A Concert Underground

Going Underground! Cathal McConnell about to begin his performance at Marble Arch Caves. [c. Ronan McGrade Photography / Cuilcagh to Cleenish]

Going Underground! Cathal McConnell about to begin his performance at Marble Arch Caves. [c. Ronan McGrade Photography / Cuilcagh to Cleenish]

Two years and one pandemic ago I was approached to record a unique concert in County Fermanagh. Organised by the Cuilcagh to Cleenish heritage project to showcase the music and culture of these water-logged lands, Going Underground! took place in September 2019. The chosen venue was the atmospheric water-carved chambers of Marble Arch Caves, part of the wider UNESCO Global Geopark, our local nature gem here in Fermanagh and Cavan. The challenge involved recording several musical performances and spoken voice, at various locations along the cave system, with a free-moving audience, and a potentially flooded river - after all this is Ireland and rainfall is almost written in law.

Acoustically these natural halls are a delight, except for the one big elephant in the room, you might have guessed it: water. Masses and masses of water sink through the limestone from three different rivers into the cave system. When the flow is low, the noise of the water is akin to a trickle. When the flow is high however, it turns into white noise, our most pervasive enemy as sound recordists, as it covers the entire human audible range. And if the flow is very high some chambers flood and the caves close to the public.

The week of the concert we had copious amounts of rain, and there were talks of cancelling the concert. But we went ahead; after all, if it wasn’t for water none of this (none of us!) would be here. So we embraced it and what a night it was. My favourite aspect of the night, aside from the setting and the challenge it posed as a sound recordist, was to see so many community members, all gathered to enjoy a special evening listening to music; listening to their music.

There was also spoken word, tea, cake, and a wider sense of discovery as the audience moved in small groups around the different chambers, following the sounds. Here is Séamas McCanny setting the tone at the entrance gates:

After Séamas’ dark stories, the crowds were then lead inside the cave in small groups to listen to a talented roster of musicians spanning all generations, including: Cathal McConnell, Shauneen Maguire, The Tumbling Paddies, Ancient Music Ireland, Mullaghy Flute band, The Owens Sisters and Tommy Owens and Eugene Dolan.

Onto the geeky technical part.

In order to cover all the performances in the given time I used what I would decribe as a combination of field recording and live gig recording techniques. Each performer would play to a given group, and I had to hop between groups, usually arriving before a group settled and leaving after their departure so as to to reach the following ‘stage’ before the next group’s arrival. There were 5 audience groups and 7 performances inside the cave, plus an 8th one in the cave’s cafeteria. This meant I had to haul a portable rig to capture everything, as well as to find suitable pit stops where I pre-dropped mics and cables to plug into when necessary. Luckily one of the cave guide’s (sorry I cannot remember your name) helped me carry 2 sets of microphone stands along the way. This is the gear I used:

Portable kit

DIY Binaural head (named Aurora) with OKM Classic matched omnidirectional microphones recording onto a Sony PCM-D50 (see picture below).

2x Sennheiser 8040 Cardioid microphones, 1x DPA 4060 omnidorectional microphone, 2x lightweight microphone stands, recording onto Sound Devices 744t recorder though a Sound Devices 552 mixer.

Pre-rigged

Heavy duty microphone stands and Shure SM58s and SM57s. These were placed mid-way through the route, coinciding with the biggest group of performers (The Tumbling Paddies) for which I needed that extra number of channels. Their location was quite tricky as there was a lot of water dripping from the ceiling, which was not only a source of noise but also a risk to the gear. Luckily the Shure dynamic mics are well known for their sturdiness.

Despite the not ideal conditions, it was a one-of-a-kind experience and on the whole we all appreciated the results. You can listen to the full concert playlist here, hopefully you will get a feeling of what a great evening was had. Personally, I am grateful to have been given the chance to play a small part in preserving the local acoustic heritage, which is what Sound Ark is all about.

My thanks to Cuilcagh to Cleenish, the performers, the audience, and the Marble Arch Caves staff. Thank you for reading.

Pilgrimage of the Peregrines

Pilgrimage of the Peregrings front pic

This week we experienced something beautiful, as a field recordist, as a family and as lovers of nature. If I was a kid it would have remained hetched in my memory forever - and sharing the experience with two of my kids (ages 6 and 2), their uncle and their grandad, is what made it special.

The plan was just to do a morning walk up to some local cliffs were my in-law had eyed a pair of Peregrine Falcons Falco Peregrinus and their chick doing acrobatics. To the seasoned bird watcher or wildlife sound recordist this might not sound as special as I’m making it but having such a spectacle a 3 mile drive plus a 2 mile walk away from home has to be pretty unique.

On our way up we found the remains of two kills, one we guessed from a Pigeon, the other with smaller brownish feathers we are not sure - please leaves us a comment below if you have any suggestions.

When we reached the bottom of the cliff we could only see (and hear) the one falcon chick perched up on a dead conifer in the distance. As we got hypnotised by the constant calling and the birds got used to us being there, one of the parents flew to the perched chick and gave it a firm nudge, as if to push her to get flying.

Soon after and quite dramatically as one of the parents soared past the scrape (their nesting place), two more chicks and the remaining parent suddenly took off racuously. That’s when we realised that the Peregrine had hatched, not one, not two, but three presumably healthy chicks. What ensued was pure reverance for these agile flyers. All of us, big and small, had a grounding moment as we observed what looked like the best flying lessons any bird coud hope for.

For us adults, it was a real privilege to witness such animals in their natural environment and to be able to share a precious memory with the children. My in-law has always had a passion for birds and nature in general. When he was a child he kept an Owl in his room without his parents knowing (I know, different times). So i know this day had a particular resonance with him.

Peregrine Falcon from the Reader’s Digest Book of British Birds (1980)

For the kids it must have been exciting too. Ever since their grandad gifted them a beautiful 1980’s hand-drawn bird book, our children have shown an insatiable interest for birds. We have enjoyed learning about our local visitors such as Blue Tits, Robins, Swallows and Starlings (more colonisers than visitors these last ones!). But their personal favourites are the Long-eared Owl, the Golden Eagle and... the Peregrine Falcon, because it’s the fastest member of the Animal Kingdom. So for them, especially for the eldest who was more aware of it all, it was one mindful event.

From a Field Recording point of view, the conditions were near excellent; light breeze, a good distance from human hustle, and the rugged cliffs acting as a natural amphitheatre, enveloping the birds’ screeching calls.

I believe the experience it marked us all positively in many, sometimes crossing, ways. And I know that because there was silence, even from our sonourous two-year old. What started as a possible plan to occupy the morning ended up being a vintage day out. As my in-law put it, this is wild nature at its very best. To which I will add: right on our doorstep.

Ireland is noticeably quieter on Sunday mornings - hallelujah! - so I was back at the location early on Sunday to get a cleaner recording, which I did, but the Peregrine family fell silent an hour or so after my arrival. I saw one of them fly off into the valley to the farmlands, so I presume it was hunting time. Mind you the rest (or all for that matter) might have still be lurking quietly on the rocks as their plumage mimetises so perfectly with the colour of the cliffs. In any case, the intensity of the display was nothing like we experienced on the first visit, which strengthens my view that it really was a special day. I had nonetheless a very special encounter with what I believe was an Irish Hare Lepus Timidus Hibernicus, who kept skipping towards me unaware of my presence. You can see this in the video below (at 4m17).

The plan from now until the juveniles leave and ultimately the pair leave for winter, is to keep going back whenever possible to monitor any developments. I recently joined the Northern Ireland Raptor Study Group as a volunteer so I will be relaying any relevant information to them. From a Field Recording point of view my aim is to get more call variations, and closer recordings. For the latter I will pursue a license and seek expertise from the Wildlife Sound Recording Society on how to approach what seems unapproachable. From a visual entertainment point of view, I dream of seeing a live kill in mid air.

Ultimately, if it was not clear enough, I am delighted that the experience has triggered such a powerful response in the children, for to value nature is one of the positive gains in life.

The pilgrimage will go on.

The Outer Hebrides and other Hydrophone News

Recording a close perspective on one of Julie Brook's Firestacks. (© 2017 Julie Brook)

Recording a close perspective on one of Julie Brook's Firestacks. (© 2017 Julie Brook)

Its been a year since our first trip to the Outer Hebrides in the Winter of 2017, where we recorded the sounds of Julie Brook's fascinating Firestacks. Six months later in the Summer of 2017, we were lucky enough to revisit this stunning corner of the world, on a follow-up assignment; this is a brief account of the experience.

Waiting for a boat ride to complete the last leg of travels to reach the work location.

Waiting for a boat ride to complete the last leg of travels to reach the work location.

The main focus of these field recording trips is to document the life-cycle of the Firestack; from building, to firing, to extinction, as well as its environment. An important perspective that Julie has always been keen on capturing is the underwater one - what does it sound like under the surface when the tidal waves engulf the Firestacks?

On the first trip we had the privilege to work with a pair of Ambient ASF-1 Hydrophones, which we absolutely loved. The second time round we used a H27S Stereo Hydophone from Monkey Sound - an artisan contact mics manufacturer based in Spain - as well as our old faithful JrF D-Series Hydrophones. The H27S caught our attention because it comes in one casing. Given the rough seas we faced the first time round, it seemed like a practical feature in terms of retrieving the mic planted in the Firestack after the tide has covered it (Firestacks are around 1.5 meters tall at their highest point). These clips give you an idea of the colour and stereo field of this neat, relatively new, hydro-mic on the market.

You can download longer versions of these recordings here (free to use under the Sound Ark License Agreement).

Here's a few more sights and sounds we recorded - hope you enjoy them on your device as much as we enjoyed them in the field.

These are cold long days in a remote bay on the Western-most part of Lewis, and that's what makes it so special. There is practically no shelter, the nature is bare and the exposure to the elements constant. There is virtually no noise pollution, very little chatting between the crew and so the day becomes mostly a long introspective moment. It's a positive experience - you are immersed in the surroundings, constantly active, albeit completely still a lot of the time. The hours fly and before you know it (plus a 40-minute hike) you are back at the bothy, lighting the fire and regaining your extrovert self with the help of a dram of Scotch whisky.

Without a doubt one of the most inspiring assignments we have had the pleasure to work on so far, looking forward to round 3!

What's the most inspirational recording or filming location you have worked in? We'd love to hear your stories, especially if the location was free from noise pollution or on the contrary extremely noisy - you can leave us a comment below.

Praises to the D50

The other day I heard a robin tweeting away on the studio's front patio and so I planted my Sony D50 recorder as gently as possible in an attempt to record it. Of course, i scared him (her?) straight off but I thought that if I left the recorder in place for a while he might come back. I shut the sliding door and carried on with the day...

Two days later, as we were gearing up to go on a family stroll to the local hills I remembered about poor old D50. There it was, still on the patio, unmoved, still waiting for the robin to come back. With my eyes closed I switched it on, fearing for the worst. When i re-opened them it turned out the memory was full and there was still one bar of battery (albeit blinking). Hurrah! She was still alive! I downloaded the files onto the computer but there was no time to check if the unit was working properly so I took some fresh batteries and left for our walk in the hills. 

I'm very (very!) happy to say that the Sony D50 worked perfectly. Here's a recording of a leaves rustling to a subtle breeze in the hills.

The D50 had survived two nights out there. Luckily it has been the one and only week in the year where we have had no rain, I'm not even exaggerating, but still Ireland's autumn nights are very damp. I've carried this recorder around the world for more than 5 years and it has always delivered. It has overcome tank pass by splashes in England's wet winters, a year of 100% humidity conditions in tropical Sri Lanka, sub-zero temperatures in the Swiss Alpes, scorching 45+ degrees in the Andalusian summer, sand storms in Xinjiang's Taklamakan desert and torrential downpours in smoggy Beijing. The batteries (4x AAs) always last more than you expect them to, and the quality of the recordings is far above decent. 

All my respects to this little recorder, probably the best of its class.

To finish off here's a recording of another group of patio visitors, taken that same day.


Do you have a piece of kit that has survived the odds? Let us know below. Have a great week!

Lets Get Festive

A Christmas Carol 1938

What does Christmas sound like in your house? With a new addition to the family and all, this year has been a particular opportunity for me to take time out of any intensive projects. After what feels like a massively jam-packed year, I've really enjoyed sitting back and watching the festivities go on around me. I'm not hugely into the holidays, but the older I get the more I feel comfortable with it. I think most of us reject the need for a materialistic few weeks, rammed full of gadgets and Boxing Day sales. But I wouldn't say no to a real tree, more time for old movie watching and an excuse to get stocked up with brandy.

Here's a mash-up of what Christmas sounds like in our house...

Hope everyone really enjoys the week with the people that matter. Here's what we're planning to watch...