Visit to a local cab and bottle recycling plant in Reykjavik with some random thoughts. Recording with the MKH416 and LOM geofon I venture into a soundscape of cacophony.
Insert Sound of sober sewing machines
Short wander around with my Geofon led me to the flea market and from there to a museum of old sewing machines. Thoughts on card file management, being drunk or sober, doors of perception and little else for now.
Insert Sound of A.OK.UK
Late night 10 minute ramble before presenting a tiny fraction of the recordings I did Oct/Nov while staying in the UK. Leeds, Edinburgh, Glasgow sound in no unified order. Lesson is that walking for 5 hours a day carrying a mixpre 6 in a shoulder bag (inconspicuous 10 $ second hand book bag) for days on end will affect your lower bag. As with the other 20 cities I have visited around the world, recording sounds for possible radio shows, I end up with a lot of traffic. Glad to be back to making shows though this is no hallmark of quality episode. Just needed to get back into the rhythm, so there you go. Much more to come :)
Insert Sound of droning
Introducing my newest addition to the small arsenal of microphones in this last Iceland based episode, for a while. The LOM geofon, a highly sensitive contact mic, has opened up a new dimension in sound recordings. In this episode I begin the exploration that sometimes feels like an hallucination of another dimension, distorted but clear in its own terms. For future episodes, I will recording in the UK, exploring, learning, experimenting and sharing the results, including lots of Geofon-ic sounds :)
Insert Sound of birds on the coast of my ancestors (S3E1)
A long recording of ocean and birds from the farm my greatgreat grandfather was from. Thoughts about the sounds of then and now, the constants and the changes in any place. Looking at old photos of a time before machines arrived, when the sound of the Eider ducks, the Arctic tern, the Black Guillemot and the Oystercatcher, all heard here, formed the steady soundtrack to life on the farm in summer. Recorded in May of 2021.
Insert leftover sound of season 1 and 2
We wrap up season 2 of Insert Sound by pulling up some unused and until now unheard sounds from the archives. Airplanes, Kins Place, presidents place, a river, a waterfall, an ocean, an old man with a shovel and few other soundscapes await anyone willing to listen.
Insert Sound of exploding water
Me and my friend and sound recordist Buzby go on a sound recording mission to the forefather of all geysers on earth. On a windless day at Icelands erupting hot springs, we set up shop in front of Strokkur. An explosive day to say the least!
Link to Buzby´s work https://soundcloud.com/hidd3nsound
Insert Sound of DIY rain roof (S2 E12)
On a rainy morning at the cabin I set out to make a rain shelter in order to be able to record the unusual flow of the creek, following massive rains. DIY project using plastic tubes, wire mesh and a woollen scarf.
Insert Sound of a distant reality at Victoria Station
A year back I was in London, in love, as I still am, but in a very different reality, like all of us. Looking back, it was the edge of a cliff we have now jumped off in so many ways. This short episode combines a stereo recording of Victoria Station in London with some personal thoughts.
Insert Sound of love of sound
A trip down lovers lane, from one sound recorder/mic to the next, until we reach the newest and best love if measured in quality! A monumental step up with a new investment, weirdly conflated with actual love, but not that far off actually.
Insert Sound from mini disc-The origin story, part 1
A mini disc recording from 2008 reveals what might be among the first field recordings I did. At least among the first, as the second hand (and by then outdated) mini disc was my first sound recorder. In this 2 part series we will hear sounds from Harajuku, Yoyogi park and Shibuya.
Insert Sound of container lot in a strong NE
A morning photo excursion leads to a discovery of container storage lot where the wind, metal and plastic coexist in a beautiful symphony. Rough takes and unscripted narration seemed in order for this episode, recorded on Jan 24, 2021, outside Reykjavík, Iceland.
Insert Sound of Fuglavík (Bird Cove)
The episode keeps alive a promise made to a research station manager in spring 2020. Though not a radio show (yet) about the impact of Covid 19 on international research station collaborations and scientific work, it does bring alive the subjects researched at the Sudurnes Science and learning center. Insert sounds of birds en masse!
Insert Sound of cabin creaking
Short and simple. SW storm at the cabin while reading Lord of the Rings. Enter into your own storm scenario during a few minutes of Insert Sound.
Insert Sound of chainsaws
The lack of forests in Iceland means a near non existence of lumberjacks. With the rare sound of chain saws on a spring day, I hit record.
Insert Sound of ink on paper
During early Covid days I was kindly allowed access to a large printing press in Iceland, free to roam the factory like building and record sounds. The sounds heard belong to a family of mechanical sounds, having evolved from the first printing presses, to the modern day metal giants of the printed word, capable of changing the course of history.
Insert Sound of firework hunting
On New Years Eve 2020-2021 I spend the night driving the streets recording the hours of countless explosions. This tradition of anyone being able to buy and set off fireworks the whole night long makes the evening a feast for sound recording, though with its own set of luxury problems for a sound recordist.
Insert Sound of shotgun by the river
In this first episode of season 2 of Insert Sound, I take the Rode NTG3 shotgun mic down to a river by my cabin, get distracted by ideas of massive documentation projects and drown in a cacophony of ideas and the sound of rushing water.
Insert Sound of Viking battle by river
Recording the sound of a famous river, at the edge of the highlands in the south part of Iceland, turns into an exploration into the secret weapon of an epic Viking battle.
Insert Sound of a late night bird symphony in May
What does a tired, perhaps a bit lazy sound recordist do, when already in bed, sounds of bird singing symphonically outside, catch his sleepy attention? Minor correction in the name of the symphony, which wrongly credits a ptarmigan as performer. I apologise humbly to the Common Snipe, that rare performer who unlike all others, sings mechanically, by air flowing through its tail feather. So while I opened my mouth and out came the wrong name, the Common Snipe sang his beautiful tune, without ever opening its mouth.