This hour long mix comprises of field recordings made on and around Spring Equinoxes of various years. It takes you down through the Northern Hemisphere – from my sitting room in East London to a cottage balcony in the tropical forests of Borneo. Listen for Slovenian jackals, Polish moor frogs, a Himalayan shepherd herding sheep, a hippopotamus getting ready for the night in Sierra Leone and choirs of birds singing across the globe.
It was only in researching for this show that I realised the equinox actually refers not to a whole day but a single moment in time, when the sun faces directly over the equator, granting the entire globe with roughly equal length days and nights around it. I was captivated by this idea of a single moment of equilibrium and the impossibility of capturing that – which is much like the experience of listening itself, always dissolving as soon as you try to catch hold. And the equinox moment itself is both something of a physical reality, and pure idea, constructed entirely by an imaginary line humans have drawn and named the equator. Again, this paradox seems to resonate with the act of field recording, which both records a physical reality of a time and place through the sound waves that are imprinted through a microphone, but also creates a totally new and artificial object of its own.
Whilst lines of longitude go from east to west and determine clock time, lines of latitude go from North to South and determine climate, with the suns rays becoming more intense the further south we go. Whilst enjoying one of the first sunny days we’ve had in London (where I am) in a long time, I decided to structure this mix along lines of latitude, moving from North to South through the Northern Hemisphere. I wonder if listeners will be able to feel the sun’s intensity increasing through their ears.
It was a privilege to shape these extraordinary sounds into a journey. Whilst making it I found myself contemplating the equinox as a time of both stillness and motion, sameness and divergence, meeting and departure – and I invite you to listen into this space of contradiction with me.
Anna Clock is a composer, sound artist and researcher. Their practice is rooted in live acts of listening and challenging audiences to listen to each other, and their world, in new ways. They play the cello and also cut hair. They are currently pursuing an AHRC-funded Collaborative Doctoral Award with the Science Museum and Royal Holloway University exploring quantum aurality and how we listen to outer space.
Recent works have been heard in Barbican, Royal Court Theatre, Wellcome Collection, The Albany, 100 years Gallery (UK), Project Arts Centre, Gate Theatre (IRL), Times Square Arts, Irish Arts Centre (USA) Dresden Staatschauspiel, Staatstheater Mainz (GER), CIRKO (FIN) and on Radio 4, Radio 3, Resonance FM and RTE Lyric radio.
Playlist:
[01:19-03:45] A mysterious voice memo at the piano (me)
[03:45-05:20] Bartlett park (me) | UK
[05:20-07:16] Dawn’s Chorus: Mating Calls of Moor Frogs at Sunrise: Jakub Orzecki | Poland
[07:16-10:11] Howling Jackals: Jan Brelih | Slovenia
[10:11-12:01] Wood Frogs at the Library: Mike Bullock | USA
[12:01-15:10] Dawn Chorus in the Early Days of Spring: Enis Çakar | Türkiye
[15:10-20:05] Incoming Tide at Gold Bluffs Beach: Kelly Rafuse | USA
[20:05 -25:45] Snowfall in Himalayas: Jan Brelih | India
[25:45-31:59] Soft Dawn Chorus in the Jungles of Nepal: George Vlad | Nepal
[30:22-35:37] Himalaya Forest Valley: Jan Brelih | India
[35:37-40:36] Himalayan Shepherd: Jan Brelih | India
[40:36-45:33] Dawn Chorus at Mora River: Giselle Ragoonanan | Trinidad and Tobago
[45:33-48:07] Busy Dawn Chorus in the Savannah: Sounding Wild | Sierra Leone
[48:07-49:38] Gentle Wind at Dusk in the Savannah: Sounding Wild | Sierra Leone
[49:30-51:42] Hippopotamus Preparing for the Night: Sounding Wild | Sierra Leone
[51:42-52:24] Nocturnal Pulse: Usun Apau Ancient Forest: Jan Brelih | Malaysia
[52:24-53:51] Night Walk in Rainforest Discovery Center: Gina Lo | Malaysia
[53:51-58:05] Bornean Anura: Gina Lo | Malaysia
