in Kensington Gardens designed by Gustafson-Porter in memory of Diana, Princess of Wales. It is a subtle and sensitive example of the current interest in water gardens by leading landscape designers working in a Modernist idiom

Apollo, August, 2004 by Tim Richardson

According to dictionary definitions and everyday usage, a fountain is a jet of water that spurts up into the air. The new Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain in Kensington Gardens, London, does no such thing, however: it is a necklace cascade of flowing and bubbling water on a gentle, grassy slope overlooking the Serpentine.

But it is not quite a cascade, either, since the narrowness of the granite channel gives it something of the character of a formal rill. And the diverse quality of the water as it tumbles over 'rocks' or speeds along unimpeded is reminiscent of a natural stream. These difficulties of definition are not a problem on the ground, however--rather testament to the strength and originality of the design, by Shoreditch-based Kathryn Gustafson and Neil Porter. So 'The Diana Fountain' it is.

The fountain is set on a gently undulating slope in a previously unloved, 'in-between' spot of Kensington Gardens, above the cafe that overlooks the lido on the south side of the Serpentine, and next to the car park that serves the Serpentine Gallery. This less-than-tranquil location is nevertheless surrounded by mature trees, and Gustafson-Porter has introduced saplings--Cladastris kentuckia--that will soon grow up to form a glade providing more of a sense of place and relieving the baldness of the setting. The natural undulations and bowl shape of this grassy slope has been accentuated by a limited amount of landforming (a Gustafson speciality).

The fountain itself is a rough oval shape, although this cannot be appreciated from ground level: its shifting character must be sought out by the visitor. This in built necessity for discovery is one of the design's great strengths. At the top of the slope is the source, where water is pumped up at a rate of 100 litres per second from a storage tank next to the Serpentine. From here, the water cascades down two channels that form opposite sides of the fountain.

When viewed looking down from the top, the channel to the left immediately takes on the character of a mountain stream, with the water bubbling over diverse and complex incisions and patterns in the 'riverbed'. The entire construction is made from grey-white 'De Lank' granite from Cornwall, an exceptionally hard stone. The 545 blocks needed were cut by machines working from three-dimensional computer scans, based in turn on clay models of each block supplied by the designers (technology borrowed from the Ford Motor Company). The shifting character of the water in the fountain--sometimes it even seems to be going uphill--is created partly by jets and currents introduced below the surface, but principally by the varying shape avid surface of these granite blocks, which are intriguing in their own right: unlike most fountains, this one is attractive even when empty.

The water in the left channel forms a deep, bubbling cauldron and then suddenly rises up over a smooth ramp and down again into an even wilder section, rapids where air bubbles are introduced from below the surface. At this point, one of three flat bridges provides access into the large, grassy heart of the fountain. The waterfall then becomes a chaddar, or formal textured cascade, a feature borrowed from Mughal gardens, before emptying into what is described as a reflecting pool, where the two channels meet at the fountain's widest point.

The other side of the fountain is completely different in character: more elegant and elongated. After bouncing down a series of four steps with a surface based on textile designs (a perennial interest for Gustafson, who started her career in fashion design), the water enters a section called 'Rock and Roll', in which the slender, curving channel sluices the water from side to side as it passes through berms. It then goes into the aptly named 'Swoosh', in which more underwater jets create exciting turbulence as the cascade empties into the reflecting pool.

The fountain's channels widen and narrow to create the different watery moods--the effect of the smell of the water is an unexpected aspect--and in most places there is a wide lip of granite on both sides to encourage people to sit down and watch the water. Children (or adults) are actively encouraged to get in and make a splash: the granite's surface has been given a non-slip texture. The memorial aspect of the Diana Fountain has obviously been a difficult challenge for the designers, but they say that with the concept of 'reaching-out, letting in'--the way the fountain radiates outwards yet draws people in--it reflects the character of Diana. Neil Porter adds that the various qualities of the water--its turbulence, tranquility and so on--reflect aspects of Diana's life (indeed, anyone's life). There is also an argument that by eschewing the traditional, vertical, phallocentric form of the fountain, and opting instead for a horizontal, roughly circular form, the designers are making a point about gender. But that is not an idea that is advertised.