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Field Notes: East Bergholt Church, Ruined Tower 20th July 2025

21/7/2025

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I wasn’t early enough, by 10 minutes, as the bellringers started about 9:40, the intel from Dennis was slightly wrong. A lady walking through the graveyard shouted ‘Happy Recording!’ before I was actually recording, the headphones disconnected (wireless) after 5 minutes so I was unable to monitor the sound, the bells clipped a bit at the beginning of the recording as they were so loud even at about 30 feet away (they are usually way up in a tower projecting across town rather than at ground level), a good chat to the East Bergholt Ringers that were In favour of the recording and passed details of local     people to speak to, sounds from the town masked out the sounds of the aircraft which makes a pleasant change from the aircraft masking out the sounds of nature, organ and singing of hymns coming from inside the Church, they tyres of SUVs roaring past, a white unidentified flying feather hovering in the graveyard for 20 seconds before floating to the ground, a young man wearing a wind cheater in the rain.


The Pied Wagtail of Bergholt
the Pied Piper
​made me realise as I watched it twitching its tail from on top of a gravestone
that nature is a huge improvised ensemble
that could at any moment produce
a flourish
a drone
a rhythm
a fill
a chorus
a crescendo
a pause
and that beauty that exists in a moment
that only you witness
and then is gone
unseen by anyone else

go to it
and sit quietly until it comes to you
meet it half way

go to a concert of improvised music
to hear, see a recreation 
an imitation of the same process
in the best way that we know how.

all music is historical
unless it is being created right in the moment
be in the space where it is being made 
to get an unfiltered experience
natural sound is the same
listen to it without inhibition
raw, real and undiluted

the predetermined 
controlled
mapped out plan of conformity to life 
is as far away from this
as being locked in prison.
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Interview with Terri Bowditch

13/7/2025

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As part of the Constable Ambisonic project I want to understand how we perceive the landscape, and what did Constable and his contemporaries bring to our understanding of the natural world, and who else has contributed to the language used and ideals we hold in regard to perception of landscape. Here I talk to my mum, Terri Bowditch to try to understand how we came to live in the semi-rural town Essex market town, and how that affected my life growing up in the 1970's and 80's, in comparison to North West London where they had moved from.
Stuart Bowditch · Constable Ambisonic - Perception of Landscape with Terri Bowditch
interview_with_terri_bowditch_5th_may_2025.pdf
File Size: 167 kb
File Type: pdf
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Field Notes: An Evening Landscape 7TH JULY 2025

8/7/2025

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‘I do not study much abroad these very hot bright days, last year I almost put my eyes out by that past time.’

Sheep, there were no cars when setting up but now there are cars close on the lane, cars further on the A12, aircraft, woodpecker, this is a great vantage point and suddenly I can get a sense of what Constable would have seen, fell, connected with, these are the same fields (need to get a map of the field names), ancient boundaries, and I hide behind one out of sight but not out of my mind, but this high up on a gentle hill the sound from the vale drifts up and there are sirens, and boy racers, I thin that they should put a volume limit of roads as well as a speed limit. But then I remind myself that this is probably the last hurrah of the combustion engine era, pheasant, jackdaws roosting, skylarks, storm flies, a donkey, thrush, rustling grass in the hedgerow.


​Old stump
Hidden in the grass, hiding
Trying to be invisible but failing
Tinder dry from the long hot spell
Magic
Old hits
A three minute wonder
Verse chorus verse chorus
A chorus of the Song Thrush
Singing along lines in the sky
Trails of tales
That for hundreds of years
This field fares well
It’s still here
Providing sustenance
For sheep
A forever search
For the tender
Moist and nutritious
Nibbled out 
And then moved on
Finding ones own path
Amongst the herd
Free within the field
But don’t go too near the edges
As you’ll see the way out 
Is blocked
And that there is another side
People peering in
Across, over
Under the grass hiding.
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    Field notes from Stuart Bowditch, an independent field recordist working on Constable Ambisonic.

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