L'Espace du son 2013

:: Annette Vande Gorne at the Acousmonium's master desk. L'Espace du son 2013 ::

From Thursday 21st November to Sunday the 24th I attended the 20th acousmatic festival, L'Espace du son. Founded by composer Annette Vande Gorne, this event was my last stop on the work and travel funded by the Australian Council's Artstart grant. Having spent the previous three weeks focussing on field recording (including a week intensive with Chris Watson), I was incredibly eager to switch focus from the art of recording, to expressing the sounds via acousmatic diffusion. These two passions are the primary skills that I utilise in my work. They follow on - one from the other - with the designated leader in a constant state of switch. 

As an english (only) speaking, unknown artist from (far-away) Australia, I was a little anxious as to how my presence would be received at such an event. Attendees, performers and organises of this occasion include the founders of the acousmonium themselves. The calibre of work within this community is the highest to be found on the international stage and on first night of performance, I must confess it was hard to shake the feeling that I was crashing a private party. I took comfort in the fact that a quick glance around the room revealed a number of solitary individuals sitting alone, tasting their red wine, reading their program and generally observing the community with the same wide eyed look as my own. 

Despite my lack of language skills, the striking of a large gong provided me with an internationally recognised sign that now was the time to enter the theatre. Artists who presented work at this years festival included John Young, Flo Menezes, Åke Parmerud and Yves Daoust. Over a course of four evenings, attendees were privy to the world of the acousmonium and the sonic delights that reside there. My social nerves were quickly allayed by the communities friendly nature and obvious interests in connecting with artists world wide to share the mutual passion - the acousmonium.

:: Francois Bayle and Tessa Elieff, 2013 ::

The festival itself was excellent. This community of the acousmonium was one of the most accomplished, intimate and welcoming that I have experienced to date and it is hard to write about this without feeling a little sad for the absence of their company. One particular individual is Jean-François Denis. As I sit in all my awkward social glory on the first day of the conference, I am joined by a long limbed fellow whose mischievous demeanour manages to overwhelm even my most coolest reception. We sit side by side - packed into the rows of wooden chairs - unable to escape from each others company and both seeming unwanting to do so.

Me: Do you compose?
Jean-François: I did but not for some years now
Me: Do you miss it?
Jean-François: No - well - I run a label you see - that focuses on acousmatic works so I am still very much, working with my passion
Me: Do you mind if I ask what the label is?
Jean-François: No, I do not mind........ (grin)

pause

Me: ..... Would you tell me what it is?
Jean-François: Yes - I would tell you....... (grin)

pause

Me: Well then - what is it's name?
Jean-François: The label is empreintes DIGITALes

Cue - Tessa (does not) chokes on her pen

Me: I can see why you do not miss composing!

My years of undergraduate studies in sound was spent trawling through compositions as to be discovered on this wonderfully curated and as-yet unknown label, empreintes DIGITALes. As a source of inspiration and a guidance point for developing my own work - I have often looked to the material of artists released on this label - wondering just who the higher beings were that collected such fantastical sounds..... Now I know - it is/was this intriguing and friendly character sitting next to me - enquiring after my own work. 

On return to Australia I am still digesting the experiences and piecing together my next developments. Whilst I would love to dive straight into the sounds I collected during my time away - for a new release in 2014 - I find myself holding back and pondering a longer term plan.... 

To be continued......

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body. 

Parting is such sweet sorrow....

:: Lindisfarne ::

It's always hard to leave a place that you have been getting to know via a two or three week intensive listening and recording experience. I leave Alnwick tomorrow morning and already I'm taunted by all the sounds that slipped through my net. Not - to - fear, I did manage to collect a few gems, one of the last being a recording from the local clock repairer's store. Some of these sounds will become Sonic Postcards in the days to follow and I look forward to sharing them on this blog and on Freesound. From here I travel to London for a couple of days and then to Belgium by train. I'm very excited at the thought of the train journey. I have never been to Belgium before, nor caught a train to another country (Australia is a continent remember!) so will be a little like a kid in a candy store once the experience begins. I'll keep my recording gear handy just incase.... In Brussels I will be attending the L 'Espace du son, the 20th international acousmatic festival and I must say, I (again) am pretty positively wired about the planned experience. Hopefully by attending the festival I will become enlightened to more techniques and skills in sonic diffusion using methods of the acousmonium - which - I hope to use with the sounds I have gathered under the guidance of Chris Watson and in my solo work during this trip.

:: Chris Watson and Dunstanburgh Castle ::

The focussed work I undertook with Chris was a privilege that not only taught me about recording technique and method, but  also inadvertently about himself. His generosity extended beyond knowledge, to an honest point of care and love in the work that he does - recording the sounds of our world. His humble stance on what he has done and is still doing, provided me with an affirmation in my own work and a comfort in the knowledge that my own passion for sound alone - is an invaluable reason to continue (against the odds of finance, travel, time, health etc. etc. etc.) Many thanks (again) to Chris for the sharing of his expertise. The passing on of this knowledge, from accomplished artist to emerging is indeed a noble gesture that can be hard to find.

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body. 

Winter Sounds of North East England

:: Recording site. North East Coastline, England ::

Recording England's wildlife in Winter is quite a challenge - particularly if wildlife is not your speciality. Unlike Australia (that seems to house a constant crowd of critters all year round), come Winter time in England a number of birds disappear. Along with the Winter closure of buildings whose acoustics I'd hoped to capture, these have been the two biggest hurdles that have arisen throughout this trip. On a positive note, what these unexpected 'exclusions' have given me is a shift of gaze from the obvious splendour of local historic castles and as-yet unheard (to me) birdcall - to the turning cogs in the local community that keep it ticking along year-in and year-out. I mentioned in an earlier post - the blessing-in-disguise of missing the tourism trade times and I think I am still only just beginning to appreciate the impact this will have on my work (with only four days to go....). 

Before I leave I hope to capture the sounds of the local trade. Its butchers it's bakers, its clock makers - those who have lived and worked in this part of the world their whole lives. After chatting to a number of local tradespeople I have found that they are often 3rd or 4th generation in a family business local to the area. It's quite touching to come to this gentle realisation - with each (sometimes a bit awkward) conversation that I have. These families are a part of the past, present and future of these towns. Their names may be found on a street name as they have become inexplicably interwoven into the history of their place of living. Quite a realisation to someone who has lived in four states in the past seven years (ish?) and countless houses... 

In contrast to the sound of industry I am also gathering the sounds of the beautifully wild and wooly nature that sustains the local communities. Crashing waves, churning waters and howling winds are all a part of the soundscape. Today I went recording near Craster, at the old Bathing House on the coastline. I had looked at images of the area but didn't have much of an idea about what to expect - except that the abundant nesting community of birds would not be present (Winter!). What I discovered was beautifully sculpted volcanic stones that have been carved over thousands of years - by the waves of the ocean. Their shapes looked mechanical, artificial and completely organic - all at once. Trying not to slip I managed to clamber on top of a raised ledge and hang my microphones down into carved pools and blow holes as the tide rose. I saw only one person today - an old man who smiled at me but would not speak as we passed each other. It was a beautiful day - with sounds so perfect that even this stranger would not unsettle it with his voice... 

Day 5. Rock pools and hail of Embleton Bay

:: Embleton Bay ::

Sat 1st Nov. The last day of work with Chris was spent heading along Embleton Bay with the idea being to arrive at Dunstanburgh Castle. Unfortunately we only made it to the foot of the cliff walls - as the castle's grounds begin. The wind, rain and hail had become constant enough as to push us to retreat. I actually revelled in the subtle attack of the elements and if the dark hadn't been approaching (so quickly in the UK!) then I would have happily continued with the hike. I gathered some astonishing sounds of the waves crashing on the shore using Chris's DPA 8011's and attempted to gather the more dynamic sounds from the rock pools but with less success. It seems that the Sound Devices 788T model has a fatal flaw in the the limiters are not available when recording at 96k. This ultimately meant I could not record sounds from the rock pools as their quiets are too quiet and their louds are pure distortion without a limiter. It's worth mentioning that this is the first - ever - downfall that I have found from this model.

:: Recording @ Embleton Bay ::

To record the general sounds I used my old trusty Rode NT4 (stereo). Again, I was disappointed in that there was bad distortion on one channel. What I assumed was wind noise (as you can see - I did not have with me adequate wind jamming gear....) was actually a noise flaw that disappeared once I powered the microphone from the SD's phantom power AND switched the 'ON' switch to 'OFF'. I've never had this problem before and I can say that I won't be making it again but what a frustrating way to learn these beginner errors....... Safe to say - I will be heading back to the Bay and will aim for windy and wild weather when I do so. Night is falling faster and faster so I will be trying to cram my recording sessions in when the light is still present. I'm already dreading the day of 'leaving'. There's so much to record.

The last couple of weeks I will be working on my own and capturing what I can of sounds from the area. It's a strange time to be in Alnwick, the first week of the castle and some surrounding tourist attractions closing down for Winter. In a sense - you could think that I've 'missed it', that I am too late, or, you could think that my timing is perfect, to capture the personal sound signature's specific to this area, devoid of the tourist crowds.

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body. 

Day 4. Good work habits for the field recordist

:: Home-made windshield ::

Friday 31st Oct. 

I enjoy recording sounds as an artist (no surprises there). By undertaking this work as purely a creative luxury and keeping my, 'day job', I allow myself the choice of when and where I record - to satisfy my own ego and intentions. The downfalls in working in such a manner includes the fact that if you have no one to please but yourself you may feel there is no need to set work practice to any uniform standard. As you will be the only individual working with the material - only you need to know facts, figures, dates, tech specs and you've got all that in your head anyway so no need to formally record it right...? 

Well I know this is not the case - I'm merely playing devils advocate to illustrate just how poor my own work methods can be in regards to recording crucial information and maintaining professional work standards. All of those bad habits are in the past

As      Of      Now

Chris: What do you record at? 

Me: 24/48

Chris: You don't record at 96?

Me: No - you can't hear the difference anyway

Chris: Maybe but why wouldn't you? You have enough disc space and when you consider just how fast technology is developing - the sound standard is only increasing. In future we may very well have 96k as our broadcast standard.

Me: .....

Chris: Do you indent at all?

Me: Oh.. ahh... I try to but I generally forget

Chris: You should always indent at the start of each recording. Say your name, the place, your equipment, the date and any other information you would like to add. Do you know 'Wave Agent'?

Me: ....... head shake

Chris: You should have a look at it. It embeds the required metadata into your files and it's free. You can put all your indent information in there and your sounds are ready to be archived. No information is lost. Have you timecoded your Sound Devices?

Me: Yep

Chris: Let's have a look. Furrowed brow, changing of settings

Me: Silently realise that it's still set to time-in-Australia not, time-in-UK. Cringe.

Chris: You must timecode for every place you visit.

Me: nodnodnod

- and so we continue like this for the rest of the morning. It was a bit of a wakeup call in regards to my lazy habits. When I was working as an AV tech I (like to think I) was thorough with the systems I implemented and installed for others, logic has it that I should at least do the same for myself. 

Other tips and tricks Chris enlightened me to include the making of his own windshields (see image above). I have seen this done before but not with speaker fabric (Tygan), for the exterior. This allows the sounds to pass through to the microphone with less frequency filtering. With a simple thread-through and loop of a rubber band you have basic suspension for your microphone and a lightweight shield that won't break the bank or leave you teary eyed if it gets damaged in rough terrain which, as a top paid professional - you mightn't want to use it on set but as a penny-pinching artist.... it's ideal.

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body.

Day 3. Sounds from the past cont'd - Brinkburn Priory and Holystone

:: Stunned Gold Crest at Brinkburn Priory ::

Thursday morning (30th) I was bitten by the recording bug - namely - the one that reminds you of just how fleeting your time is - in the area of the world you wish to record. I approach Chris in the morning and request we break our plans to spend the day in-studio - to hit the road and continue gathering sounds (along with lessons in history). Chris is out the door before I am.

"Great! Weather's good, let's go!"

I grab my pack and run to catch-up. No time to check I have everything - it's dark by 5 and daylight hours are burning. 

The first stop is at Brinkburn Priory. Luck is with us as we happen to be visiting on the last day before they close for Winter. Again - the weather is windy and a tad gloomy - perfect in that it keeps crowds of visitors away and creates a feeling of privacy and even intimacy between yourself and the environment. First recording is the wind amongst the Birch trees  - the most detailed yet. They quietly crack and whisper amongst themselves. En masse, they're louder than most to the point that I don't hear Chris when he calls for me to, 'come see!' The Priory's warden is standing at the bottom of the drive, holding a tiny bird in her hand. She's looking at it and it's looking straight back at her fearlessly - eye to eye. The bird was a, Gold Crest', the smallest bird in the UK and this little guy had flown into her reception window. She'd found him/her lying on the ground stunned - but alive. No wings were broken and after a few minutes - whereby he/she graced us with an impromptu photo shoot - he/she takes off into the trees. 

Chris points out the acoustics of the church - beautifully alive they enhance the qualities of sounds. I think of Noirlac - and ponder the question Chris poses, 'At such a time, when technology was so basic, how did they manage to design such buildings - that use highly sophisticated architecture to enhance the sounds through acoustics?' 

Good question..... No idea...... Wish I knew......

:: Trees at 'Lady's Well' ::

From Brinkburn we head North West - to Holystone and its, 'Lady's Well.' The journey from one to the other is filled with historical tales about the area - which like Lindefarne - has a lengthy and detailed past. From what I have read and what I have heard - there is a strong belief that the well was originally a pagan site and adopted by the Christian religion at a certain point in its history. On visiting the well there is an undeniable sense of 'communing with nature' that I don't associate with Christianity. The surrounding fir trees stand as pillars in a cathedral and silently command your reverence. While there are stone idols present, they were added in later centuries and consist of only two. The well as it originated - without these figures - would hold an as-sacred impression - one (even more) intrinsically connected to the nature as found there. 

I place a hydrophone pair into the well and an MS pair above ground at the head of the space, between two of the tree columns. Simultaneously they capture the world above and the world below the well's surface. Darkness falls quickly while we are there as does the volume of my voice. As I exit through the gate I am near whispering and find it hard to pull myself away. Who knows what occurs in such a space under the faceless guise of night.

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body.

Day 2. The wind and the tide of Lindisfarne.

:: Walking path for the Monks to come and go from the island - marked by tall poles ::

Lindisfarne is a pretty interesting community (an understatement!). It has a recorded history dating back to the 6th century that includes tales of Viking attacks and nothing less than the birth of Christianity. Personally - what I find so intriguing about its nature is the fact that at certain times of the day, when the tide rises, the island is cut-off from the rest of civilisation. To live on the island is to live by the tide and in a rhythm with the elements you have no control over. People have done-so for well over a thousand years and I am sure they will continue to do-so in the years to come. 

The day of my visit (Wed 30th Oct) was windy and overcast - well suited to imagining the past lives that have sustained such a setting. We walked along the coastline - around the island and found one particularly striking place at which to record. 

:: Recording at Lindisfarne ::

The howl of the wind was the most voice-like I have ever heard. The halyards of the nearby boats banged against their masts - sounds ricocheted off the wall to my left. Chris's ears were noticeably quick at picking the spots where sounds were sweetest. Sometimes he would silently point and I would know where to move to listen. At times the wind would be too strong and we would stand to block its full gale, allowing the microphones a chance to absorb the sounds before wind distortion. 

In the late afternoon we headed to a hide that we had scouted earlier in the day. It was close-by, on the coastline and one that Chris had not recorded at before. While it was still light we positioned our microphones and ran the cable back to the hide. By nightfall - as the tide was moving in, so too was the bird wildlife and we began the recording. Over at least an hour, I listened as the sea crept closer and the bird's chatters grew louder. It is not a process you can rush - like the people of Lindisfarne -  we were also living by the tide - at the beck and call of it's own internal clock - a spectator to it as it passed us by. In the distance I could hear the trains passing through each half hour as per their timetable, adding to the pulse of the environment. As the darkness fell so too did the general humm of daily noise. The nocturnal cycle of sounds rose together as an unseen orchestra, hiding in the dark beyond the hide. We sat in a small circle of dim light - only able to listen and imagine what this world entails.

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body.

Day 1. Open your ears, begin again: Recording under the expertise of Chris Watson

After over a year of planning I have finally begun the recording intensive in North East England under instruction from field recordist Chris Watson. My day of travel from London to the coastline was quite an ordeal. Nature decided to make it interesting by throwing a savage storm across my path. Sitting on a unmoving train for over 8 hours with a handful of strangers - while mild panic ensued and the discontent amassed - provided me with a somewhat surreal experience existing somewhere between 'Breakfast Club' and 'World War Z'. At midday, I did a run for supplies, leaving the quiet safety of our cabin to head into the growing mass of desperate bodies trying to leave the city.

I slipped through their numbers to quickly grab what I needed and headed back to the 'Safe zone'. On return I continued conversation with other strangers. Under the pressure of time they unfolded and told me of their relationships with family, friends, partners - more than once I heard the phrase, 'But I can't really talk about it with them.' I'd ask them why they could talk about it with me and generally, they would shrug. I became a confessional for the troubled individuals whose worrying thoughts had risen to the surface in this time of relentless waiting.

Very surreal...

Tuesday morning (29th) the work begins. I arrive at the Watson residence to find that the unconditional infatuation from their border collie (Jessie) has not waned overnight. While I know I'm not the only one (her attention is lavished on any lucky soul that walks through the front door), it does make me feel somewhat special and warrants interrupting my morning cup of tea discussion with Chris for a quick return of affection. We spend the morning pondering over maps of the areas Chris would like to visit for recordings. Each point on the map brings with it a tale of history - of its past and present inhabitants - of clans and cultures - of beasts and birds all who are connected to this physical origin. By the time the car is packed and we begin our way I am aware that tutoring has well begun.

Today we visit one of Chris's 'favourite places to record'. Heading North West we arrive at a small resting place within Kielder Forest. Visually, it is notably modest but the collections of sounds to be sourced here are diverse and like candy for the ear. An active stream borders the edge of the area, which is filled with both native and introduced trees, (pine and broad leaves, respectively). The wind has many different voices - each tuned by the leaves and trunks it wraps itself around. The coniferous trees - with their thin needled leaves create a constant steady hiss - not unlike white noise. The native Oak and Birch trees crackle in the force of the wind, their broader leaves clapping together like hands to near breaking point. 

I drop the two different hydrophones I have with me into the stream at various points. First I try deeper waters - where the current is strong moving but not so rough. The lower frequencies are more present and the general richness of the audio is a pleasure in itself. In comparison - the shallow stream appears to also shallow the frequencies of the sounds. Their lows disappear and the mid/highs become rougher and less enjoyable. Chris talks to me as I am monitoring and I jump at the direct sound of his voice. He reminds me that sounds travels faster in water than air. What I am hearing is his voice through the stream and it's immediacy is so noticeable that I feel I am hearing his voice microsecond's before his mouth forms the words.

:: Hydrophone recording. Kielder Forest ::

We pack up and leave just before dark. We must head to a nearby clearing and position our microphones for the night - running 100m cable back to the vehicle in wait for the nocturnal nightlife whose sounds we hope to capture. Time is of the essence. The setup (once positioned) must be left for at least a couple of hours before we begin recording, so as to allow the environment to settle again after our disruption. So little time, so much life and obsession to record it....

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body.

KunstRadio Commission: Booroomba Rocks experience

:: Booroomba Rocks, Feb 2013 ::

Last weekend was spent heading to Booroomba Rocks to complete the field recording for the final piece in the KunstRadio commissions. The day ended up being a surreal experience to say the least - with an uncanny amount of participation from Lady Luck at points where it really should have all turned pear-shaped.... As Luck would have it, there was not a soul to be seen at the lookout. I discovered this was not only because of the approaching storm but also due to a festival. Locals and tourists alike headed to Canberra city for the annual Multicultural festival leaving the nature-loving curious to experience their bush surroundings in an eerie stillness, disturbed only by their own trudging of footsteps. 

The storm was a concern. I was nearly hit by lightening once - the world froze in a white light, there was an almighty crack/black and then the world started up again much the same except my hair was smoking/smelt strange and adrenalin was making my legs shake as I ran down the hill. While I was determined to record what I could of the storm, I knew it was unwise to be standing on top of a mountain next to a metal rod while it passed. Distant thunder started while Len and I packed our bags for the walk at the base of the mountain. We made the decision to continue the climb.

           

I had forgotten the way the bush goes quiet before a storm. The birds stop calling and sometimes - even the crickets cease... It felt ominous - like a preparation of what was to come - a 'battening down of the hatches' for the impending blows. I can't remember it ever being so quiet and here I was, expecting to record sounds. We reached the top, I began scouting for a slightly sheltered space, time became shorter and I realised that there was only a matter of minutes before nature's show would begin. Setup became a bit frantic with the swelling quiet consuming the space of time. As luck would have it, I managed to gather the beginning of the storm as it passed us by - barely clipping us with it's edges - leaving us safe from the lightening and as an awestruck audience on eye level with the clouds as we watched the elements play their part around us. We weren't completely protected - the rain still came and I stopped recording when it turned to hail. The microphones got questionably soaked (I will try them out to make sure they are OK) - but we were extremely lucky. My legs still shook as we headed back down the hill.

Thankyou to Lennart Katzwinkel for his beautiful photos and general calming influence on the day (and every other day).

This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australian Council for the Arts, its arts funding and advisory body.

Equipment used in these recordings included microphones purchased through the support of the Australian Council. For more details please see HERE.

ArtStart 2013

'Chris Watson Masterclass @ The Wired Lab, 2009: Image by Somaya Langley 

I am happy to say that in 2013 I will be one of the ArtStart recipients, as granted by the Australia Council for the Arts. I can't wait to get started on my plans which will involve heading to France and the UK around October for a number of intensive work developments.

The most exciting development to date - is the opportunity to work under the guidance and expertise of field recordist, Chris Watson. I was fortunate enough to meet Chris at a masterclass workshop at The Wired Lab, in rural South/West NSW, 2009. While I was impressed by his craftsmanship, I think it was his completely open dedication and love of his practice and conveyed respect and appreciation of sound that really knocked me over. While I was (and still consider myself) an amateur in the art of field recordings, Chris Watson was as approachable, humble and as generous with his time as if I was a fellow world-renowned  practitioner. The plan for the travel project is still developing but I hope to gather sounds under his teachings and then take them on to another institute for further developments - will see how I go and keep you posted.

Many thanks to the council for this opportunity. I hope to make the most of such an honor.