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About two weeks ago, I was on a barge travelling down part of the Northamptonshire arm of the Grand Union Canal. There was banked up snow a metre thick in places along the road side. Our first morning on water was spent breaking through the ice of a frozen canal. We travelled back through snow at times, leaping on and off the boat to open and close locks, snowflakes falling around us.

But now, after what seems like about 3 days of sunshine, spring is EVERYWHERE! Bold, bright dawn chorus. Birds singing over the hedgerows as I ride home from work. And blossom. Blossom, blossom, blossom.

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Which lead me to this wonderful piece of music by
Loren Connors & David Grubbs

Gig envy

Lucy Stevens is a East Midlands based ( I think ) audio and visual artist whose work looks at the relationships between the human world and the natural world. I’ve followed her work for a bit and found ‘the pigeon stuff‘ a really interesting – turning the mundane and everyday into something special. Her latest residency though looks amazing and is sooooo my dream gig.

 

 

 

For her latest project, Lucy is going to Ricklundgården, in Southern Lapland to create recordings, drawing and digital prints of birdsong. Yep, she gets to sit in idyllic beauty listening to birds and nature and drawing all day. Like I say, MASSIVE GIG ENVY. Am really looking forward to see what comes of this and also reading about the work in progress via the blog she has especially set up for it here – Drawing Birdsong

He retreats to his shell and listens to bells

Well, there was a lot of effort and excitement that went into the Public Service Broadcasting gigs that went ‘PFFFT’ in a moment after the first show; my ears buggered by the massive volume of a PA trying to make the music heard over 200 odd people chatting to one another.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. I had to pull out of the other shows as I couldn’t go through with it another two nights in a row.

Ironically, I have taken solace in one of the loudest sounds I know. Church bells.

The new bells of Notre Dame courtesy of the wonderful Des Coulam

 

 

 

 

 

But what if music was or is….

I’ve mentioned Andy Goldsworthy before, when talking about ephemarilty in music before and watching this made me think about it all over again.

I know that music is fleeting, temporary but our documenting of it undoes that ( not that I  think that is a negative thing ). But imagine if the documenting of that transitory moment could only be done by those there and not with recorded sound. If all you had was a description in words and sound told and made by those that witnessed it. How would it sound to you then? Would it be as strong or would it be altogether something greater drawn of the imagination?