The People’s Weather Report is a global response to the enormity of climate change, from a number of very personal perspectives. In an installation created by eco designer Tanja Beer, using recycled materials and showcased during Going Nowhere, audiences are invited to experience a 24 hour sound work of original ‘weather reports’, collected from participants located around the world.
Wildness was originally slated for release on Sensory Projects in 2012 as a 10″ EP, but since the label has been on imposed hiatus this album has remained in limbo. It is now available as a high quality or mp3 download and stream at Bandcamp.
I’m delighted that this record has finally seen the light of day. It’s an enormous honour to appear on an album with Richard Adams; whose work with Hood and The Declining Winter I admire immensely.
Underground car parks are richly detailed sonic environments. These large reverberant spaces magnify, diminish and transform the various sounds existing with the space: rumbling of car engines, clattering shopping trollies, footsteps, electronic doors, ventilation systems, etc. Over a given duration too, this environment can be perceived as having a natural order about it – with unique voices, rhythms and sequences; much like that of a natural environment.
To the non-Antipodian visitors of this blog, an explanation: the Hills Hoist is an iconic feature of the Australian backyard, a rotary clothes line which is height adjustable. It has been manufactured in Adelaide, South Australia since 1945. It’s a striking presence in any backyard, and aside from being an invaluable drying apparatus it also can be used for entertaining purposes; such as the infamous Goon of Fortune, or more benignly as a shade screen or rain cover during the Australian summer and winter months (see images below.)
Over the past weekend I decided to explore the internal sonics of the Hills Hoist. My curiosity has been provoked some time ago when living in another house with a Hills Hoist in the backyard. When washing was hung from the line and the wind entered the backyard, the wind would occasionally catch something on the line (usually a bed sheet) and cause the Hills Hoist to turn. Depending on the position of the Hills Hoist, the turning motion would cause the internal shaft to rub against the outer shaft: resulting in a gentle, low metallic tone. It was – to my ears – a wonderful thing to hear occur as part of a kinetic interplay between the wind and the Hills Hoist.
I recorded the Hills Hoist in our current backyard by attaching a couple of JrF hydrophones (functioning as contact mics) with velcro straps: one to the inner shaft and outer shaft of the Hills Hoist respectively. The recordings below are the result of me ‘playing’ the Hills Hoist, since there was no wind present at the time of recording.
Now here’s something really special I thought I’d share courtesy of BBC4 and The Wired Lab. Sound recordist Chris Watson and composer Alan Lamb discuss and interrogate the Wires. This brief programme presents an ideal introduction to this totally unique instrument which is located in regional New South Wales at The Wired Lab; facilitated by artists, Sarah Last and David Burraston.