Igloo Magazine :: Ard Bit :: Field Recordings

No clear beginning or end, only a slow movement forward, until the rumble stops

Field Recordings – 07 Iceland is built around a continuous earth rumble running through all tracks, with different environments, movements, and musical and experimental layers derived from the recordings unfolding on top of it. Recorded in Iceland, this work unfolds as a continuous field rather than separate tracks. A low, persistent earth rumble runs through the entire piece, forming a shifting ground on which other soundscapes appear and dissolve. These soundscapes are built on the earth’s rumble. Meltwater, wind, birds, sea and movement pass through this field. Moments of stillness and motion alternate, sometimes minimal, sometimes more layered, without settling into fixed scenes. Musical and experimental layers emerge from these recordings, extending rather than describing the environment. There is no clear beginning or end, only a slow movement forward, until the rumble stops.

I celebrate the art of careful listening, perhaps nothing happens, which calls for more from the sound itself, as captured at that time and in those circumstances. The opening is very quiet, “Meltice” (6:08), imagine sitting in silence for a moment, then the tiny trickling sounds emerge, soon there are more quiet flowing water sounds, the electronics are located slightly below the nature sounds, almost a drone but with complications, moody and rich. I had to look under my speakers for possible puddles. The sound of walking on a gritty wet path, the wind picks up, “Canvas” (9:36), and when the harsh wind hits the canvas and makes it flap there is a lot of sound. The electronic sounds stay calm in the background, perhaps acting as sort of a tragic drone. I hear birds from the shoreline grumbling and calling, suddenly there seem to be so many birds sharing the same restless moods. The ghost of Alfred Hitchcock has brought all the birds from his 1963 movie, and they are still angry. They are letting us know that they are here and they are ready.

Next we are walking in shallow water, “Don’t Fall” (7:28), I hope we have good boots. Soon the electronica eases forward adding fluttering tension, are we carrying something heavy? Perhaps we are pulling something through the mud, the music is bubbling around, fading out, fading in, sometimes just lingering low and slow nearby. “Circling Close” (9:46) brings wind in the dune grass, with birds chirping over the surrounding hills. Suddenly we are very close to the hungry gulls, an angry avian mob, making sharp remarks to each other. Somewhere further away the drone breathes, just barely audible behind the chatter of the birds. But now the electronics have taken over and have us whirling around, while the birds come and go. Waves are breaking on the shore, ducks are quacking, some kind of electronic doom is fading in, “Off Shore” (7:24), now feel the suspense and the endless waves on the beach. I hear mostly birds and water, the electronic component is very slight.

The recorder has captured the sound of these events ::

On track six a drone orchestra is approaching like a ghost train from around the mountain at night, all this is a long way off and getting closer slowly, or not so slowly. Nature comes creeping in, the sound of water. Perhaps we are back at the shoreline where wind and water sounds emerge slowly, “Blindhæd” (7:58). Blindhaed means “blind rise” in Icelandic, a road sign common in the hills. Sometimes there is quiet, not much actual sound, but something is happening and the recorder has captured the sound of these events.

We are in a wet cave, there is an electronic instrument here too, “Loose Stones” (5:40) changes things up while occasional pebbles are tossed and bounce along. I think I hear snow being pressed or carved, but that passes. Sometimes there is the roar of ocean waves inside a shoreline cave, usually things are quiet and pebbles are tossed. Now it is time for the final track, “Trace” (8:42), which sounds like we are treading deep water in a cave. I think we are bobbing on the surface, perhaps paddling, over dark water with hidden deeper swirls. Here, the drone provides an echo that gives another dimension. Now we are walking in wet grit, there is a light grinding sound hidden within the cave echoes, just a few more steps. Or maybe the light grinding sound is something heavy being dragged, eventually things go dark and we sit in the quiet.

About the series: Field Recordings is an ongoing long-term project in which the artist, Ard Bit (Ard Janssen), listens to specific places and environments. Each release is a self-contained album, based on field recordings made on location. The recordings are either presented close to how they were captured or layered with musical and experimental forms derived from the original material. The project does not follow a fixed album cycle, but develops over time as a continuous practice. I treat natural and urban environments as active listening situations rather than background, focusing on details, rhythms and spatial qualities that often go unnoticed. The visual concept of Field Recordings is developed by Niels Vrijdag. For each release, a guest listener selects the color combination for the artwork, adding another layer of interpretation to the project. The colors for the cover artwork were chosen by Sascha Vreekamp, who shares the following reflection on the recordings.

Locations: Landmannalaugar / Hverir / Dettifoss / Hverfjall / Westfjords / Staður / Patreksfjörður / Ísafjörður / Bolungarvík / Grindavík