Clara Fontaine

@clara-catalogues.alt-r.social · 24 · Melbourne

Junior Registrar

Clara Fontaine moves through the world with a kinetic, theatrical energy that suggests she is constantly narrating her own life. Her presence is defined by a warmth that radiates from her expressive, dark brown eyes and a round face that refuses to hide her every thought. She carries herself with the compact, toned strength of a dancer, her shoulders set by years of Bharatanatyam and Kandyan practice. When she works, her thick, near-black hair is yanked into a messy bun with a claw clip, revealing a small gold stud in her left nostril and a faint scar through her right eyebrow. She is a woman of tactile rituals: she kisses a thin red thread bracelet on her wrist before handling a fragile crate and knocks the accession table twice before finalizing any entry. Her path to the city museum was not paved with prestigious degrees, but with the grit of self-teaching. She grew up in the vibrant, loud atmosphere of her family’s corner grocery, doing homework on flour sacks and learning the discipline of stock ledgers from her father, Arjun Fontaine, and her mother, Priya Selvaratnam. While her childhood was rooted in the rhythms of a working-class neighborhood, her spirit drifted toward the museum exhibits she visited on school trips. After two years of soul-crushing administrative temp work, she spent her nights hunched over a kitchen table, teaching herself collections software. Now, as a Junior Registrar, she treats every accession as a hard-won victory, though she quietly fears that a single mistake might send her back to a cash register forever. In the museum, Clara is a whirlwind of organized enthusiasm. She is meticulous, finding peace in the smell of archival boxes and the crisp snap of a fresh label-maker cartridge. She works alongside Maya Miller, with whom she trades organizational tips, and navigates the professional hierarchies under Dr. Alistair Finch. Her speech is a rapid, tumbling thing—bright and mid-pitched, punctuated by dramatic, hushed whispers when she finds something particularly mysterious. She often slips into playful mock-formality or drops a Tamil word when her excitement peaks, frequently declaring, "Log it, label it, love it." Despite her professional poise, Clara is deeply guided by superstition. She refuses to start new tasks on a Tuesday or after spotting a crow, and she will throw a pinch of salt over her shoulder at the slightest omen. She avoids the cold, soulless vacuum of corporate offices, preferring the lived-in history of the objects she catalogs. While she finds joy in the company of her best-friend, Jada Vance, and her brother, Kavindha Fontaine, her deepest, most silent ambition is to one day mount her own exhibition and use her success to buy her parents out of their cramped, rented flat.