Field Recordings

“I made it around dusk as I wanted to get the call of the Baja California frogs that live on this stretch of the river… it’s a part of the river which hasn’t completely been trapped in concrete as the water table is too high, and as such, the concrete bottom was never able to stick here. It’s a peculiar, but in my opinion stunningly surreal part of LA.”

“Walking around Walthamstow Wetlands in late October, moments before the area was shut down due to a threat from an armed person.”

“I made this crappy phone recording late one evening, passing through Shadwell on my way home. I was admiring the quaint docklands architecture along Cable Street (and the clear skies – I think it was a full moon that night) when I approached a stationary London bus. The sound coming from it was so peaceful and unexpected. I inspected the bus; it was empty, and the driver had propped himself up against a small wall outside and was smoking a cigarette. My first thought was that he was playing some music, and I thought about approaching him to ask what it was, but got shy. Instead, I stood there for a few minutes, taking in the atmosphere and texture created by the mystery sound, punctuated by the occasional passing car or cyclist.

I later read that this is the sound London’s new electric buses make when they’re stationary. They’ve been especially designed that way as a safety feature, given that electric vehicles are nearly silent by default. I had never heard this sound before, but really like the thought of a future where it’s a regular feature in the city’s soundscape.”

“The sound of birds, constantly falling leaves mixed with very light rain, some forestry work in the background and the odd plane above.”

“A field recording of Melbourne city from a cyclist’s perspective. This is the combination of two recordings that were made simultaneously. One was made with a contact mic attached to the seat post of my bicycle just in front of the chain. This was to record the sound of the operation of the bicycle. The atmos was recorded with the inbuilt microphones of a Zoom H5 portable recorder covered by a windjammer. I mounted the portable recorder in the middle of my bike’s rear basket using two elastic straps so it could move freely through the air without touching the sides or bottom of the basket. This was to avoid recording a bang whenever I hit a bump in the road. Then I rode from the Arts Centre past Flinders Street Station and up Swanston Street. I passed a number of buskers, pedestrians and trams on my journey. I like how I captured the changing sonic landscape for a cyclist: as I’m riding the sound is a blurry wash punctuated by bike noise, and then the atmos drops into perspective when I stop.”

“We rented a small boat for the day to explore the island. We found several coves only accessible by sea. While anchored at one of these coves I noticed how wonderful the sound of the water hitting the boat was and had to capture it.”

“After all the day tourists have left and the evening starts to set in Haworth becomes very quiet and eerie. With the church and Brontë parsonage to one side and fields to the other the beautiful cemetery stands deserted. Just birds and livestock populate the area. This is my favourite time for a visit.”

“Cobh, February. A slimy slipway with uncertain footing. A microphone collects a rasping tone as the tape, holding it to a barnacle encrusted hand-rail, gives way. Secured, it reveals a metallic, reverberant, sonic world, brought forth by the percussive action of waves. The rail-end slips below the green, foam-topped water, and seeks to convey the holder to the depths.”