Click on circle(s) to play the field recordings, again to stop
When I collect field recordings in urban environments there are some sounds which are seemingly
inescapable. The vast majority of these are human-made, cars and planes often being the most
prominent. However, there is another type of sound, almost as ubiquitous in my recordings, and that
is birdsong. Often in the places I set up my microphones and press record there is the chirping of
one or more or many birds. Why are they so prevalent in the sounds I record?
Is birdsong a common sound or I am drawn to these sounds as an acceptable and pleasing to listen to
recording in contrast to harsher sounds (traffic, construction etc) which does not fit into the
typologies of sound I want to collect? Is it a quick win when recording? Most people would probably
agree that birdsong is a pleasant thing to listen to and by collecting these I have built up a
library of “agreeable” sounds. Or is there a deeper meaning connected to how Mark Peter Wright talks
about the extractivist nature of field recording in Listening After Nature:
“Capturing sound in its ‘outdoor’ context triggered a culture of sonic extraction that mirrored the
drive for natural resources. It sowed the seeds of a practice-based myth that sound could be
captured endlessly, without consequence or critical reflection.”
The ubiquity of birdsong as a recording source is seemingly a bottomless well but with multiple
studies pointing to the drastic decline in bird populations am I ignoring a major problem?
Or is it just lazy? Many of my fields recordings are used in the music and soundworks I make, and
birdsong fits easily into “ambient” music. How can these recordings be used in more interesting
ways? Do they always have to be recognisable? How can I move beyond this?
There are things, obvious once observed, which I have noticed about the birdsong recordings I have
collected. I mainly record in relatively urban places, like Hackney Marshes - a large open space
with surrounding copses but still within five miles of the City of London, and remarked to myself on
the prevalence of birdsong in the recordings. However when I have made recordings outside of urban
areas - most recently Cornwall and rural Suffolk - the volume and number of birds increases
drastically creating a cacophony of sound.
Earlier this year I visited an exhibition at one of London’s main museums that contained piped
birdsong to accompany a section displaying pictures of birds. While the sound also included other
’natural’ sounds such as streams and rainfall, there was not a corresponding recording covering
other sections of the exhibition. Again is birdsong used because it is a “pleasing” sound which will
invoke a feeling of calm amongst the gallery attendees. Even weirder on a visit a few years ago to a
nature reserve, piped birdsong was played in a section of long grass close to the visitors centre,
perhaps to give people a taste of what might to come as they explored the reserve further. Still
seemed like a slightly incongruous decision when there was real birdsong only a short walk from the
canned sounds.
Birdsong recordings: