Sonette

A Thunderstorm of the Retreating Monsoon

ayushahuja — Thu, 05 May 2011 11:58:35 +0000

After a few months of a not very good rainy season as the sun began to set one evening in late September, the sky went overcast and a dull yellow glow spread all over the city as the wind started to blow from the east towards the sea. Over land I saw large groups of clouds thundering out towards the coast. They stopped above me for a while, sparking lightning as they departed.

Equipment: SD 788t, AT825

Tetrapod

ayushahuja — Sat, 08 May 2010 11:30:25 +0000

The south mumbai coastline along Marine Drive is shrouded with mountains of tetrapods along its periphery. These tetrahedral concrete giants help break the heavy monsoon waves that pound the coastline annually.

Within these formations are little pockets, like miniature caves where pools form and eddies of water stream in and then get sucked out as the tides ebb and flow.

Equipment: Sound Devices 788t, 2 x Schoeps CMC4

Monsoon Winds

ayushahuja — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 12:22:26 +0000

The winds pick up off the sea and batter our coastline, making their way around every obstacle and through every cranny. Windows rattle under the force, and doors open and then close again. The howling and wheezing continues unchecked for days on end as the sea gets darker and the skies slowly fill with towering grey clouds. The monsoon slowly sets in.

Equipment: Sound Devices 788t, Audio-Technica BP4025

Darjeeling Journeys

ayushahuja — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 07:01:39 +0000

The journey from Mumbai to Darjeeling is all about waiting. Mumbai to Delhi, Delhi to Bagdogra and then finally Bagdogra to Darjeeling. If the weather is poor, then there’s more waiting to be had; landslides, traffic jams, waiting for transport are all part of the experience.

Twelve hours after having left Mumbai we finally made it to Bagdogra, a small army cantonment town at the foothills of the Himalayas. We decided to take a shortcut via Pankhabari which turned out to be the scenic route. We immediately hit a traffic jam outside of the town, all thanks to the presence of a stray Elephant which the villagers were trying to scare away by firing blanks.

Further out, as dusk approached, we had to stop to appreciate the chorus of crickets which emanated from the trees around us. I’d have liked to have stayed out in the woods to record some more but the driver called us back as he feared there’d be cobras lurking about.

Bengal had just been hit by Cyclone Aila and the clouds were heading up the hills. Our first few days were mostly spent in the hotel room playing cards and reading magazines left behind by tourists, most of them not in English, accompanied by the sounds of rain (if you’re listening on laptop speakers then you’re not going to be able to hear any thunder).

After a few hellish rain-soaked days, i woke up in the middle of the night to emptiness. The rain had finally stopped. The silence that accompanies the aftermath of a storm is intriguing, almost sinster. The howls of dogs in the distance punctuated the havoc it caused. Houses had been brought down by the landslides, and monkeys had come down from the hills, fleeing the carnage.

On our way back, we rescheduled one flight, missed the next and finally made it on the third after spending the night in Bagdogra accompanied by incredibly large pegs of alcohol (the smallest they served) and a delicious Bengali fish curry. A wide road runs through the town and carries heavy traffic through the night, and the cricket song was accompanied by the moans and groans of trucks and other heavy vehicles. At the end of this recording, a little lizard or gecko called out; its only the second time i’ve managed to capture one.

Equipment: Zoom H2

You can also see some pics i’ve uploaded here

A Mid-Summer Morning in Khandala

ayushahuja — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 06:49:15 +0000

A year had passed in the city without a break or even a weekend away. The constant din around me made me numb to everything.

Work gave me a chance to get away to Khandala. We left late in the evening and arrived well past sundown, welcomed by a chorus of a million crickets. The following morning I woke to sweet birdsong, a sound embedded in memory, familiar but still distant from the last time I had experienced it. City birds are just not the same.

Equipment: Zoom H2

An Evening in Istanbul

ayushahuja — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 14:35:48 +0000

I was in Istanbul in May 2008, working on a radio adaptation of “My name is Red” with the director John Dryden. In the evenings after work, we would often wander about town to experience the wonderful city life and kept our recorders with us just incase we would chance upon something useful. In a little restaurant on La Rue Française (Cezayir Sokak) we met a local Oud player and singer who promised us some renditions of Turkish classical songs, which we hoped would help influence our radio project. Unfortunately i’m unaware of his name, and am thus unable to provide due credit.

Equipment: Nagra Ares BB+, AT 825

Thirteen minutes and thirty-one seconds of….

ayushahuja — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 06:50:10 +0000

Patience. A while ago I’d spent some time in Lincolnshire recording winds for an animation that I was working on. A night of experiments in stretching, smearing and synthesizing these recordings resulted in this piece that has spent most if its life simply titled as ‘Ambience’. I seem to have a variety of explanations for what I think of it but I like to look at it as very simple tonal piece, but with fairly complex harmonics. I think it reflects the landscape where it came from but suffices just as well as a short piece for mediation. Best heard on headphones with eyes closed, but even more addictive if you’re listening to it in a crowd, like on the tube, with eyes open. It manages to slow life down a bit – perhaps thats why I decided to call it Patience.

Equipment: HHb Portadat, Sennheiser MKH418S, NI Kontakt, Nuendo

A Fish Market in Mumbai

ayushahuja — Mon, 10 Mar 2008 05:14:59 +0000

On a hot saturday morning, a fish market in a northern suburb of Mumbai is teeming with activity. Fish sellers call out their wares while simultaneously hacking their fish into fillets for freshly made deals. Hens squeal with anxiety as a chicken shop behind me sets up for the day’s business. Cats and dogs are everywhere, accompanied by crows who’s caws resonate under the makeshift corrugated metal roofs of the market. The crowd ebbs and flows; a mix of discussions of the days news, stories of family, and bargains on fish prices. Beneath me a rat lays dead and unnoticed, trampled on by every other foot that passes by.

Equipment: HHb Portadat, Sennheiser MKH418S

Drongo

ayushahuja — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 21:55:43 +0000

I came upon a Drongo late last year and it decided to sing for me. Drongos combine mimicry with their own calls, and when Drongos are alarmed, they mimic the alarm calls of other species as well as the calls of nest predators, eagles and hawks. I decided to sample one of nature’s very own samplers. The method of Grain Clouds is one of my favourite techniques, whereupon I can use a very small duration of a recording and realise all its textures and harmonies via various controls. I have attempted to create an electronic ecological soundscape out of that single sound clip of the Drongo that visited me. The first four seconds of this clip is the original recording of the bird’s call that day, which is then followed by my resultant creation.

Equipment: Sound Devices 744t, AKG SE300B + CK91 x2, NI Reaktor

The Crows of Bangladesh

ayushahuja — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 13:12:22 +0000

Out in a field in Bangladesh I was surprised by the ferocity of the crows. I’d been told many a story of the clannish tendencies of these animals and when I approached them, rather than fly away, they took to the air and started to circle me. Did you know that a group of crows is called a murder?

Equipment: Sound Devices 744t, AKG SE300B + CK91 x2