Composer's Notes -

by Robert Lee

 

autochthonous

[aw-tok-thuh-nuh s]

adjective

 

1. pertaining to autochthons; aboriginal; indigenous (opposed to heterochthonous ).

2. Pathology.

• found in the part of the body in which it originates, as a cancerous lesion.

• found in a locality in which it originates, as an infectious disease.

3. Psychology. of or pertaining to ideas that arise independently of the individual's own train of thought and seem instead to have some alien or external agency as their source.

4. Geology. (of rocks, minerals, etc.) formed in the region where found.

 

My starting point, as composer for the Ear Trumpet project, was the story of the Bincombe Bumps. As John Symonds Udal writes in his book, Dorsetshire Folk-lore:

 

The late Mr.Charles Warne F.S.A. in his Celtic Tumuli of Dorset (1866) states that "on Bincombe Down there is a 'Music Barrow' of which the rustics say that if the ear be laid close to the apex at midday the sweetest melody will be heard within."

 

If similar events were to occur at Little Bredy, what sounds might one expect? I thought it might be interesting to imagine a version of reality here, that might describe and allow for, in faux-rationalist terms, a wide array of subterranean sonic phenomena:

 

It was noticed that there were sounds coming from the ground and others were told, until the phenomenon came to the attention of scientists...

 

There is any number of distinct aural emanations - all different, but identifiable, like the bubbles in geysers - or snowflakes. No one knows exactly where they will appear, although the epicentre has been identified. They may only last a few seconds, although some last for days/weeks. They may have been going on, sporadically, for thousands of years.

 

It is a natural phenomenon - that which has been absorbed (over 4.5 billion years) is exuded. It's not a unique site. Different types of energy/vibration are preserved, as tremors are seen to be preserved in magma. More recent energies - of the human era - manifest more abundantly, from the fuzzy early days of settlement to the more recent history of Little Bredy...church...cars.. radio/tv...lovers' trysts...civil war - but these emanations are somehow superficial, like static...if you draw back in perspective you may perceive larger more profound geological harmonics.

 



Composer's Notes -

by Robert Lee


My starting point, as composer for the Ear Trumpet project, was the story of the Bincombe Bumps. As John Symonds Udal writes in his book, Dorsetshire Folk-lore:

 

The late Mr.Charles Warne F.S.A. in his Celtic Tumuli of Dorset (1866) states that "on Bincombe Down there is a 'Music Barrow' of which the rustics say that if the ear be laid close to the apex at midday the sweetest melody will be heard within."

 

If similar events were to occur at Little Bredy, what sounds might one expect? I thought it might be interesting to imagine a version of reality here, that might describe and allow for, in faux-rationalist terms, a wide array of subterranean sonic phenomena:

 

It was noticed that there were sounds coming from the ground and others were told, until the phenomenon came to the attention of scientists...

 

There is any number of distinct aural emanations - all different, but identifiable, like the bubbles in geysers - or snowflakes. No one knows exactly where they will appear, although the epicentre has been identified. They may only last a few seconds, although some last for days/weeks. They may have been going on, sporadically, for thousands of years.

 

It is a natural phenomenon - that which has been absorbed (over 4.5 billion years) is exuded. It's not a unique site. Different types of energy/vibration are preserved, as tremors are seen to be preserved in magma. More recent energies - of the human era - manifest more abundantly, from the fuzzy early days of settlement to the more recent history of Little Bredy...church...cars.. radio/tv...lovers' trysts...civil war - but these emanations are somehow superficial, like static...if you draw back in perspective you may perceive larger more profound geological harmonics.


It might all stop at any minute. There is something generative about the phenomenon. We don't just hear actual sounds from the past played back. Is it possible that there is something that might be analogous to an intelligence in the land itself? Emanations clearly are filtered in some way - it is not necessarily what we might consider to be the most powerful vibrations that are released.

There may be sorts of magnitude that we don't understand. Apparently weak and superficial sounds are heard. If we could capture the entirety of the emanations over time they might prick out the shape of something revealing. In as much as everything heard is an expression of the same phenomenon, emanations can be heard meaningfully together. If you could capture all the emanations and play them together, what might be heard through the din?

 

With this imaginitve background in place, I was able to start thinking about actual sound.

 

My main thoughts were:

 

1) that some of the emanations needed to be able to answer to the idea that "the sweetest melody will be heard within".

 

2) that emanations would be imaginatively be expressions of the immediate locality of Little Bredy.

 

3) that traditional compositional structures of beginning, middle and end, would not be applicable, as, in faux-scientific terms, the emanations are in some sense, random, and not the work of a creative ego. On a more pragmatic level, the point at which listeners start and stop listening could not be determined in advance.

 

4) the extremely limited volume level of these subterranean sounds would have implications for what effects could or should be attempted.

 

Below, I list some of my solutions to these considerations. All this sound comes from the ground below.

 

The Church of St.Michael and All Angels, Littlebredy, just next to the epicentre of this event, seemed an atmospheric and aurally rich environment, with a long history. Long enough for autocthonus events to emerge, perhaps. With this in mind I used a relatively simple six-bell peal, Plain Bob, played on a harp, and recorded in the church. On top of this, the church's wonderful organ is heard playing a transliteration of the phrase  "St.Michael and All Angels, Littlebredy" apportioned to the same six notes as the bells.

 

In the terms of William Paley, this may be evidence of an ahuman intelligence...William Knapp 1698-1768 from West Dorset, was a composer in the country psalmody tradition and is most famous for the very popular tune Wareham. It's highly likely that this 'hymn' was sung for many years - centuries - in Littlebredy's church. I have recorded it with the traditional instruments and set it with snatches of an imagined sermon that places a West Dorset orchard, with its many unique varieties of apple, in the Garden of Eden. Reception is sporadic, and there is seismic interference and radio interference from different epochs (whatever was received from the airwaves around Littlebredy on the day of recording!).

 

Of course, the area of the South Dorset Ridgeway has been inhabited continuosly for many millenia - it would be natural to expect that music might emanate from very early human times. To this end, I've had fun, imagining what certain ancient music might sound like, with the help of voices - and a reconstruction of a genuine paleolithic whistle.

In a way, the making of "the sweetest" melodies is one of the more easily realisable goals. I have, though, set these in distinct times and locations, such as a parlour with a grandfather clock, to distance myself as an ego/composer from the listener. There's a certain circularity to these pieces.

 

I've also had fun imagining crossed wires in the release of this audio material from the ground. An english lady has a baffling conversation on the telephone, while a dinosaur may be heard on the party-line. Ice-cream vans from the future play William Knapp's psalmodies again. The Cholmondleys can't make it to dinner but the Vikings are coming.

 

And then there's the Civil War.

 

The way tremors, vibrations, and interference patterns, may be recorded in magma, seems to me interestingly similar to the way sound is preserved on a record, and a resonant idea in the context of this false narrative. I have expressed something of this, whilst evoking some of the atmosphere that comes with legends of things under-the-hill, by taking a lilting harp phrase and laying a slightly longer version of itself on top, a la Steve Reich, so revealing permutations of interference that pleasantly resolve occasionally. You can hear someone, or something, snoring somewhere down there, too. In other places, the sound of a badly vibrating tap, that was recorded locally, is stretched, compressed, and laid multiple times on itself to conjure landscapes - of tectonic proportions!

 

I have also tried to bring to this earth, something of an atmosphere of the geological landscape around Littlebredy. To this end I have come up with a high-modernist flight of fancy, for viola and oboe, (and crows) recorded in St.Michael and All Angels and purporting to be the incidental music of a nineteen-seventies children's drama entitled Valley of the Stones. What you hear is from Episode Four...

 

So, these are descriptions of just some of the 'emanations' you might hear vibrating out of Littlebredy in Ear Trumpet. There are more. In fact at the time of writing we don't really know how many more there will be, bubbling up out of the ground, and into the air, at times. That seems fitting, somehow. 

 

Robert Lee

September 2014

http://www.dibdibdub.com/

 

 

 

Recorded music and sound performed by:

 

Oboe, harp, paleolithic whistle, violin: Jane Saunders

Viola: Francis Saunders

Recorder consort leader: Emma McEvoy

Voice: May McEvoy

Voice, mandolin: David Squirrell

Voice, shuttlecock: Lorna Rees

Organ, piano, paleolithic whistle, cello, musical box, guitar: Robert Lee