Advertise on podcast: Stuart Bowditch Podcasts

It is my third time in Venice and my third time exploring the vast building that is the Arsenale, that holds 25 national pavilions for the 61st International Art Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia in 2026. The works that resonated with me the most were that of the Latvian Pavilion, as it was a sound installation using transducers, something that I have used a lot in collaborative projects as well as my own work. Metal plates were turned into resonating panels through which sound was played and coloured, and as they hung freely were able to gently connect with the metal frames to create new real life sounds to compliment the played back prerecorded sound. The harsh fluorescent lighting added an edge to the atmosphere in the room that was amplified by the chrome surfaces. I placed my recorder on a bag near the floor the recording captures the shuffling feet of the Bienalle audience in the foreground to add a human quality to the clinical ambient sound in the space. More information about UNTAMED ASSEMBLY: BACKSTAGE OF UTOPIA can be found on their website https://www.latvianpavilion.lv/#about

I love Venice and this is the third time I have visited. A lot of people come for the art, the history or the wine. I come for the sound. In the absence of roads and the motor car, sound travels differently in Venice. Boundaries are broken with domestic sounds being audible outside, and public sounds being heard in private places. Sounds are more localised due smaller public places in alley ways and squares. And I think individual sounds appear clearer due to the lack of traffic din that usually muddies the soundscapes of other cities. In this recording my travelling companion heard the sound of an oboe being played in a room above the alley way of Saca de la Toleta, in the district of Dorsoduro. We positioned ourselves beneath the window for around 10 minutes, to finish off eating out street pizza, and to admire the beautiful juxtaposition of oboe practice from above, and passersby at close quarters below.

For a few Tuesday evenings on a row I had noticed that bingo was being played in the Church Hall near St.Andrew's. So I waited until the following week, took a stroll down the road and sat on the wall outside with my recorder. What a lovely moment on a warm summer evening. The moon was shining brightly on the way back.

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 electronic musician, Paul Blackburn aka Yggdrasil, about how sounds from the natural world inform his music, the relationship between analogue sounds and electronic hardware, and how humans are a part of nature.

During the eclipse of 1999 I was on some scaffolding in Islington, London, applying mastic to a block of flats. What I noticed at the time was that as well as the change in light, the sound changed too with everything, traffic, birds, people, becoming quieter. So 27 years later I decided that I wanted to try to capture that change in ambience. I found a quiet place on the map not far from where I live and walked on the footpaths to a gap in the hedgerow outside Pebmarsh, Essex. The eclipse happens in the middle of this recording, and listen to hear if you can detect any change, amongst the aircraft. There is a lovely treat at the end of the recording if you're in to birds.

It’s 10pm and I’m in the graveyard of St.Mary’s amongst the stones, I’ve tried to position myself near the image location but also not on any graves, it’s so quiet that even my notepad paper sounds loud as I write on it, the very distant A12 drone off to the north, a distant jet above, everything here is quiet which is letting sounds from further away be heard, the occasional passing car, no birds, no bats, no wind in the trees, no people passing. A long pause of not much, and then the silhouette of a bat above the nave, not a cloud in the sky, something crawling on my leg, the porch light, the weather vane, a flag pole with no flag, the silhouette of the Church, crenellations, a car door slams somewhere in the village, I saw a lot of dog walkers, walkers, joggers as I arrived but now no one, rural places always go to sleep early, 10 is the cut off time here, it’s 9:30 in Sudbury, now I’m almost unable to see what I am writing, Constable’s parents are buried just over there, it appears that time moves more slowly in quiet places but that’s not the case, that moth drawn to the recorder lights is moving in real time, someone with a torch, a flashing red light passing by on the road but I am unable to see what it is attached to, I’m having to be extra quiet with my movements and have definitely worn the correct clothing.

More here

Magpies call and respond, Moorhen, Mallards sleeping on the paving slabs, someone in the cafe already to set up for the day, no cars or jets, only tinnitus, I stay very still to encourage a Magpie to get closer which it does for a while but then flies over to Lock Island, one of the Mallards flies away, the Magpie comes back, a Squirrel comes by very close on the ground, inquisitive, and for millions of years I like to think that it was quiet, everywhere existed without explanation, water flowed downstream, reeds grew, habitats formed, species evolved. And then came people shouting at dogs and slamming gates, the cakes were delivered by a man in a truck, shareholders made a profit, Mallards moved in to the grass to preen and coat their feathers with oil, Squirrels squirrelling, Robin surveying it’s territory, a fly investigates the grains of wood on the table, distant Geese sound upset about something, I need to do more of this basking in the morning sun, a man on an electric scooter wearing a crash helmet, everything is growing imperceptibly slowly, a Bluebottle on my knee, now four Magpies investigating the grass, some white and grey clouds appear from the west and block out the warmth of the sun, a noisy maintenance van driving faster than the time I got told off for driving too fast down Flatford Road, a stack of correctly stored pallets, the Robin perched on top of the parasol, a maintenance man in hi-vis crosses the bridge to collect all of the bagged dog poo and replace the bin liner, a Cuckoo, an alarm on the Granary going off, a lady carrying empty cardboard boxes, two Crows join the exploration of the grass, they ignore the mic and camera tripods, a small black and white moth on my arm, a man with a red t-shirt walking towards the Granary, two men stop for a chat in the lane, a Pied Wagtail. As this was an early morning recording there was a lot of bird sound, in addition to the above, Cuckoo, Goldcrest, Garden Warbler, Mistle Thrush, Marsh Warbler, Greenfinch, Canada Goose, Willow Warbler, Coal Tit, Song Thrush, Dunnock, Chiffchaff, Collared Dove, Blackbird, Goldfinch, Wren, Great Tit, Blue Tit, Woodpigeon, Jackdaw and Blackcap.

Thanks to Old Hall’s Dave Hodgson for making possible the chance to have an event in the Chapel and to be able to make a recording in the grounds. Three men tasked with chopping the firewood, the threat of rain was hollow, and the sun has come out, a man driving the tractor, a Massey Ferguson 675, the wind gentler than last week but still bit gusty, children playing on the trampoline, the man on the tractor setting it up to chop some wood, all hands on deck to make the firewood the right size for its various uses, jackdaws congregating in the big gnarly tree above the lumberjacks, blue and white flowering Nettles, Comfrey on a big patch under the holly tree, all four men chopping the wood working in dependently, man vs wood, blade vs bark, the wood of the axe shaft a traitor? Or forced in to labour against its own kind, no choice in the matter, wood the rarest material in the universe, and one of the most useful, one man visited by a woman and then they both leave and head towards the Hall, a man in a wooly hat walking past whilst looking at the lumberjacks, technique is more important than strength, tractor is stronger than tecnique, the man with glasses walks away from the pile, two remaining men carry on, a man with a pony tail walks past with a watering can, a cold breeze arrives with a large cloud, a Sparrow inspecting the wood pile left by the man with the glasses, a couple with shoulder bags walk past, a silver car drives past, similar to the recording made near Gandish Road a few gusts start to appear near to the end of the recording, an hour seems like an awkwardly long time whilst in someone else’s domain as somewhat of an imposition even with a welcome from one of the community, would Constable have been ignored by the public whenever he was working in the field? The tractor stops and the man operating takes his ear defenders off, now I can hear the sound of children playing and more details of the wind in the trees, you could say that because more os the recording is full up with tractor engine that the visit was poorly timed but I accept that my experience is what happens whenever I am wherever, but I let the recording run on a little bit extra to see if I can get a nice excerpt sans combustion engine, thankfully I had a wee before the recording, Dave is coming back and gives me a wave, the bag couple comeback up the lane.

The forecast was for rain all day but after a period of a few hours with none I headed to Flatford. The clouds are great today and much more Constablesque with a wide variety of greys and shapes. As I was setting up there was some great interaction between some Song Thrushes, and some juvenile Moorhens on the water. Some sightseers taking their photo with the Mill in the background, a Song Thrush again, a lady going past on her mobility scooter, restarting the recording because my alarm went off loudly and stopped the recording! Weird as I thought that the sound must have been coming from someone else’s phone before I realised it was from mine! Bees in the Comfrey, a Cuckoo, a couple take a photo, ask me what I was recording and then left straight away, then they came back and asked me if they could see Willy Lott’s House from this side of the river, a short rain shower with large drops, so I protect my kit with my cap and a cloth (well prepared!), a lad walking by with his hands in his pockets, the birds stopped singing after the ran, thunder, and now a Blackbird, the Cuckoo again as the wind picks up, the feeling that it’s going to lash it down, a man with 2 black Labradors walking past whilst looking at his phone the whole time, a hoverfly by the mic, a Moorhen, precipitation being blow from the willow trees above me, I’m on the edge of my seat with anticipation as the wind gusts and the thunder rolls around but the rain holds off, there are no hoards of tourists now as there were last week in the blazing sunshine (so I heard on various platforms), just crows, the storm is moving northward, swathes of cloud, gusts of wind bending the trees, pockets of blue sky now appear between the cloud, lightning to the west, ten seconds away, a Mallard on the mill pond, small spits of rain return as a man power walks past, we exchange nods, a man smoking a cigarette at the back of the Field Studies Centre looking over curiously, the same building that they said was out of bounds and as such I couldn’t record from there, wind ripples and rain drops on the water surface, three Magpies landing on the path to forage, there is two minutes to go until the hour is up and the rain is getting heavier, a jogger, the Mallard lands on the wall and stretches out its wings, several times, still some distant thunder and gusts in the trees but fading now, the Magpies chatter in the trees, the Cuckoo returns.

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 painter Simon Carter at his studio in Frinton-on-Sea in Essex. We discuss a variety of topics including the Essex landscape, repetition in walking and music, abstract works, and of course, Constable.

It’s 26º and a half term which of course I could never have predicted when I put this date in the calendar in January, the leisure class are out in full effect, a carousel and a Thomas train ride for the kids, a man setting up deck chairs for hire, a couple having a heavy conversation, gulls, a man having a loud conversation on his phone ‘Yeah, I had a good nights sleep!’, a woman in sandals walking on the gravel beach, a jet ski heading west, a light aircraft heading east, a family man staring at me for an unhealthily long time, messages from work colleagues, screams from the rollercoaster on the pier, it’s hard to relax in to the moment with so many people around, I’m constantly looking out of my peripheral vision for potential encounters, the carousel playing ‘Hokey Cokey’, a paddle boarder, an open top bus, people on a double sea kayak slightly out of sync with their paddle strokes, a man that is ‘curious’ takes a CA card and then apologises for farting before walking off, a sight seeing boat full of people going dangerously close to the kayak and making it bob up and down in the wake, a large waft of herbage, a large waft of waffles, squeaky flip flops, four girls walking either side of the microphone, four boys walking to one side of the microphone, ‘Rocking All Over The World’, someone with a heavy foot driving a sports car, a group of teenagers with a boom box, an Enforcement Officer, a lady looking out to sea.

I was flying to Guernsey with a guy called Steve to do some work for a furniture company but arrived at Gatwick just as the flight was taking off. We had to phone the boss to say that we'd missed the flight. He was livid but organised to get us on to the next available flight which was in 8 hours time. He had to wait in Guernsey with a van full of £3000 wardrobes and angry customers, whilst we waited in Gatwick for the next flight. I whiled away the time by making recordings and writing poetry.

Myself and Matt Shenton headed down to Flatford in the pitch black at 4am to set up fr the annual Reveil Dawn Chorus Global Stream, light came quickly and stealthily once it started, as did the birds, many birds were heard and seen including a Kingfisher, the Merlin bird app detected a Curlew but we were so sure about that, and then came colour, and then the coffee and croissants, I was woefully underprepared. Off-peak the natural world carries on regardless of our observations, the gates to the Car Park open in a few hours and the joggers and dog walkers are not out yet, we all have our motivations for getting out of doors, of bed. The white noise of the Mill Race a constant, last nights rain almost a run away or evaporated, Blackcap and Mistle Thrush, Goldfinch and Wren, might have a renaissance as the geopolitical outlook is looking particularly grim and dangerous, if civilisation implodes it should hand the baton of dominance back to the birds, I doubt they’ll be singing our song in the future, a very small spider like the kind that used to frequent wooden windowsills in the 90’s crawls around my cuff, and then inside it, moments later it has decided that wasn’t a good idea so it crawls back out again and up my arm towards my collar. I stop writing to just sit and listen for the last half an hour. On my walk back to the car I see a lady jogging with a large dog, and two ladies that have opened the gate to the car park. ‘Morning!’

The two benches that I was planning on using were taken but further along was an empty one, which was closer to a slight ledge on the hill that was actually in a great place as I wasn’t in danger of filming any members of the public at close proximity, like that boy on a bicycle last time, there was also man having a loud aggressive phone call. A Chiffchaff competes with the traffic, wide tyres on tarmac and cobbles, early afternoon midweek spring sunshine vibes, Parakeets make it unmistakably London, and the jets are much lower than in Essex or Suffolk, large Tortoiseshell butterfly flits around the microphone, I’m recording at the wrong time of year to properly represent the painting as it depicts a September scene, Magpies frequent Branch Hill Pond at the bottom of the hill, Cherry blossom and fresh green leaves, a cement mixer powers up West Heath Road, it’s difficult to relax with so many passers by, a wood pigeon flies up the hill, a small spider crawls along the dry mud, a low jet climbs from LHR and banks to the north, quite a lot of bees and wasps as the temperature is well above 10ºC, a mum and boy with a plastic spade sticking out the top of their back pack, a pale yellow Brimstone butterfly, a skip lorry bumps up the hill, keeping my headphones on as a deterrent, a beautiful red dog taking an interest in the mic but then sitting next to the bench, and then it’s owner sitting on the bench, a pug with a diamond collar shining in the sunlight, the dog squeaking its ball, it’s other owner talking to his companion in French and the dog in English, a Jewish man kicking the ball back to the dog, a Police siren, I notice that the dog has an Apple AirTag, the man walking to the bottom of the hill and unsuccessfully calling the dog down to him, the lady has a chat to two lads with a bicycle and a film camera, their names are Judith and Astra, two ducks on the pond, after the boys go we sit in an awkward silence, a hoverfly, a small plane making a loud drone, the French speaking man with his top off in the sun. I’m quite happy not talking to anyone about my activities and the enforced silence helps me to keep that state, there is a time and a place and in the middle of a recording is not it, obviously no one else knows what I’m doing or my reasons for my choices, a shiny black/green beetle going about its day, a lady on the phone taking an interest in the mic but then continuing on her walk, lots of bird action including Wren, Robin, Blue Tit, Blackcap, Crow, Goldfinch and Blackbird. A tall couple with back packs, a man walking a Spaniel, a bee on the floor investigating a cigarette butt, a police van, two lads with coats wrapped around their back packs, an ant on the bench, my internal clock timing in at 54 minutes (I should just wait for the headphone beep), the ant n my shorts now so I need to move carefully, the shadow of a jet passing over this exact spot, an illegible memorial on the bench, that strange patch that I had on my arm for about 6 months is now healing up, two ladies on the other bench laughing, the headphone beep.