Recordings of John Constable's landscape or discussions about it.

Constable Ambisonic

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 artist and printmaker David Stone at the Cuckoo Farm Print Workshop, Colchester. We discuss a variety of topics including Romanticism, Capability Brown, Helen Allingham, Turner, JS Lowry and of course, Constable.

Constable Ambisonic - Perception of Landscape with David Stone

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 my mum, Terri Bowditch to try to understand how we came to live in the semi-rural town Essex market town, and how that affected my life growing up in the 1970's and 80's, in comparison to North West London where they had moved from.

Constable Ambisonic - Perception of Landscape with Terri Bowditch

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.

Full version now on Youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yxmbopr_7Y


Willy Lott's Cottage - 6th September 2025 (excerpt)

Sunday morning in town, its a bit breezy, people making the shortcut through the graveyard, a flock of pigeons or Rock Doves as they used to be called, air con units, aircraft heading away from London, a lady whose perfume I detected before I saw her, I feel like I have to behave differently in this urban environment as I can’t blend in to being a tourist, I’m more on guard, a man asking if he was in my way, I wave him through, people aren’t here to look at the attraction they’re on their way to somewhere else so why would I be sitting in a graveyard with a lot of recording kit on a Sunday morning feeling vulnerable? The concerned man walks back through the other way with a drink less concerned this time, a car with loud music travelling down Queen Street, a gull, a man sneezing, ‘Morning!’ said a man who took a photograph of the ruins, and exclaiming child in a push chair.

It’s warm on the outside, warm on the in, I can feel the effects of my (non-psychedelic) mushroom gummy, my 21st day of sobriety, I made it to 47 days last time so let’s see how I get on, I do have more clarity but I also feel slightly removed from some situations, its a new feeling as I take a step in to the next stage of my life, leaving a lot of things behind, embracing the new, and trying to be kinder to myself, a Robin, a man running, a woman on a phone call, the Rock Doves taking to the air and flying past the microphone, someone clapping, the shadows moving slowly but perceptibly, dapples, gravestones with names eroded away over time, a lady with a Nirvana t-shirt, I’m writing more today as I have my head down as a defence mechanism, not wanting to engage with passers by, the wind has died down a bit but I only notice as it picks up and moves the trees, a lady in her Sunday best, the fragrance of a woman after I have seen her, a man with a hand in his pocket, the Robin again, I need to take some tips from this experience as I’ll be recording in Ipswich Town Centre soon where I imagine there will be lots of passers by, I have done lots of urban recording before but not with film, and not for as long durations, Church bells but from further away than St.Botolphs, a motorbike, the Church bell of St.Botolphs, nearer with longer intervals whilst the further faster bells still play, here it sounds like a ‘Campanology Course for People with No Sense of Timing’, a Jay, a cough, curious children, a man with crocs who says ‘Allo mate!’ but wasn’t talking to me, people wearing all black even though it is still really summery, a man with a striped t-shirt, a woman with a spotty dress, at first it was interesting that the soundscape was punctuated with a bell nearby and somewhat haphazard but now it’s annoying that they haven’t got any better and it hasn’t formed in to a one note polyrhythmic masterpiece, the Robin’s warning call, some lads being laddish, a woman with blue hair. 

Piece of Paper
Under the arch 
Sheltering
Then after 10 minutes
Wheels across the path to the grass
Someone let it go without screwing it up
Which is rare
Gave it a chance to leave
To go on its own
To seek sanctuary
Within the confines of wherever the wind takes it
We could all learn a lesson from that.

St.Botolph's, Colchester - 7th September 2025 (excerpt)

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 https://youtu.be/clQXSbnL3DY

Dedham Lock and Mill - 12th September 2025 (excerpt)

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.

Hampstead Heath looking towards Harrow - 27th September 2025 (excerpt)

Stuart’s work is inspired by location and the people, experiences and objects he encounters there. 

He is particularly interested in sounds that are associated with place, overlooked and overheard noises of the everyday and highlighting the auditory as a defining factor in how we experience a particular environment. 
​
His recordings of people, their activities, experiences and environs have contributed to art installations, phone apps, archival records, dance performances, public consultation events, musical compositions, a computer game, a eulogy and sound tracks to short films.

Hampstead Heath looking towards Harrow - 27th September 2025 (excerpt)

Stuart Bowditch