A dawn recording of birds and rain from my window overlooking a wooded park. The park is home to many doves, jays, magpies and numerous kinds of little birds I don’t know the names of. It forms my contribution to the compilation Pass it on ~ Early Morning Soundscapes ⨀.
Blaring local pop music from a horn speaker mounted atop the driver’s cab, trucks arrive early in the morning at a crossroads north of Pune to take workers to the fields, in the mean time waking every one in the nearby guest house up. And so, we take a walk into the nearby countryside over the pastures and fields to find that the red soil glows in the morning sunlight.
This residential street in the city of Montevideo is quiet in the late afternoon. Someone plays a piano; someone else drives nails with a hammer. There are a few cars and motorbikes. Most striking, however, is the sound of the afilador, whose careering slide whistle lets the neighborhood know that he is available to sharpen their knives.
I went down into the bazaars of the old city of Urfa (today called Sanlıurfa ) two times that day last July; early in the morning to make photographs, before the business of the day had really begun; and later that day, when the bazaar was in full swing, to capture some of the common sounds of the streets, shops, shoppers, craftsmen at their trades, and the streetside teahouses.
How heavy the blackness is, yet how easily pierced by light. The night reluctantly recedes from the advance of electricity; a grid of incandescent windows, the shreik of a bright advertisement, the swinging beams of a passing vehicle. The fragments of night scuttle off in all directions, to hide in the glades, and collect the in dark corners, the lightless caverns of the imagination.
This anthology draws acousmatic portraits of reveries or direct experiences of the night, whose interchange with the day forms one of the most fundamental dichotomies of human existence.
- night poem 8 m
- milky way 10 m
- passage 18 m
- nocturne 15 m