My first memory of sound being recorded are the recordings my dad made.
I remember the clicking of the recorder as he pressed the buttons, ready for me to answer some questions into a microphone after he tested it ‘Eins Zwei Drei’.
I was just about able to put some sentences together resulting in some hilarious recordings; talking about what I saw during the day which often involved reflections on church visits, for example my thoughts on why Jesus had blood on his feet whilst hanging on a cross.
Hearing my own voice out of a machine was strange, how can that happen?
How can it be preserved and I can still hear myself today speaking as a 3 year old?
My father has one of those machines that takes two spools – one full of tape, the other one empty, ready to gather the sounds once played…it has as well as the sound of the recording the sound of the machine playing, the tape being rolled up, often the end of the tape scratching on each turn against the spool.
Singing was a big part of a catholic childhood, but I was also lucky to be a part of a children’s choir that had nothing to do with churchy songs… I had trouble reading music, but memorised songs after a while, tune and rhythm being equally of importance to me.
So from an early age I was able to understand that words are stories to listen to and songs are moving words that can trigger emotional responses.
Time to explore sound, music, voice, recordings.