The Sound Of Drowning, is a poem performed by singer, poet and activist Amyra León, and is accompanied by beautifully strung together shots and cinematography in Harlem, New York. It’s a unique style of visual poem that is also met with reenactment, as Amyra is describing her upbringing in a very powerful and musical way.
From the start we are transported to winter in Harlem, New York. Beautiful shots with light snow falling that transition perfectly with the beat of a somewhat melancholy, quiet but powerful music track. When we meet Amyra she’s seen in two different shots that the producers use — the one where she’s down in the streets and another where she’s on a roof above the city. I think the two different versions and shots the producers use it brilliant and creative and gives the audience a sense into who she is, and where she comes from. Since it’s such a short video with limited amount of time, the two different shots showing her character are necessary.
Most of the video is narrated by Amyra, in a poem, that is met with a young girl reenacting as she goes along. Cameras follow the young Amyra and take us to the tough childhood and lifestyle she endured. Where her parents were unreliable and unavailable. Shots like this one below, to highlight disorder and a chaotic childhood:
Another beautiful and clever technique the filmmakers used was water reflection, at 0:37 Amyra begins to tell us that she has “tried 13 times to belong in homes that weren’t mine,” and there’s one initial shot of red brick buildings, that is followed up by a great shot of the building in the reflection of water, using very limited and slow pan up.
The video goes on with Amyra continuing to describe her upbringing through her musical spoken word, and the filmmakers capture an incredible shot that is framed by an arch as seen below at 0:49 – 1:02
At 1:09 to 1:15, the filmmakers transition into the latter part of the poem, which strikes with power and is hard-hitting. To start it off, the filmmakers use a sort of matched action between young Amyra, and grown Amyra, with a spin or dance move. It’s almost as if it’s a wind up for what’s to come in the following second half of the video.
Followed up is a sequence of the poem that begins each sentence with Amyra saying “my kind of poetry ain’t literary,” and that becomes the theme and pulling force for the next minute. Each time she drops “my kind of”, the scenes transition on queue, between close up, zoom-in shots of Amyra, mixed in with the reenactment shots.
At 1:17, “My kind of adoption ain’t real”
At 1:24, “My kind of body ain’t beauty”
At 1:33, “My kind of joy ain’t worth seeking”
At 1:46, “My kind of life ain’t worth saving”
The tone changes with the filmmakers focusing on Amyra raising her hands up, with her eyes closed at 1:56 to 2:02. Matched action abound here as she is “becoming, becoming, becoming” something new and intuitive. This transitions to a shot of where she is now today, on the stage, as a performer, activist, singer and poet, as pictured below:
The filmmakers end the video on a perfect, panning shot accompanied by her “dancing in the moonlight, and learning the sound of drowning,” and in the backdrop, they make sure to include what appears to be a mural depicting minorities that I am assuming is in Harlem or somewhere in New York (if any knows what this art is, please comment and let me know! I googled but couldn’t find it). Her hand motion is also matching the hand positioning seen in the mural, which was a nice touch if intentional.
Overall, for the limited amount of time the video is, Amyra and the filmmakers worked together brilliantly to pack this visual poem with a powerful punch. Using focused and matched reenactment shots, beautiful colors of the city, architecture and visuals of Amyra herself, and impressive transition techniques that flowed perfectly with Amyra’s impactful words. An inspiring and strong piece.
— Joe Ciolino