It’s been a long trek on public transport to get here, and a bit stressful on the Tube with all of the tripods and kit bag, that has put in to perspective a few things. It would have taken Constable, everyone, a lot longer to get around. For instance Constable used to walk from East Bergholt to Stratford St.Mary to catch the Stagecoach, which would then take 9-12 hours, conditions permitting, to get to London. Also on this project I’m working relatively close to home and have a car so can reach nearly everywhere pretty easily. Yes, I know that I’m having an impact and I have been weighing up the value of my work versus the impact I am having on the natural world. This work isn’t solely for me, but will be a sonic record for use by anyone in the future, under a Creative Commons licence. My carbon footprint, though quite large as much as car runs on petrol, is considerably less than a Shahed drone, from manufacture to deployment, and I feel that these recordings offer a somewhat more positive contribution to society than those. Still, it’s important to evaluate why and for whom I am doing this work, any work, and the benefits and side effect thereof.
This triangle of land between roads and off of the main body of Hampstead Heath is rather sedate and affords a calm spot amongst the bustle of the city. Parakeets, car horns, a helicopter, a couple walking their dogs, a jet overhead banking in to the clouds that are gorgeous shades of blue grey. A golden labrador being stroked by some strangers, a slow 4/4 beat (approx 115bpm) in the distance, women with jackets tied around their waists, two girls questioning what was worth filming over there, a woman talking on ‘hands free’, the pulse in my knee making my crossed leg bounce up and down, the bench plaque reading ’34º43’34.8”N 139º23’41.1”E’, laughter coming from the couple on the bench along the way, a woman waiting for her dog to do a poo, lot’s of gilets on the edge of Hampstead and it makes sense that building stopped before the steep slope here, people waling behind me, pairs of people stopping to check their phones so maybe there is a Pokemon Go here, an invisible layer of the world bringing members of a different community to this corner of the world. There are lots of layers, digital, geological, social, historical, atmospheric, all relevant to the same ‘place’. A heron, a beech leaf with a hole in it, some loud angry talking followed by some sirens, it's always about this time in a recording I’m feeling the need for some punctuation so maybe this is it, a different siren, a man in a cap pacing up and down, the cloud slowly thinning and more light reaching down to Earth, girls with coffees, a Vespa, a man whistling for his dog, a woman with a dog waving to the whistling man, they are pleased to see each other, the man has treats, a small boy on a bike stopping right in front of the mic, his father calling him away in possibly Italian. My body clock is a bit anxious today as it guessed at 55 minutes, a fire engine, leaves are falling from the trees at about 5 per minute (within my limited field of view), a man with a blue helmet on a bike gets off of his bike and heads down the track in front of the camera. I wonder if Constable was spoken to, questioned, viewed suspiciously, had his motive interrogated by members of the public whilst out capturing the landscape, I have over the years and with sound its easy to appease people’s suspicions but with image I imagine it will be more difficult. I’m sure I will find out. Two lads stop talking as they pass by the mic and resume further along the path. Birds identified are Magpie, Sparrow, Wren, Great Tit, Dunnock, Robin and Chiffchaff. Listen to the whole hour on YouTube, or the 20 minute except on Soundcloud below.
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I’d forgotten that Sudbury-to-the-Sea was on today, so luckily, I have arrived in good time to get some boating action, I ask River Stour Trust volunteer Alan Ryan if I can film and after some banter, he agrees. He and two other volunteers are operating the lock today for S2S, which is a yearly fundraising event, meaning that there are lots of people and boats on the river today. A man knocks the camera tripod with his kayak so I have to put it back, hopefully in the same position, I bet Constable didn’t have anyone knock his easel with a horse on the tow path, or perhaps there was less vegetation in his day so he could stand further clear of the path and its users, people on kayaks and paddle boards weigh up to whether to wait for the lock to fill up with participants or jump out and drag their boats to the portage, I’m keeping an eye out for my friend Matt and his family as they are taking part, a lady telling her dog that the mic might be a squirrel but then suggesting that it wouldn’t be a good idea to kill it, the volunteers close the back of the lock and then undo the pen stops at the front of lock to let the water drain out, they chat with the boaters on the lock whilst it empties, ‘You’re on the home stretch!’ he says encouragingly, a couple with two kayaks side by side taking care past the microphone, one of the volunteers goes to close a pen stop at the back of the lock that was open and filling it up as it was emptying, the gate opens and everyone thanks the volunteers as they head on down stream, the lock is shut again and they head to the back fill it up again.
It’s a continual cycle but now for leisure and not for industry. Before the locks were built the river had to be dammed with logs and branches to back the water up and then quickly pulled away to create a huge rush of water that was deep enough for the barges to be pulled over the shallows, or change in elevation, by horse against the current! Needless to say that lock technology transformed the transportation of goods immeasurably. But also changed the structure of the river from flowing to very slow moving and that impacted the habitats of many species living in the river. One of those was the eel, as being a migratory species they swam to the Sargasso Sea near Bermuda (!) to spawn, but couldn’t navigate past the locks which impacted its ability to swim back up river when it returned. Now, special devices that bridge the locks and weirs are installed to help the eels movement up the river. One of the boaters declares ‘Lock Pastie!” before tucking in, as Alan and his team close the rear gates approaching boaters shout to be let in so they open it again, the boaters cheer! Just as they close the gate again another request, which adds to the workload and they open and close the gate again. A couple with a baby in a papoose, a dog crying, ‘No Fishing’. The cycle continues, water only heading down stream, as are the boaters, towards the sea. They’re nearly there after two days of paddling, on the last leg to Cattawade and the finish line to collect their certificate. An Irish Wolf Hound, its owner with similarly proportioned legs, a few spots of rain, a quiet moment before the lock is ready to go again, and a new lot of boats fill it up. Somehow its only now, at 55 minutes in, that I feel like I’m imposing, and thankfully the hour beep in my headphones soon sounds itself, I need to let it roll for a couple more minutes to give me room to edit off the rusting and faffing about when setting up and stopping. Unfortunately I didn’t see my friends come through. Listen to the whole hour on our YouTube page. *Due to the large number of members of the public in this film, that are clearly recognisable, I have uploaded this version that uses a still image of the location instead of the film footage. I gained permission from the River Stour Trust volunteers to record them.*  Yesterday a storm front blew in and passed over head. In front of it the warm summer air and behind it the cooler air of autumn. I didn’t realise until it had passed but the difference was clear and defining. Today the wind is feisty, autumnal, and its effects on the trees dominates the sonic space. Imagine being a tree, or a nomad, constantly at the mercy of the elements. No wonder the leaves are browning, yellowing, reddening, having endured months of intense sunlight, rain, wind, with no respite. Those fragile paper thin structures, so hardy.
I have come on a Friday to avoid the hordes, families, paddleboarders, dog owners, smokers, and sometimes that’s just one person, screaming, splashing, smiling, relaxing. Living. But that’s not for me. I prefer the quiet solitude of off-peak. I usually prefer off-piste too, but this project is otherwise, out of my comfort zone and into the spotlight, but doing what I enjoy most. Pond skaters, ducks, the weir letting the Stour trickle through, holding it back, keeping it slow and steady, like the rental revenue on those flats in the Mill building. It is a different mill to in Constable’s time, but still. It stands as a monument to industry, labour, the effort of those generations making their daily bread, surviving, working for the man. It is strange that in just one spot, place, so many decisions, influences, powers, monies, have come to gather to make a once navigable river to transport goods, from Mistley, where seagoing vessels were unloaded on to Lighters (barges) as far inland as the ‘port’ of Sudnury. And then to transport different goods in the reverse direction. Just a few decades later and it was superseded by the railways. A man on a strange paddle board/seagoing kayak/super yacht hybrid, lots of berries on the trees in readiness for winter, some harsh pruning. He notices me, and the kit, and studies us for a while before paddling off. I have swam in this mill pond several times but the water quality is too bad now, my trunks staying put in their new drawer for a good few months yet. ‘Danger: Deep Water’. I hope someone is in deep water and that CEO’s the land over are carrying the can for the unacceptable state of the Countries waterways. A woman in a puffer jacket taking a photograph across the pond, a damsel fly, which is one of the 22 species on this river, I am unable to tell which, a woman jogging, fish making swirls on the waters surface, a dark cloud covering the sun and turning off the heat. One day this place will not be here, and all of the memories of it will be gone. A sock in a tree, a bus heading to Dedham, a motorbike, those with the loudest mouths, exhausts, will be remembered, a man looking at the mic as he goes by, two people all dressed in blue with binoculars, the fish trying to catch flies just above the waters surface, a couple that I have seen four times walking their dog but the man walks ahead followed by the dog pulling the woman reluctantly along, a strimmer or maybe a hedge trimmer. Watch the whole hour on YouTube.  Tourists taking photos, a woman coming from the Mill Residencies, a man singing, a chat about exam results, a man getting his photo taken with a baby, I’m featuring in people’s photographs, or influencing their decision not to take one, being in ‘the’ spot means that others also gravitate there, pause to get ‘the’ shot, then leave, voices of sports players drift on the wind, bicycles on the gravel, one of the cyclists singing, people waiting on the other bench getting bored waiting for me to move on so they go off in a huff, a cormorant, a light aircraft, tourists being dropped off by a Toyota EV, a man asking if the recording kit is mine, the tourists taking longer to get in the car than they were looking at the view, distant motor bikes, Moorhen, sitting on the bench in memory or Edna Cartwright, wood pigeons flitting from tree to the chimney on Willy Lott’s House, two cars, one coming in and one going out, jackdaws, the lad from the car coming in walking past and going in to Mill House, dog growling at the mic, a Kite ridind the wind.
As the world burns, fights, suffers, warms, society slowly implodes, capitalism collapses, doubles down, genocide is administered, famine engineered, drones are optimised for warfare, billions syphoned away from social needs, people exploited, trafficked, abused, killed, left to rot or fend for themselves, resources mined, the earth torn apart, extracted, refined, manufactured, advertised, marketed, sold, used, thrown away. All of that is happening right now, everywhere, except here. Here there are people making memories, sharing time together, making the most of the late warm summer afternoon, getting a glimpse of the chocolate box, the Moorhen wrestling with some weed, Willy Lott’s Cottage, of the ladies blue hair. Sheltered, protected, preserved, presented. Sheltering me, protecting me, preserving me, presenting me, as the chocolate box? There is always a chocolate that is the least favoured, but less weight gained by not eating those. The high whispy clouds of this tranquil vista visible but out of reach could easily be the smoke of destruction a screen to hide the horrors behind heavens and hells are the same ideology but from the view points of the perpetrators or victims. Now on Youtube.  It took a while to locate the position of this painting. After researching on Google Street View I initially thought it was down School Street, or from a garden on that road, but following my nose and eyes I saw a large bank on the east of the now B1087, or Church Street. It was hard to get to a position where the white cottage o the left was near enough to the church, but it may not be the building in the painting. Anyhow, the paintings are often not exactly depicting the topography. With the path and overhanging trees to the right and church at around the correct distance, and without any local knowledge, I felt it was a reasonable guess. Also, Church Street in the bottom of the frame looks to be a by pass so may not have even been in existence during the 1810’s. More research needed here. This road is now pretty busy, even on a Sunday morning. A substantial house has also been built on Church Street since Constables time but the occupants of this provided some additional sounds on the recording. It is September tomorrow and there is some bird activity returning to the quiet summer months. It feels as if there has been a long summer this year, starting in May with some very hot periods outweighing the grey and rainy moments. There is a dampness this morning, autumn is early as the blackberries are over already, the leaves and plums are falling, and the pears are nearly ready. An upside to filming, which I do on my phone, means I can sit, listen, slow down, think, immerse myself more fully in being ‘here’. But not having the phone means that I can’t identify birds in real time (and have to do this during post production), identify aircraft destinations or take photographs. Having two phone would definitely be excessive. I make my movements at the same time as louder noises such as cars, so that listeners are distracted by the sounds and not by my stretching out a leg with pins and needles etc. Saturday drivers, cyclists powering up the hill, an easy rider on an electric bike, dog walkers, a yapping dog in a walled garden, a telescopic truck with no forks, a 20mph Zone that no one slows for, the moisture from the moss on the bench finally reaching my arse, a lady bird on the arm of the bench walking over the moss instead of around it, its existence not previously witnessed or noted, 3 out of three cars with their windows firmly to the top not letting the fresh rural morning air in, actually filled with the scent of a two stroke engine, whips featherlike streaks of cloud coming from the south, feint fluffy bals of cloud, lower, coming from the west, the ladybird flying towards them, a lady closing her balcony door, she had been letting the fresh rural morning air in, cyclists freewheeling down the hill, the sound of the wind in the trees, the sound of ash windows being opened, the smell of coal. I’m finding it hard to zone in today. I think that will change if I up the frequency of recording trips. It is always about time, and the quality of time. Then the quantity of quality time. Birds identified are Magpie, Dunnock, Wren, Coal Tit, Chiffchaff, Blackbird, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Great Tit, Jackdaw, Long Tailed Tit, Nuthatch, Collared Dove, Blue Tit, Wood Pigeon, Robin. The full recording is now on YouTube. |
AuthorField notes from Stuart Bowditch, an independent sound artist working on Constable Ambisonic. Archives
March 2026
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