Cities And Memory

"Working with a field recording of an air show has been deeply gratifying. On an emotional level, it has allowed for something like sublimation or integration. Having attended the 1988 Flugtag air show in Germany (in which 70 people were killed and hundreds wounded), I still tend to experience visceral reactions to the sound of fighter jets or aerobatics. Creating something of my own out of this field recording has ended up being a form of emotional processing as well. "On a technical level, the original recording proved to be highly malleable source material, and it is the sole sound source I used in my track. As the sound of jets is effectively rhythmic noise (and thus full of frequencies), I decided to slow it down drastically, reverse and granulate a brief segment, and then pitch shift that result into additional notes to form a chord. I then pulsed various strains of that chord with looping envelopes and ran them through spatial and time-based effects that morph ever so slightly over the duration of the

"This work originates from a field recording captured in Madobag Village on the Mentawai Islands in Indonesia. In the recording, the sounds of children playing around an old well echo through the space. For me, this recording is not merely documentary material; it functions as a sonic memory that can transport me back to a particular moment and setting. It triggered my reflection on the gap between the fleeting serenity of travel and the pressures of daily life and became the starting point for the work’s narrative. "The piece unfolds around the tension between two acoustic worlds. The opening section extends the calm atmosphere of the island from the original soundscape, using soft drones and drifting textures to form a dreamlike space situated between the external environment and internal perception. It's not a literal dream but rather a sonic reimagining of how memories emerge and rearrange themselves during times of exhaustion or yearning. "The subsequent sonic rupture arising from the cold, piercing to

"This composition was created using exclusively a recording of a traditional Vietnamese funeral ceremony. Fragments were taken from the original track and subsequently manipulated.  "In particular, the resonances produced by the percussive instrument were extracted, thus creating long sound bands, onto which the distant dirge is grafted. The intent was to create an internal acoustic vision imagined from the deceased's perspective." Funeral soundscape in Vietnam reimagined by Nicola Fumo Frattegiani.

The Red Arrows display team flying over Southport at the annual air show in July 2024, with the sound of spectators in the background. Recorded by Stewart Hoyle.

Immerse yourself in the joyful ambiance of Madobag village, Mentawai Islands, where children's laughter and playful shouts fill the air. This soundscape captures the carefree moments of youngsters gathered around an ancient well, their giggles and splashing sounds blending with the serene atmosphere of the surrounding environment. Recorded in Indonesia by Farhan Boy.

My grandfather's funeral was according to village customs. Recorded in Vietnam by Nhat Vuong Nguyen Trinh.

"I first visited Portland in the early 2000’s, as part of a DIY west coast tour with a band from my, (at the time) home of Brighton UK. "When I saw the option to work with a piece of Portland audio for this project, something resonated, connecting me to the idea of distance between then and now in my own life, and that of my bandmates. That sense of how things move forward, inevitably, but that an aspect can also remain, that can be conjured up, and reconnected with, like a talisman or a map.  "Sonically, I was drawn to create a piece consisting of several distinct movements, utilising a broad range of sounds, and a narrative that draws in the listener. I welcomed in happenstance, and several aspects came about by what my former A’level art teacher would refer to as ‘a happy accident’, including some of the vocal work between myself and collaborator Nicky Rushton - these were nice surprises, and I kept them in the final piece. "Elsewhere, I used small sections of the original recording, sometimes rhythmica

I've always enjoyed Leo Villareal's "Multiverse" (2008) which is located between the East Building and the West Building of the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. The work, made of light-emitting diodes, surrounds you as you are transported via a moving walkway. In the recording, you can hear the sound of people chatting and laughing, (I swear I hear someone happily say "Jamiroquai!" towards the end), heels clacking as some choose to walk instead of using the walkway, and beginning at the eight-minute mark you can hear a child say "wow!" a few times. Their father is holding them in his arms and, as they get near, you can hear him sing the end of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". Recorded by Bill McKenna.

During the Spring Festival, the melodious tunes of traditional Chinese instruments can be heard in many places, serving as festive reminders that it is indeed the time of the Chinese New Year.  Recorded by David Ge.

I'm visiting Portland from the UK. The Memory Den is a large warehouse converted to a vintage shopping Mall in the industrial area of Portland, Oregon, close to the Willamette River. Trains hauling a hundred wagons pass along the tracks just meters away from the building.  Sounds from outside the building mix with the noises within it. This recording is from inside the Memory Den: a passing train sounds its horn while kids play the basketball shooting machine inside the Mall. They then change focus and play the piano a few meters away. A seamless transition.  New industrial train sounds mix with the tones of old vintage items, played now to pass the time on a cold November afternoon. Recorded by Paul Stephens-Wood.

"I used sections of Chinese instruments from the original recording to create the piece. I used samplers to make the drone sounds; stretched the original tracks to make the sound shorter or longer; added big delay, echo and reverb to create the ambience sound." Shanghai spring festival reimagined by Ziyun Lu.

"After selecting a field recording at random, I immediately researched the location… Upon looking at photographs of the location and watching a video of the installation in action….  "I wondered; “what if every one of the 142000 pulsing LEDs in Leo Villareal’s light sculpture ‘Multiverse’ were microphones?” "I then wondered; “what might a field recording sound like if we recorded via these imaginary moving microphones?” "I set about creating the track:  I chose three 1 minute sections of the original field recording to provide my source audio … one from the beginning/middle/end.  "I looped these three sections of the field recording  Each one processed by a different effect that uses a granular synthesis algorithm, creating individual distinct chaotic patterns:  "Chopping and rearranging little pieces of the audio, simulating the snippets of sound the imaginary microphones might hear as they twinkle and flow through the subterranean space… "Additional fx channels were used to add some subtle extra depth

"I chose this soundscape because I wanted to work with sonic elements far removed from what I’m used to hearing. That led me to explore sounds from Japan, and when I came across this recording, it struck me as something special because of its nostalgic quality. Like the person who captured it, I’ve also experienced “last evenings” in the places where I’ve lived. My own feeling isn’t always nostalgia, but rather a kind of emptiness. I wanted to explore that sense of abandonment through this beautiful soundscape of the Yamato River. "In this piece, I processed the alarm sound in several different ways to create drones that helped me evoke the nostalgia and tenderness present in the original recording. I also wanted to complement the river with my own recordings of bodies of water. In that sense, the work functions, for me, both as an emotional cleanse and as a study of water itself." Kashihara city soundscape reimagined by Sara Ramírez Márquez.

"Far deep inside the Amazon, after twelve hours on a canoe through green wilderness and mirrored skies, I arrived at a small indigenous Tikuna settlement nestled beside the river. There, children laughed as they bathed in the water’s bronze light, while their mothers washed clothes by the river, each rhythmic strike against the wood becoming part of the forest’s pulse — a gentle percussion older than language. "From these living sounds, Wëeña Rügaü — Children of the River — was born. A composition woven from field recordings captured in this hidden, timeless place where the world seems to hum with remoteness. The piece unfolded naturally: the recordings became a bed of sound upon which layers of ambient pads from the OP-1 synth floated, diffused through a mood pedal. A kalimba then drifted in and out of the current, its tones dissolving into textures of light and distance as they passed through the Microcosm pedal. "The piece moves like a dream — liquid, translucent, and eternal. It holds within it the memo

By the river’s side in the Amazon, Colombia, the soundscape blends the gentle rush of the water with the rhythmic motion of people washing clothes. Children play joyfully in the river, their laughter and splashes mingling with the natural flow, creating a lively, harmonious atmosphere. Recorded by Rafael Diogo.

"I made a number of live jams over a couple of weeks, each around an hour long, all manipulating a snippet of the recording, with some added synths; the final piece is an edit and amalgamation of two of these. A selection of others can be found at https://dtyb.bandcamp.com/album/warsaw. St. Martin's church, Warsaw reimagined by dtyb.

 "When I heard Miyu's recording of cicadas, I was brought back to humid late summers in Japan — where I lived for two years in the mid-aughts — particularly the time around the Obon festival, when, traditionally, the veil between the living and the dead is said to be at its thinnest.  "Cicadas, in a synesthetic way to me, are the sound of that veil shaking in a hot breeze, the static cling of the cosmic curtain, and there's a shiver to be savoured hearing them crackle and seethe as you climb the forested steps to the shrine that overlooks your neighborhood and pass through the red torii gate, half-hoping to be transported to some liminal, Twin Peaks by way of Haruki Murakami spirit lodge, but settling contentedly for a choco-banana from a festival vendor before the sweaty walk home." Cicadas in Niigata, Japan reimagined by Casey Broadwater.

"The interface of humans and water is celebrated in the recording and composition. I collected bell sounds from the recorded soundscape, and brought them to the forefront in a reverberant timed and tonal pattern, emphasized with percussive textures, while the original soundscape forms foundation and harmony throughout, ultimately zooming to power and reflection." It-Tlett Ibliet sounds from Malta reimagined by Heather Spence.

"This piece starts with the original recording, which consists of lively, beautiful species. However, as we move forward new, unconventional sounds are introduced. I have been obsessing over sounds, in its raw state, without any acoustic characteristics of a space imbibed in it. I have used a lot of surface recordings done with contact mics. All these are recordings of vibrating surface, which are then EQ'd later to create specific musical chords to introduce a sense of musicality.  "For me, this reimagined piece is basically a journey, where the sense of space gets lost gradually as we move our ear from the space to the resonating surface of the space." Farm life in Kerala reimagined by Prabuddha Mukhopadhyay.

Japanese people call the loud cicada sound “Tsukutsukubōshi,” because that’s what it sounds like they’re singing. Don’t you think so when you try saying it out loud quickly? This recording was made in Niigata, a region in Japan famous for its rice production. The area also has a thriving garment industry, with factories scattered among the rice fields. If you listen closely, you can hear distant sounds of cars and trains. After a gentle breeze passes, you may even hear the siren of an ambulance. Recorded by Miyu Hosoi.