Listen to the Voices of the Fen is a new trail of site-specific sound sculptures – giant acoustic listening horns, aeolian harps, percussive woodpeckers, vessels of wild Fen clay, a Cretan sail windmill – lining the boardwalk of the National Trust’s oldest nature reserve. Kathy listened to the Fen’s often unheard sounds – underwater, underground, high in the air, and within its reeds and vegetation – to create the artwork’s sound-score. In August, she will release a companion album of compositions inspired by the Fen on the Persistence of Sound label. We sat down with Kathy to discuss her project.
Kathy, Listen to the Voices of the Fen is such a beautifully poetic title. What was the starting point for this project, and what drew you to Wicken Fen?
I was invited to submit a proposal to Wicken Fen as they were looking for an artist to work with them on celebrating their 125th year looking after the reserve. It instantly appealed to me.
I have been interested in peatlands for some time – in terms of biodiversity, being incredible carbon sinks, and the staggering amount of time that is held within peat – for example, the 4m deep peat on Sedge Fen took 4000 years to form. The idea of listening deep inside a peat makes me think about listening back in time, and prompts me to consider much longer time periods and imagine timescales out of my usual frame of reference.
On my first visit, I was struck by the quiet and beautiful sound of the reeds blowing gently in the wind as I stepped out into Sedge Fen, in the depth of winter in 2023.
I began investigating listening from different perspectives – deep inside the peat, underwater, inside trees, and was astounding to hear underwater invertebrates chirping away in sub zero conditions during December. This got me thinking about the many hidden voices of thousands of species co-existing at Wicken Fen, and that every voice there is important to listen to, no matter how quiet. So that is why I came up with the title.
This project feels like a quiet celebration of attention – slowing down, listening, being present. Why do you think that kind of listening matters, especially in a place like Wicken Fen?
Yes – that is right – there is a focus on slowing down, listening closely.
We are living in a world that pushes and pulls our attention in so many ways, it is often difficult to find space and time to slow down in our busy lives. Just being at Wicken Fen helps with this already – the calmness of the reed beds and the beauty of the landscape naturally encourages people to slow down, relax and pay attention to their surroundings.
However, I think bringing people’s attention to listening closely, can bring about an even deeper sense of connection to a place. At Wicken Fen there are many subtle, quiet sounds that may, ordinarily not be noticed. I have taken people out on deep listening walks, where I amplify hidden sounds that are underwater or underground, and people listen together on wireless headphones. When we do this, the group tend to also become more aware of the sounds they are making themselves, and tend to slow down, tread lightly, become quiet and really focus on listening actively. This new awareness of how much activity is happening sonically, that they hadn’t noticed before, can really open people’s minds to the fact that there are so many species we don’t often see, but we can listen to. Some of the sounds are very quiet, and, with practice, we can start to learn to listen in new ways. The kinds of sounds that are made accessible through unusual types of microphones I often find very fascinating, and I tend to want to spend longer and longer periods of time listening in these ways. This also makes me more aware and curious about sounds around me all the time, in my everyday life.
I think this matters in a place like Wicken Fen, because it is such a rich and biodiverse habitat, but not everything is noticeable at first glance. When people start to realise just how much is happening through listening, they might feel a deeper connection and a sense that we need to look after nature and tread lightly and carefully. Alongside that, deep listening in such a species rich location, can really help with our well being and calm our busy minds.
Some of the sounds that are revealed are quite unusual, and I think it is good to highlight the clicks, pops, grunts and scraps of underwater invertebrates and fish. These are more raw sounds, and a different kind of ‘dawn chorus’ not conventionally associated with what might be considered the ‘beautiful sounds of nature’, but actually are quite beautiful and captivating. People do always seem to find these soundscape appealing when we listen together. I think this is also quite important, as it is different, and therefore perhaps has more of an impact in terms of switching people on to highlighting listening as a way of getting to know a landscape.
One of the striking aspects of this work is that it doesn’t dominate the landscape – it gently invites you in. How do you strike that balance between artistic presence and ecological sensitivity?
That balance is always front of my mind. Wicken Fen is such an incredible place in itself, and the soundscape is gentle and quiet, also depending on what time of year.
We chose to place the sculpture trail late in the summer after all the birds have finished breeding, so as not to cause any disruption. I thought about ways to draw attention to what is already there, to reveal elements of the soundscape that are usually inaudible, and to offer slight shifts in perspective to encourage new realisations. I hope people will notice more and pay attention to the smaller, quieter aspects of Wicken Fen. I was also very struck by the ever present breeze, and have been experimenting with many ways to create instruments that make sounds activated by the wind, such as aeolian harps, and amplifying dry reeds can create amazing ethereal sounds. Some pieces use natural materials from the site, such as wild clay from the recent peatland restoration, to draw attention to the processes that formed the landscape, and highlight the important restoration work that is ongoing. Water is so important for the peat, so I have made a kinetic sound sculpture that uses water levels to make sounds by pushing air through clay flutes… I won’t say too much as people need to come and visit!
I have invited in other artists too, such as Oliver Payne, who is based in Norwich. Oliver has built a wooden listening horn of an architectural scale, as an invitation for visitors to pause and listen to the landscape. Established composer, Stevie Wishart, who is based in Kings Lynn, grew up playing her violin amongst the reedbeds of Wicken Fen, and I have invited her to compose and play short pieces for violin, inspired by the spring dawn chorus. These pieces will form an installation to be heard in the woodland, as an echo of the rich soundscape of birdsong from earlier in the year. Again, these creative responses to the soundscape will be presented at a volume level that is sympathetic to the overall soundscape.
I’ve been collaborating with flute player and maker Jan Hendrickse on creating overtone flutes made from willow branches. The willow needs to be cut back in the winter to keep the wetlands wet, so we have made use of this material to work with local people to co-create instruments to play together amongst the installation trail on the opening weekend. Amy Wyllie has been collaborating with local schools to create soundscapes inspired by the sounds of Wicken Fen and we also have some creative offerings on a bespoke new website made for the project. I’ve worked with creative technologist Matthew Olden on setting up a constant live audio stream from underwater and a ‘virtual’ aeolian harp that responds to live wind speed data from Sedge Fen.
Many people might not associate sound with conservation – but your work shows how listening can be a kind of ecological care. What do you hope people take away from this experience, both emotionally and environmentally?
From my own experience, I have noticed that spending time listening and making recordings on location can bring about a deeper sensitivity and emotional connection to a place. And these connections do translate into an embodied desire to care more for the natural world, and do more. So, I hope this also happens for other people experiencing this project.
I am also interested in learning about conservation and scientific research. For example, bioacoustic monitoring can be a very effective way to monitor and survey a sensitive location, through listening. It is possible to get a sense of which species are present without disturbing the location by needing to visit to carry out a survey in person. Our underwater live stream forms part of a global environmental listening project, called ’Locus Sonus’ which includes a soundmap with many live audio streams from all over the world.
We have held many workshops and listening walks throughout the year, which has created space for people to listen more deeply to Wicken Fen, and to be creative with materials and processes that are in tune with the location, and the installations too. We have made Aeolian harps, clay ocarinas, willow flutes, DIY hydrophones… and more !
And finally – World Listening Day feels like the perfect moment to open the trail. If someone is visiting the Fen for the very first time, what would you gently encourage them to do or notice as they begin walking through?
I would invite them to slow down and to listen…
Pause, cup your hands behind their ears, close your eyes for a moment and listen.
Discover new sounds, take longer, and be curious.
Listen to the Voices of the Fen
Friday 18 July to Sunday 28 September, 10am to 4.30pm (from 2pm on 18 July)
The National Trust, Wicken Fen National Nature Reserve, Lode Lane, Wicken, Ely CB7 5XP FREE entry to National Trust members otherwise adults £10, children 5 to 17 £5, under 5s free https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/visit/cambridgeshire/wicken-fen-national-nature-reserve/voices-of-the-fen