10 tracks. 60 minutes. All field recordings.
Photos and words complement the sounds to reveal the character of a place as perceived by the recordist. The result is an immersion into a personal city, a place experienced through the subjective ears of the artist. An experience you can share and engage with to (re)discover a little bit of the world under an unexpected light.
I’m not a Bristolian.
I’m French but I’m also a Londoner of sorts. I escaped France and found refuge in London in the early 2010s. I spent six years in the capital of the UK and found what I was looking for. I didn’t need any more from that city. In fact, I was starting to find too many flaws to it. So I moved away, to a smaller place.
There were many reasons to settle on Bristol, but ultimately it was a bit of a whim. As I type those words, Bristol has been my home for nine months. It’s a short amount of time but it’s enough to fall in love with the city. It’s beautiful and rugged, it’s quiet and noisy, it’s big and small, it’s friendly. It’s everything I was after.
When Terence Lloren first got in touch in July, I got very excited about the project. It was an opportunity to share a slice of a city I had come to love, to call home. But I wanted to record what I had experienced in June. A city blessed by the sun where people lingered by the harbour late into the evening, not a worry on their minds. A city of light and water. Then the school holidays began and rain settled in. I waited for the sun to come back. That didn’t happen and I realised it didn’t need to. I wanted to record an experience of the city from a month gone by. What I was really after was an experience of the city in the here and now.
So what you will hear, is not Bristol in June, is not Bristol in September. It is summertime in 2017. It isn’t the Bristol of guidebooks either. It’s my Bristol, the one I hear everyday, the one that has engraved itself in my mind after nine months of living there.