‘Window Water Baby Moving’: Stan Brakhage films the birth of his child
American experimental filmmaker Stan Brakhage had an unfathomably deep understanding of the power of images. Through a completely original approach to cinematic frameworks, Brakhage conducted inimitable investigations of complex subjects that govern the human condition. While truly spectacular gems like Dog Star Man often dominate conversations surrounding Brakhage’s work, his filmography is brimming with fascinating projects.
The 1950s was a pivotal decade for Brakhage, who attended classes at the San Francisco Art Institute but ultimately dropped out and moved to New York City, where he interacted with some of the leading pioneers of the avant-garde tradition. Ranging from Maya Deren to Marie Menken, Brakhage learnt a lot about the craft, but he had to live under severe economic pressure, which depressed him and even made him contemplate suicide.
However, the film that turned it all around was a bold work called Window Water Baby Moving, documenting the birth of his first child. Featuring his then-wife Jane Wodening at her most vulnerable, Window Water Baby Moving is an incredibly powerful cinematic experience that not only captures something so personal but also projects images that are central to the history of our civilisation: of birth and creation.
Brakhage repeatedly stated that many of his films were made in collaboration with Wodening. He once said: “By Brakhage’ should be understood to mean ‘by way of Stan and Jane Brakhage,’ as it does in all my films since marriage. It is coming to mean: ‘By way of Stan and Jane and all the children Brakhage.'” While that applies to a lot of his work, it’s probably more true for Window Water Baby Moving than the vast majority of his output.
During an interview, Wodening recalled details about the process: “He [Brakhage] calls the hospital and gets the nurse who says she’ll be right there… Stan starts worrying. I continue roaring and panting. Stan stops filming he’s so upset. He gets nervous. He tells me to relax and pant. He needs to relax; I’m doing fine. I tell him how much I love him and ask him if he’s got my face while I’m roaring and this sets him off again and reassures him, and he clickety-clackety-buzzes while I roar and pant.”
Often cited as the cinematic work that made men feel more comfortable about delivery rooms, Window Water Baby Moving is a strangely beautiful meditation about the way in which we emerge from the comforting darkness of the womb. In addition to the network of timeless symbols that transform the film into a visceral experience, Window Water Baby Moving also manages to depict the violence that is required for each of us to be willed into existence.
Watch the film below.
