Cities and Memory - remixing the world

"I first visited Portland in the early 2000’s, as part of a DIY west coast tour with a band from my, (at the time) home of Brighton UK. "When I saw the option to work with a piece of Portland audio for this project, something resonated, connecting me to the idea of distance between then and now in my own life, and that of my bandmates. That sense of how things move forward, inevitably, but that an aspect can also remain, that can be conjured up, and reconnected with, like a talisman or a map. "Sonically, I was drawn to create a piece consisting of several distinct movements, utilising a broad range of sounds, and a narrative that draws in the listener. I welcomed in happenstance, and several aspects came about by what my former A’level art teacher would refer to as ‘a happy accident’, including some of the vocal work between myself and collaborator Nicky Rushton - these were nice surprises, and I kept them in the final piece. "Elsewhere, I used small sections of the original recording, sometimes rhythmically, others atmospherically, and at others to inform melodic phrasing. "I called the piece ‘Portland dreams’ in reference to the original audio, and in the way that a dream is a kind of memory, but can also be a vision for the future. Portland, or rather, the symbolism of Portland, can still be that place full of possibilities and freedoms I experienced for the first time back then, despite all the many changes in the world and myself since." Portland Memory Den reimagined by Suzi Lamb with Nicky Rushton.

I've always enjoyed Leo Villareal's "Multiverse" (2008) which is located between the East Building and the West Building of the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. The work, made of light-emitting diodes, surrounds you as you are transported via a moving walkway. In the recording, you can hear the sound of people chatting and laughing, (I swear I hear someone happily say "Jamiroquai!" towards the end), heels clacking as some choose to walk instead of using the walkway, and beginning at the eight-minute mark you can hear a child say "wow!" a few times. Their father is holding them in his arms and, as they get near, you can hear him sing the end of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". Recorded by Bill McKenna.

During the Spring Festival, the melodious tunes of traditional Chinese instruments can be heard in many places, serving as festive reminders that it is indeed the time of the Chinese New Year. Recorded by David Ge.

I'm visiting Portland from the UK. The Memory Den is a large warehouse converted to a vintage shopping Mall in the industrial area of Portland, Oregon, close to the Willamette River. Trains hauling a hundred wagons pass along the tracks just meters away from the building. Sounds from outside the building mix with the noises within it. This recording is from inside the Memory Den: a passing train sounds its horn while kids play the basketball shooting machine inside the Mall. They then change focus and play the piano a few meters away. A seamless transition. New industrial train sounds mix with the tones of old vintage items, played now to pass the time on a cold November afternoon. Recorded by Paul Stephens-Wood.

"I used sections of Chinese instruments from the original recording to create the piece. I used samplers to make the drone sounds; stretched the original tracks to make the sound shorter or longer; added big delay, echo and reverb to create the ambience sound." Shanghai spring festival reimagined by Ziyun Lu.

"After selecting a field recording at random, I immediately researched the location… Upon looking at photographs of the location and watching a video of the installation in action…. "I wondered; “what if every one of the 142000 pulsing LEDs in Leo Villareal’s light sculpture ‘Multiverse’ were microphones?” "I then wondered; “what might a field recording sound like if we recorded via these imaginary moving microphones?” "I set about creating the track: I chose three 1 minute sections of the original field recording to provide my source audio … one from the beginning/middle/end. "I looped these three sections of the field recording Each one processed by a different effect that uses a granular synthesis algorithm, creating individual distinct chaotic patterns: "Chopping and rearranging little pieces of the audio, simulating the snippets of sound the imaginary microphones might hear as they twinkle and flow through the subterranean space… "Additional fx channels were used to add some subtle extra depth and texture; these included panning, random gates and glitchy delays and reverbs, all modulated by 6 linked LFOs. - echoing the installation’s constantly evolving waves of lights. "These were then all mixed into the master channel. The track was recorded in one take. Minor compression and EQing for the final track presented here. I hope you enjoy listening as much as I did creating it!" Washington DC multiverse installation reimagined by id_23.

"I chose this soundscape because I wanted to work with sonic elements far removed from what I’m used to hearing. That led me to explore sounds from Japan, and when I came across this recording, it struck me as something special because of its nostalgic quality. Like the person who captured it, I’ve also experienced “last evenings” in the places where I’ve lived. My own feeling isn’t always nostalgia, but rather a kind of emptiness. I wanted to explore that sense of abandonment through this beautiful soundscape of the Yamato River. "In this piece, I processed the alarm sound in several different ways to create drones that helped me evoke the nostalgia and tenderness present in the original recording. I also wanted to complement the river with my own recordings of bodies of water. In that sense, the work functions, for me, both as an emotional cleanse and as a study of water itself." Kashihara city soundscape reimagined by Sara Ramírez Márquez.

"Far deep inside the Amazon, after twelve hours on a canoe through green wilderness and mirrored skies, I arrived at a small indigenous Tikuna settlement nestled beside the river. There, children laughed as they bathed in the water’s bronze light, while their mothers washed clothes by the river, each rhythmic strike against the wood becoming part of the forest’s pulse — a gentle percussion older than language. "From these living sounds, Wëeña Rügaü — Children of the River — was born. A composition woven from field recordings captured in this hidden, timeless place where the world seems to hum with remoteness. The piece unfolded naturally: the recordings became a bed of sound upon which layers of ambient pads from the OP-1 synth floated, diffused through a mood pedal. A kalimba then drifted in and out of the current, its tones dissolving into textures of light and distance as they passed through the Microcosm pedal. "The piece moves like a dream — liquid, translucent, and eternal. It holds within it the memory of a suspended moment: the sun on the river, the echo of laughter, the endless green horizon breathing in rhythm. Recorded within a remote indigenous Tikuna community, this piece carries the shimmer of that living river — where sound becomes both memory and movement. "Wëeña Rügaü is not merely a recording; it is a memory capsule — a sonic offering to the water that carries stories older than words, dedicated to the people who still live within its song." Sao Pedro Tipisca Amazon soundscape reimagined by Rafael Diogo.

By the river’s side in the Amazon, Colombia, the soundscape blends the gentle rush of the water with the rhythmic motion of people washing clothes. Children play joyfully in the river, their laughter and splashes mingling with the natural flow, creating a lively, harmonious atmosphere. Recorded by Rafael Diogo.

"I made a number of live jams over a couple of weeks, each around an hour long, all manipulating a snippet of the recording, with some added synths; the final piece is an edit and amalgamation of two of these. A selection of others can be found at https://dtyb.bandcamp.com/album/warsaw. St. Martin's church, Warsaw reimagined by dtyb.

"When I heard Miyu's recording of cicadas, I was brought back to humid late summers in Japan — where I lived for two years in the mid-aughts — particularly the time around the Obon festival, when, traditionally, the veil between the living and the dead is said to be at its thinnest. "Cicadas, in a synesthetic way to me, are the sound of that veil shaking in a hot breeze, the static cling of the cosmic curtain, and there's a shiver to be savoured hearing them crackle and seethe as you climb the forested steps to the shrine that overlooks your neighborhood and pass through the red torii gate, half-hoping to be transported to some liminal, Twin Peaks by way of Haruki Murakami spirit lodge, but settling contentedly for a choco-banana from a festival vendor before the sweaty walk home." Cicadas in Niigata, Japan reimagined by Casey Broadwater.

"The interface of humans and water is celebrated in the recording and composition. I collected bell sounds from the recorded soundscape, and brought them to the forefront in a reverberant timed and tonal pattern, emphasized with percussive textures, while the original soundscape forms foundation and harmony throughout, ultimately zooming to power and reflection." It-Tlett Ibliet sounds from Malta reimagined by Heather Spence.

"This piece starts with the original recording, which consists of lively, beautiful species. However, as we move forward new, unconventional sounds are introduced. I have been obsessing over sounds, in its raw state, without any acoustic characteristics of a space imbibed in it. I have used a lot of surface recordings done with contact mics. All these are recordings of vibrating surface, which are then EQ'd later to create specific musical chords to introduce a sense of musicality. "For me, this reimagined piece is basically a journey, where the sense of space gets lost gradually as we move our ear from the space to the resonating surface of the space." Farm life in Kerala reimagined by Prabuddha Mukhopadhyay.

Japanese people call the loud cicada sound “Tsukutsukubōshi,” because that’s what it sounds like they’re singing. Don’t you think so when you try saying it out loud quickly? This recording was made in Niigata, a region in Japan famous for its rice production. The area also has a thriving garment industry, with factories scattered among the rice fields. If you listen closely, you can hear distant sounds of cars and trains. After a gentle breeze passes, you may even hear the siren of an ambulance. Recorded by Miyu Hosoi.

This field recording was made on the embankment of the Yamato River. You can hear the soft flow of the river, distant cars passing by, and the 6:00 p.m. evening chime. In many parts of Japan, melodies like this chime are played every evening through outdoor speakers. Originally part of disaster warning systems, they’ve become a daily signal for children to head home and a calming ritual for the community. Often nostalgic songs like Yuyake Koyake and Furusato are used, blending public technology with cultural tradition in a uniquely Japanese way. This particular moment was recorded in 2024, just before I was about to move away from the town. I felt a little sentimental, so I rode my bike to this spot to capture the sounds I’ve always loved. The recording holds the peaceful and nostalgic atmosphere of a Japanese evening—something simple, yet deeply emotional. Recoded by UIRO.

"Farm life" captures the soundscape of an open paddy field in southern India - long after the harvest season, when weeds have reclaimed the land and rural fauna slowly returns. Recorded just as the day was winding down, the acoustic landscape features a chorus of birds, insects, frogs and distant vehicles that are layered beneath the prominent and resonant calls of Greater Coucals engaging in what feels like a slow, conversational exchange. Recorded in Onamthuruth, Kerala by Manu Krishnakumar.

Inside St Martin's Church, which was founded in 1356 by the Duke of Mazovia Ziemowit and his wife Euphemia. It has been repeatedly reconstructed in the Baroque style, following destruction in 1944, the Baroque interior was not rebuilt and now it is largely modern, with the only surviving original element being the partially burned crucifix in the main nave. Recorded by Maria Papdomanolaki.

The recording was made at the harbor of Malta’s Three Cities: Vittoriosa, Senglea, and Cospicua - which sit directly across from the capital city of Valletta. The sound of church bells dominates, their deep tones reverberating over the water, creating a harmonious link between these historic cities. As the bells toll, the sounds of modern life emerge - vehicles moving through narrow streets, boats moving, and people chattering about their day. The calls of birds overhead add further richness to the scene. This lively mix creates a beautiful marvel of sound, with the Three Cities and Valletta facing each other across the water. The bells serve as a constant, marking time, while the noise of transportation and daily life adds contrast and movement. An instance of a dynamic play of sounds, where the bells, movement, and natural elements come together to form a unique soundscape. The result is a vivid portrayal of life around the harbor, where each sound contributes to the rhythm of the space, reflecting the energy of these historic cities. Recorded by Serge Bulat.

"The recording is of a tornado warning siren with howling wind and rain. Although we don't get tornadoes in my part of the world, I do enjoy stormy weather- from the comfort of my own cozy home. This is what I imagined when creating this piece: a warm cozy home where you can ignore the chaos going on around you. "The title, "Placid island" is from a H. P. Lovecraft- Call of Cthulhu quote, "We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far"." Fisherville tornado warning siren reimagined by Lynn Findlay.

There have been talks of a large storm moving in after many tornadoes had already touched down in the western part of the state earlier that day. Just before midnight, the rain calms down as the clouds lower, and the tornado sirens begin. I sit outside recording the dissonant yet beautiful cacophony of the overlapping sirens while neighbours step outside to asses the situation before the storm picks up and everyone makes their way to take shelter as the tornado touches down nearby. Sheltering in the basement as the tornado touches down, your ears pop as if an airplane is taking off due to the rapid change in pressure. The tornado passed by, leaving my childhood home unscathed, but others in the state were not so lucky. Days after these storms, the City of Louisville experienced one of the worst floods in its history. Recorded by Andrew Ramsey.