Through the commission of new artworks, and a parallel series of long-form interviews, this project explores the interests and methodologies of contemporary artists working in and with field recordings. By discussing with Rachel Shearer, Clinton Watkins, Reuben Derrick and Edwina Steves the origins and conceptual foundations of their practices, it was my hope that a multifaceted picture could emerge in which their interests and perspectives, as well as field recording as a whole, might be evaluated.

While many early examples of field recording were the results of extractive ethnographic and biological documentation and collection, those most artistically engaging stem from more humble encounters with the sounds local to a particular space and time. At its most potent, the value of this practice can be located in its inviting immersive and interactive investigation of the world’s multifaceted soundscapes. With this in mind, the intent here is not to suggest that any particular manner or motivation for working artistically or musically with recorded soundscapes is better than any other. Rather, my hope is that the variety of the work considered might serve to inspire others to, if not to pick up a recording device themselves, perhaps listen a little more intently to the soundscape surrounding them.

In considering field recording as a process, we find attention extending in two directions simultaneously: outward toward the sounds of the world, and inward toward interpretation and evaluation. The engagement offered to those who are prepared to listen with open ears is doubly situated, first at the level of physical presence, and then, subsequently, at the level of attention, concept, thought and reflection. In the act of recording, one's attention is directed at the world to which they listen, and at the same moment towards the sounds of the immediate (or distant) past and how that which is already recorded — held in digital or actual memory — may compliment or contextualise those occurring in the present.

Time passes once. There are no second takes, only additional recordings, however as one listens intently to a present moment they may be simultaneously occupied by conceptual and aesthetic criteria which extend beyond the now. In both directions we can anticipate an openness to the unexpected which may extend to an acceptance that if an 'error' occurs it should be retained, respected. In the field the recordist is a collaborator of sorts. As they attend to sounds present, considering that which they hear as well as all that comprises its context, the soundscape itself responds to the recordist. Movements and decisions are informed by the soundscape, and each moment builds toward the completion of sonic snapshot in which notions of sonic combination — the knowledge of how that which has already been recorded relates to each passing moment —also take part.

Upon entering the studio the sounds of the world become malleable, a material to be moulded to the ends of the artist. In the studio one is afforded a degree of control precluded in the act of recording, during which the manner a recording is created is dictated by time’s passage and elements often beyond the recordist’s influence. Once a recording has been made, an artist can work at their leisure. Unlike sounds in the world, which may be a momentary, fleeting, rare, recordings can be kept for years during which their initial source may be entirely forgotten. The degree of editing and manipulation exists on a spectrum extending from the subtle to the transformational. In some cases a commitment to a recorded moment may prohibit editing entirely. These artistic processes compliment those at play in the act of recording which is itself creative, and not necessarily concerned with accurate accounts of places and times. The placement and calibration of microphones, the movement of the recordist, the decision of when to start and end a session all play a part in a process wherein quality and potential is limited only by the imagination, interest and curiosity of those who enact it.

What is substantial in the most compelling examples of field recording is how artists determine what of the soundscape is significant to them, and in this way relates to concepts which go beyond that which serves a work as material. In the projects collected here we find the artists considering themes of musical composition, human perspective, legacies of colonialism, place, and energy exchange, and while these considerations take place against a recognizable backdrop of the study and artistic recontextualisation of the sounds of a particular place and time, their remit extends far beyond a physical location.  

Though they are united in their use of recorded sounds, the artists involved in this project are motivated by distinct and individual interests and curiosities, and carry out their projects in ways which further serve this differentiation. Employing methods such as collage, involving collaboration, sonification, and audio-visual recording, with or without prior planning, the works here speak to and from a place where the variety of possible sonic combinations are essentially limitless. The purpose here was to celebrate variety and I have endeavoured to avoid a prescriptive tone in describing this project. If a through-line or didactic theme has been assumed, let it be that environmental sound recording has been presented as a fertile and meaningful means of creative exchange with the surrounding environment, and that the situation of such exchanges is best approached with an openness for the unexpected and a respectful curiosity for that which surrounds us.

– Sam Longmore

SONIC.LAND