Reasons to live and listen, in no particular order...

- The waves breaking on Brighton's steeply banked, shingle beach during the early spring gales. 24th February 2007.

- The unfolding of Helena Goughs' 'with what remains' whilst travelling up and down the land on various trains. Intricately layered and marvelously paced compositions of texture and semi concealed drones. Summer/Autumn 2007.

- Parkinson/Saunders/Lely/Sparling playing Lucier and Maierhof at Cut and Splice, Huddersfield. 24th November 2007.

- Christina Kubischs' Electrical Walks - Huddersfield, in particular on the Free Town Bus, - utterly compelling electro-magnetic sound fields, especially when the bus braked at lights, - awesome bass drone! I got some strange looks from the rush hour punters in Huddersfields' packed bus station whilst walking through wearing the over-sized headphones... 23rd November 2007.

-Listening to and recording the long steel wire fences of Mid-Argyll, Scotland, in particular the array running alongside the road over the Mòine Mhòr at Bellanoch, near Crinan. Fucking unbelievable internal soundworlds, ranging from rain driven percussive textures to subtle aeolian beauty, taking in mid-air strikes from insect players, to inexplicable vocal-like cries trapped within the wires between rain and wind.
Like the inside of a giant grand piano activated by the elements. Awesome!
Wonderful birthday present, 14th August 2007.



-Toshiya Tsunodas' installation at Druim an Duin. Sine wave driven piezos resting on various surfaces provided by the entrance to a domestic, dry stone, prehistoric fortification in Mid-Argyll, Scotland. Rigorously simple yet utterly compelling. September 2007.





-Conifers between Creag Madaidh Beag and Garbh Shròn next to the track to Old Poltollach, near Kilmartin, Mid-Argyll.
On a west facing hillside, looking out towards Jura, Scarba and the Gulf of Corrievreckan, a stand of spindley, slim conifers (Spruce, Larch or Pine??), the unhealthy remnants of the once extensive forestry plantation of the area, some, wind blown over and resting on others, like giant bows on strings of living timber that swayed in the north-westerly wind. The creaking, groaning cries thus produced created one of the most eerily atmospheric soundfields I've had the pleasure to experience. July/August 2007.



-Cranc at the 2:13/No Spaghetti Edition Festival, Small Music Theatre, Athens. Possibly one of the best bands in the world playing at possibly one the best small music festivals in the world - fucking brilliant! 7th December 2007.

Lee Patterson, 27th December 2007.

When I made the first egg fry recording, it was after spending much time each morning listening to breakfast cooking and becoming fascinated with the sounds of eggs frying, I was curious as to how it would sound if I placed tie-clip mics on the rim of the pan in a binaural fashion, in effect placing my ears far closer to the source than was safe or practical.
Starting with warm (not hot) oil, I allowed the egg to cook, reaching a crescendo of activity, then cool, allowing the sounds to die away (hence the 15 minute duration). The experiment was successful, as what I heard astounded me. A very rich, multi-layered soundscape consisting of a variety of different sonic elements that developed as the egg cooked and then cooled. Various repetative sound events emerged and changed through time lending this recording a very musical feel.
I've since become intrigued as to how similar this 'soundscape in a pan' is to some quite disparate sources of sound, such as pond soundscapes (insects and plants), ice melting, Clay Music (Colley), etc. Indeed, the sounds are produced in a similar fashion, in essence, this is a music formed by liquid, bubbles, gas and modulating surfaces, not unlike certain techniques employed by many improvisers on wind, brass and reed instruments.

This experiment had little to do with 'documentary' field recording or phonography, for me, it was more akin to (auto)composition, framing fascinating sounds within temporal and procedural bounds. The fact that the sounds were sourced from an everyday act may act as a distraction for some, but for me, it reinforces my sense of wonder at how things are when one pays closer attention, deep listening if you will. To my ears, this is anything but mundane and most definately worthy of closer inspection and through headphones this was/is an utterly compelling, immersive listen.

For me, this recording easily transcends its origins, and is in no way comparable to the holiday snapshot as some phonography practice can often be. Given the huge and often bewildering amount of cultural product available to listen to, it is all the more important to be selective, whilst maybe at the same time re-evaluating how one listens to the sounds around us.

L.P.

Water, as a medium for the propagation of sonic vibration, has some very specific qualities, not least of these being that sound travels four and a half times faster through water than air.
In addition, the methods by which sound can be produced underwater differ to those in air, as the water itself can function as a sound source as well as medium for its' transferral.

Of the many sources of underwater sound that I have encountered (fish, various insects, etc.), perhaps the strangest and initially the most unexpected, has to be the aquatic herb, Hornwort (Ceratophyllum Demersum), commonly found in central and northern England.
This plant produces sound as gas bubbles escape through stomata or fissures on the surface of its' leaves and stems.
Dependent upon the amount and rate of escaping gas, a variety of sounds may be produced, ranging from rhythmic clicks to drones to siren like pulses of sound more akin to what one would expect to hear in an experimental sound or music studio.
Moreover the rate and frequency of the escaping gas bubbles, quite naturally, are affected by the level and intensity of sunlight reaching the plant and this in turn modulates the sound produced.
In some cases, Hornwort song can consist of slightly more elaborate sequences, featuring repeated phrases that uncannily sound like they should originate from circuitry rather than canal or pond.
On at least two occasions whilst I've been recording, these unusual responses have been triggered by handling or other disturbance of the plant, leading me to the suggestion that this species is able to respond rapidly to potential threat through a well developed vegetal sensitivity to it's immediate environment and is able to alter the rate at which it respires resulting in relatively complex sounds.

Other more common sound producing organisms include the various species of Water Boatmen, chiefly the Sigara and Corixa families as well as Notonecta and Micronecta.
There are many species within these families, each with their own distinctive calls and language, of which the Sigara Dorsalis species has been reasonably well documented previously.
The calls made by these insects tend to be cricket or grasshopper like, and indeed the sounds are produced in a similar fashion, by rubbing the bristles on their legs over their heads or other parts of their bodies.
In terms of sound production many of these species tend to be more active during late evening or at night, and in certain locations many individuals can be heard during nocturnal recording expeditions.

L.P.