‘The bright work’, originally published on 2009 and reissued on February of 2012, was largely made with hydrophones, very likely the ones Jez Riley French builds himself.
Hydrophones offer a very particular experience as what we hear is sound propagated through water, though a fluid. Fluids and sound waves have similar behaviors under certain circumstances, but what is interesting here is that the hydrophone hearing experience would suppose an immersive experience, but instead ‘The bright work’ seems to be more about textures, scales and friction. It’s like if water became a large membrane we use to listen to the surface of solid container of this water. A tactile and visual surface with detailed features and beautiful narratives.
Water and fluids acquire the shape of their container, they also tend to propagate and its behavior changes based on the molecular interaction with its container. On a more cultural approach water serves as mirror, the origin of the image. Anyway on ‘The bright work’ I’d say water is more of a metaphor to the space between ourselves and the things, to the distance we need to establish to have an image of things.
Water here works like some sort of a membrane, a magnifying glass, a medium to relate to the micro, to a reductionist approach through the possibility of listening to sounds otherwise inaccessible for human listening.
What is quite poetic here is what does Jez Riley French finds on this sounds that makes him want to play them to us. How his mediation as artist and sound capturer imprints his experience in these sounds: how his mediation imprints his emotions, thoughts, reflections and questions in the sounds we listen here.
‘The bright work’ is a work that serves to understand all the depth and transcendence behind the premise that in sound art sound is both the medium and subject. There is an immanent sort of “extraordinary” and revealing element in the hearing experience, in the reduction of the hearing that puts the listener in contact with something that he can’t necessarily comprehend but that he feels and experiences. This is no longer a metaphorical, figurative and descriptive process: this is sort of a metaphysical exercise: a way to sensibly address questions about ourselves and about the world.
Again, ‘The bright work’ is a very successful work as it provides a universal sense to the act of Jez Riley French recordings the water of some specific sites with hydrophones. The sense found here is the sense of relating to the world and relate to ourselves in a way different to the question / answer approach. More like if we subtract ourselves intellectually in order to feel the cosmos we are part of and have an actual meaningful transcendent experience.
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Jez riley French’s Four Objects is an exploration into the amplification of sound miniatures. Over the course of forty minutes French directs his microphones towards four different objects, including: a piezo disc microphone, a teasel plant, a slate window, a tea flask. These pieces are strategically presented without any compositional intent, each of them being unmodified field recordings. As stated on his website French questions the use of processed sound, concerned that it is removing our ability to listen. Four Objects can therefore be read as an exercise in listening, a form of anti-composition which challenges the audience to become fully immersed within its microscopic worlds.
When French isn’t releasing his own material he is well-known for creating microphones. Four Objects showcases them well. The first track, a piezo disc slowly breaking, captures the tiny crackles and pops of a microphone in its death throes. For ten minutes we listen to the various sounds associated with this process. As with the ensuing recordings the piezo disc is presented without any external ambience. In light of French’s raison d’être this sole focus upon a single object enables the audience to be absorbed into its sonic realm without any other distraction.
A teasel plant on a windy day takes us to the surface of this prickly plant as it sways in the wind. A contact microphone amplifies the plant’s fast irregular rattles, each with its own pitch and wooden resonance. Listening to the recording we are drawn into the plant as it moves from side to side.
A slate windowsill captures a low drone-like vibration emanating from the surface of a sill. While the other tracks feature variously recognisable tonalities and slight moments of silence a slate windowsillhas a relentless propulsion that is at once mesmeric and disturbing.
A flask at q-02 is the final track in the release. Here French presents the sound of hot air as it slowly escapes from a tea-flask. The track’s placement at the end of the release seems critical, reminding us that a world of sound lies before us in the most mundane of objects.
French’s Four Objects is as much a celebration of sound as it is about the act of listening. The duration of the tracks requires the audience to listen beyond the limits of their usual attention span. It also obliges the audience to forego the anticipation of listening for climactic sound-events. Instead French invites us to lose ourselves within the moment of listening and to recognise that music naturally exists around us.
Estonian Strings -- Jez riley French (Gruenrekorder) Jez riley French is well known for his work exploring sounds that are normally hidden from the general listener. His recordings bring forth new life into environments that are not actively forthcoming when it comes to sharing their acoustic qualities, thereby opening up new sound environments to explore. "Estonian Strings" is the latest offering from French and takes the form of a 42 minute composition based on recordings made during his first trip to Estonia in the spring of 2009. With his constant desire to investigate new sonic sources, French applied his contact microphones to a variety of "found strings". "I found transmitter cables, long chimney support cables, disused piano wires stretched across old farm utensils, rust covered fences -- each one a surprise, a discovery and a joy to listen to." The result of this foray into the unknown is a select series of field recordings that have been patiently worked together to create a pulsating, otherworldly piece that quietly beckons to the listener. Headphones are a definite must if you want to fully appreciate the multilayered intricacies of this work. With headphones, 'Estonian Strings' takes on an almost mesmeric quality; the piece is unhurried and minimal, yet it seems almost impossible to remove oneself from this strange world. The changing tone of the work is unquestionably subtle, but there is enough happening to retain more than a passing interest in the content. With his ear for the unusual and an unflinching curiosity, French once again opens up a portal to reveal a wealth of usually concealed sounds. Just the right balance has been struck between content and composition here, making 'Estonian Strings' an intriguing and enjoyable listening experience. ct
JrF: when & why did you become interested in field recording ?
PT: The very first signs of interest in field recording for me started around the age of eight or nine years old. I remember sitting on a quayside in South Devon, listening to the sounds of small boats with outboard motors, making their way across the estuary. It was at that moment on the quay, when I realised that everything in the outside world had it’s own particular frequency tone or note, not just the world of musical instruments. I’d been learning to play piano from the age of five and so already had a great interest in music. I would listen and think, “that motor is a 2nd octave A# and that one is nearly a middle C. “.
At the age of around 10 (1977), I used to have one of those old Philips flat 70’s cassette machines with a built in microphone. I would take it out into the garden and leave it recording somewhere, hopefully to capture bird song and some of the atmosphere.
(JrF: the 'garden with portable childhood tape recorder is also how I first began exploring & one wonders just how many of us recordists were inspired by similar adventures)
Also back then, I listened to plays on the radio and would usually be much more fascinated with the background sounds, specifics and foley effects than the actual plot. Over the years as a musician, my interest in field recording grew, first using a Awia HHB 1 pro dat recorder and then a minidisc to capture sounds to use with my music. In 2007, as a member of the audiovisual group Addictive TV, we had the rare chance to stay for two weeks in Bhutan to document and record ancient Bhutanese Buddhist dance, which were specially performed for us. We had about two weeks notice before we knew it was really going to happen, so quickly had to get my hands on some decent recording kit, or at least what was available with my budget at the time. I bought an Edirol R4 pro, which had just come out and still use it to this day. An audio-technica AT835st and two Rode NTG-2 microphones. As well as recording the dances and the musical instruments, we had the chance to go out and field record / film way out in the countryside. It was while recording cicadas that it really hit home how much I loved doing this and wanted to pursue my interest in wildlife recording someday, especially now that I had a decent 4 track recorder! The microphones are no longer used; because I found the signal to noise ratio and quality wasn’t really good enough for wildlife recording.
Since then I have been building up my collection of equipment, attended several courses at Wildeye with Chris Watson and Jez riley French and have been out as much as possible collecting sounds and improving my knowledge of field craft. Doing this has also given me a greater knowledge and a deeper love of wildlife and the natural world.
One thing I would love to get, is a really good preamp mixer like a Sound Devices or SQN, although I must say the preamps on the Edirol R4 pro are quite good, especially for the price !
JrF: how do you use your field recordings in your own artistic output ?
PT: I use my field recordings as pieces in there own right and in my own music compositions. Because of my background in producing electronic music and with a long love of Dub Reggae, I’m currently working on a project using my wildlife / nature recordings; it’s rhythms, sounds and textures in a project called “Nature in Dub”. Some of the field recordings for this project are kept untouched, some may be slowed down, speeded up or manipulated in some way, but always trying to keep a sense or feeling of the location or source of the original recording. It’s for this reason, I find it most important to collect the nature sounds myself, rather than just getting permission to use other peoples recordings. The fact that I have personally experienced the location with all my senses, the smell of the place, how cold or hot it felt, watching and listening first hand to the particular bird, mammal, insect etc, will help me when creating the Dub tracks in the studio. Listening back to the field recordings, will instantly bring back those memories and senses, aiding me in the creative process.
I have also created soundtracks for installations, one of which was for artist Heather Tampling on the disappearance of bees in the UK. Recording a hive with omni and contact microphones. The very small DPA omni microphones gave a very nice natural recording for the beginning of the piece and the JrF contact microphones recorded the sounds of bees scuttling around the hive. This was used later in the piece, mixed in with other darker sounds and a young female voice narrating the chemical names of insecticides which are having an impact the bee population. The contact microphone recordings gave a real sense of urgency & desperation to the track.
JrF: do you regard 'natural' sounds as a musical element (bearing in mind that the conventional definition of 'music' is rapidly becoming obsolete) or as sound ? is this definition important ? does it matter ?
PT: Bearing in mind that most of my field recording is based on capturing the sounds of nature and wildlife, there’s very often a musical element, either in tone, rhythm or texture. I personally think of any natural sound I hear, as a kind of music. In making "Nature in Dub" though, I suppose I'm thinking in a more traditional use of the word "music" in mind, i.e, good rhythms, atmospheres, nice loops or calls that can work with other instruments and sounds using traditional musical scales.
Is the definition important? Does it matter? Not for myself, only in terms of giving the information you want to portray when your playing, releasing or performing a piece, to give some kind of guideline or clue to your public. Sometimes though, depending on the type of piece, it might be best just not to label it at all and leave that role for the reviewers & critics! For me it’s all just part of the rich wonderful world of audio, which I could not live without.
JrF: has the act of making field recording had an effect (positive or negative) on the way you listen to your everyday surroundings and how has it affected the way you listen to other music and sound (if at all) ?
PT: The act of making field recordings has defiantly had a positive effect on the way I listen to everyday sounds. I have always been a very keen listener to sound, but I've found especially through using microphones that can listen to sounds that are barely audible to the human ear, such as contact microphones to hear Death-watch beetles, or using hydrophones where your literally fishing for sound (sometimes from unknown sources), or listening to birds and mammals at a very close range, only possible by keeping a good distance and using long runs of microphone cable, it has certainly made me listen at a closer and more detailed level than I ever did before.
As I have already said, it’s also giving me a greater knowledge in learning the sounds and calls of wildlife and given me a greater respect and love for the natural world. On the negative side, I've noticed all the more how much human sound pollution (if that’s the right word?) is having an impact on the wildlife and us. In an ever-increasing population with more cars, planes etc, I think it’s most important that natural sounds are recorded whilst it's still possible and shared to the public.
Sharing recordings on the internet can have a very crucial roll, giving listeners who may live in very built up areas, a chance to listen to these recordings and maybe in some small way, uplift their spirits. I'm always very interested in the way field recordings can have an effect when listened to in a very different location or space from where the original recording was made, sometimes making the recording even more powerful and all the more interesting.
