Bunkfest Soundwalk

The jolly clacking of ‘Moorish’ (Morris) sticks and the jangling of crotals fades as I move from under the arches, up the stone steps, then reappearing as I stroll over the bridge towards Wallingford, where the Bunkfest hoards are assembling. At the far side, I veer-off the main road to avoid the bursts of vehicles released by the traffic lights, choosing a quieter route to the market place. The relative stillness reveals small sounds and reminds me not to rush, supporting my intention on this soundwalk: to rest my awareness on the character of my footsteps as they sound. My zig-zag path through the backstreets comes briefly to a halt in ‘Mousey Lane.’ I notice my pleasure in hearing it's flutter-echo and in being on the fringes of the action, a natural [dis]position for me, perhaps?

Mousey Lane

After a minute-or-so, and with a little reluctance, I saunter from the seclusion of the alleyway, into the busy Market Place. The noisy throngs, amplified in my headphones, make me conscious of the available headroom on my recorder and highlight my conspicuousness as someone documenting public space. So, I skirt the edges of the crowds bobbing to the squeezebox-driven Morris dancing and cross over St Martin’s Street. Having had time to calibrate my ears, I find myself tuning into small glimpses of conversations as I pass by, enjoying the fragmentary poetry created. Unlike when reading these back (see below), each sliver of speech is instantly forgotten, and I simply experience the feeling-tone of each phrase as it happens. Slightly distracted by this, I head down Church Lane towards Kine Croft. Bowie’s ‘Starman’ emerges bass-first from amongst the babble of voices and my footsteps become inaudible. I observe my tendency to re-anchor my attention in the breath instead of my feet, a focus still interrupted by the lively chatter of passersby. Then, approaching the main stage and arena, the soundscape changes, demanding my attention. And, while I return periodically to the sounds of my feet or sensation of breathing, I make the decision to relent and send my attention outwards, to the hubbub of music, voices and barking dogs, along with the sights and smells of stages and stalls. There is a naturalness and ease in letting attention wander this-way-and-that, drifting with the currents in the soundscape. Maintaining a comfortable distance from the crowds becomes more difficult as I approach the main stage, so I turn back to walk past Agatha Christie (who also appears to welcome the distraction from reading), towards the Bull Croft.

Agatha Christie

On the way, I pause at a quieter position outside Wallingford Museum on the High Street, where merry drumming, piping and jingling mingle with amplified music from the speaker-stacks north and south of me. The musics that fill the air here may clash, but their energy sits together harmoniously and lifts my mood (something I typically rely on a morning coffee for). I could stand here listening for a lot longer but, it being a soundwalk, I stroll onwards to the Bull Croft. On entering, I pass another Morris group, heels clacking on the makeshift wooden stage, rapidly drowned-out by a rendition of Alanis Morrisette’s ‘You Learn’. The karaoke-backed melody wanders a little from that intended but, no matter, I enjoy the confidence and ‘heart’ that underpins the performance and feel a wave of support well up in me, stretching out to the young girl ‘giving it her all’ on stage. Without a predetermined route, I feel myself drawn to the colours and promise of sonic variety offered by the children’s stalls and rides visible to the left of the stage. Ambling past, I’m tempted to explore the sounds of the roundabout, the target-shooting and duck-fishing game, but don’t want my presence to cause any alarm or suspicion amongst the parents and other care-givers. So, I continue, walking past, out of the festival enclosure and along the temporary gridded trackway that leads to the edge of the Bull Croft. Walking the perimeter path, the fading high frequencies of the festival unmask a wash of leaves and birdsong. What remains of the music is smoothed and softened as it travels across the park and with this, my awareness effortlessly returns to my footsteps and breathing. The call of a red kite seems to suggest that I bring the soundwalk and recording to a close, so I do.

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Bull Croft Perimeter Path

Soundwalks are usually initiated as opportunities to educate, map, collect, challenge or disrupt. Their intention and focus can be loaded and demanding, wishing to guide the participant into a particular mode of listening, for a particular end. The parameters of the Bunkfest soundwalk were similarly pre-set: to maintain attention on my feet as they walk through a busy, distracting soundscape. I was interested to see how I would respond to the challenge of walking amidst the busyness and auditory distraction.

In other, usually quieter and less heavily populated situations, anchoring my attention on the sound of my footsteps or the sensations of breathing would ground and connect me with my surroundings. Bringing a soft focus to a single object of attention can be a refuge from feeling dispersed, an opportunity to gather oneself and take stock. But, doing so at Bunkfest, where the festival paraphernalia is arranged to draw and hold your attention, was a struggle. Wearing headphones already created a ‘social distance' which was made more pronounced by wielding a recording device. This remoteness was exacerbated when I maintained a narrow focus on my feet or breathing, preventing me from responding to the promptings of the soundscape and distancing me further from the merrymaking of Bunkfest revellers. It felt isolating, dis-locating and counter-intuitive.

Mindfulness practices invariably encourage an attitude of curiosity, flexibility and friendliness towards both the contents of our experience and our engagement with specific exercises (Teasdale et al, 2014). I was glad (on this occasion) to be able to let go of my initial ‘goals’ and remain open and adaptable to the situation, making the experience far more natural and enjoyable. That is not to suggest that guiding and sustaining attention on a single object is of no value - it's an invaluable tool in care-full listening (see these posts). It is simply that this soundwalk highlighted the need for me to feel able to chuck-out the 'rule-book' and skilfully shift the focus of attention as circumstances required. I noticed that when the soundscape was muted or the ground underfoot was unpredictable, my attention was drawn downwards, to my feet and the sound-texture of my footsteps. When the soundscape masked my footsteps, my attention found a home in the sensations of breathing. When the soundscape asked to be acknowledged, my attention moved to meet it. Working with, rather than against, the natural affordances of the mind-body and the soundscape, moves the practice of contemplative field recording in the direction of connection, flexibility and freedom, towards what the Taoist's might call wu-wei: “…to simply do exactly what we are doing, to do it wholly and selflessly, spontaneously and without any separation from it.” (Hinton, 2023)

Thanks for sharing this listening with me,

Richard.

Looking back across the Bull Croft

Transcript

Newspaper, I think

That’s why I left

Brookes… Brookes

Yeah

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah

They have been, you know

Totally, this time, you never know

Weren’t you…

Yeah

Yeah

Ah well

Get rid of us awkward ones

Yeah

What do you mean yeah?!

Yeah

Yes

They can still go

I mean, I’m…

Back for another go

See it

Uh, yes

Yes I know

Festival gets bigger and bigger

…ready

No, not if they’re busy

Lovely flowers today

Yes

Where’s that visit?

there’s…a…umm

They just like had an air conditioning

Other than that…

Yeah

If you want to, you can jus-si-strip

Sit break

Sort the water out in the lead, for you?

Cinnamon roll

Yeah

Cinnamon swirl

We didn’t go up that far did we?

Where Ady said.

Ok yep, yeah

Get some chairs then and I’ll ring you back

Oi!

Further back

I’ll have a look

I don’t know

You gotta stay close

And then I…

That’s a good idea.

I don’t know…here now

Julia

Julia, I’ve got your ears

There generally is

Do you wanna drink?

Sausages

Don’t walk in the mud though

Yeah, probably, see in you in a bit

Hello there!

Hello!

Something going on, down by that…

Listen anymore

Blood pressure went…

Sorry?

Train

…not know that…learning so many things today.

Anyone. I recommend walking around naked…

Swallow it down, what a jagged little pill.

It feels so good, swimming in your stomach,

Way dance until the dust settles.

You live, you learn.

You love, you learn

You cry, you learn

You lose, you earn

You eat…

Anyone

Certainly do!

Gimme bowlinnnng!

What time’s your dance?

I wouldn’t mind

George, George!

…attitude…

I know I’m on with, uuh…

They’re growing

They are

…old are they now?

They are…nineteen months

That’s what like…

The only problem for us…

…anymore, but…

Whatever brought you here, you are very welcome.

Thank you for listening and do consider sharing your experiences, reflections and wisdom in the comments below or by emailing me at: richard@anoisysilence.com