I WATCHED THE WHITE DOGS OF THE DAWN (triptych, part 2) addresses the struggles of Irish fishermen coping with European fishing quotas. Els Dietvorst speaks with the inhabitants of Kilmore Quay village, offering a rough sketch of the tensions between deeply personal, human stories and the broader political-economic context. The film highlights the complex interplay between local livelihoods, governmental regulations, and environmental changes that impact the fishing community.

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While Dietvorst navigates the boundary between landscape composition and narrative cinema in The Rabbit and the Teasel, in I WATCHED THE WHITE DOGS OF THE DAWN, she alludes to modes of visual abstraction and documentary traditions, creating a work that enriches both genres. The film moves toward a realist approach through a series of interviews with fishermen, but it begins with a sequence of striking images that unsettle the relationship between figure and ground. These images foreshadow the dislocation of fishermen and women from their livelihoods and familial heritage. Slowed-down underwater footage, accompanied by an eerie drone tone, suggests the perspective of sea creatures—our source of food and life itself.

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Later, a shot of a seagull tugging at a scrap of fish—often symbolising diminishing fish stocks—emphasises the texture and tone of the abstract ground of the pier, speckled with blood-red and green algae. This moment hints at a harmony beyond the demands of earning a living, suggesting that this life, despite its struggles, might still be worth choosing. Dietvorst further evokes the modernist land art tradition with the static image of a sea wall that cuts a vertical line through the centre of the frame, supported by sand and rocks on either side. Slowly, she visually investigates how human intervention has shaped the littoral landscape, examining how these patterns and grids create a sense of belonging or aesthetic pleasure.

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When we spy a lone figure navigating the arcing sandbank, we are unsure whether this is a performance or a daily routine, a re-enactment or a necessity. Are we watching to learn a lifestyle, escape our own, or both? Or to question both? Gradually, Dietvorst introduces studio-set interviews, with the subjects starkly lit against a blackened backdrop. The chosen palette of blues and greys echoes the seascape of their work. The stark staging of these interviews suggests that the subjects speak not only as themselves but also as symbols, representing broader themes. This notion of "beyond the self" is one of the most vital drives in Dietvorst’s work.

 

From: In Want of Fox, the work of Els Dietvorst by Cherry Smyth, 2019.​​