Soundmarks: Art and Archaeology

We were extremely interested to hear about ‘Soundmarks’, the new collaboration between the artist and archaeologist Dr Rose Ferraby and the artist Rob St John, which brought together art, sound and archaeology to explore and document the hidden sub-surface landscape of the village of Aldborough in North Yorkshire, England. 

Aldborough was an important town in the Roman north, one with a central forum, basilica and amphitheatre. But for anyone visiting the town today, this history is not immediately obvious. And so the Soundmarks project was born; an attempt to bring this landscape back to life again, through art exhibitions, sound installations, a book and audio art trail, as well as a documentary film and podcast.

“There is rich ground for creative exploration between art and archaeology, allowing new ways of exploring landscapes. So much of archaeology is about imagination: engaging with creative practice can open up new ways of thinking through archaeology and communicating it in interesting and exciting ways.” – Rose Ferraby.

On the Soundmarks website you can delve into more of this fascinating story through the different strands of the project, including the documentary film and audio trail (with accompanying town map). And if you happen to be in the neighbourhood of Aldborough, the English Heritage Museum in the village is providing a home to the visual and audio elements of the project.

To learn more about the project, have a listen to the Soundmarks Podcast, in which Rose and Rob sit down to talks about the process of research, making and exhibiting, interwoven with field recordings and music made for the project:

Soundmarks is an art/archaeology collaboration between Rose Ferraby and Rob St. John using sound and visual art to explore and animate the sub-surface landscape of Aldborough Roman Town in North Yorkshire, UK. This podcast, recorded in September 2019, features a conversation between Rose and Rob outlining their processes of research and making over six months in Soundmarks, resulting in an exhibition, sound installation, book, art trail and film. Their conversation covers themes around art, archaeology, sound and landscape, and is woven with field recordings and music created in the project. Find out more on the project website: https://soundmarks.co.uk/ Soundmarks was supported by funding from Arts Council England.

Soundmarks on Twitter

Postcard from... Tarragona

By Tim Woods:

A string of global top ten hits; a world-famous fashion icon; the star of era-defining TV shows. But when you hear ‘Minogue’, do you immediately think ‘Dannii’?

Tarragona suffers from a similarly overbearing sibling. It has everything a visitor could want from a Spanish excursion – coast, culture, cuisine and cerveses – yet for many, Catalonia means one thing: that overcrowded, football-famous metropolis up the coast. Even names such as Sitges and Salou will often chime more readily. These nearby resorts offer little more than sun, sangria and “Full English, only €15!!!”, yet still attract more tourists. Some hotels even offer trips to Tarragona as an afternoon excursion: “Only four hours there and back!!!”. Being little more than a time-killing detour from these culturally devoid upstarts must be hard for a former Roman capital to bear.

Yet could the times be changing? Barcelona’s authorities are actively turning tourists away, and there are only so many boiled-lobster beach-lovers that can be squeezed onto a beach. There is a void to be filled, a market to be served, and Tarragona is more than equipped to step up.

Late afternoon, I lose myself in the constricted alleys of its honeycomb old town, the docile ochre of the buildings disrupted by the Catalan flags that flap from every other balcony. I am hardly alone; a steady stream of tourists meander with me, and we are all eventually drawn to the steep steps of the cathedral, where perching space is at a premium. But drift along any of the streets that radiate from this central point and you have space, time, quiet; a stillness rarely found in Barca.

I head to the rambla, where I can actually ramble, rather than being jostled along with a crowd’s haste. Fish and tapas restaurants flank either side, but there are spaces to be had at the tables. The tiny bars selling home-flavoured vermouth are hidden just a couple of streets away. Later, I head to the Balcó del Mediterrani. It’s a hazy, lazy evening, perfect for outside, yet there is still ample room at the city’s prime lookout, from where you can soak up the ancient Amfiteatre to the north, or the fishing boats spinning around at sea.

Humbler Roman sites crop up unexpectedly. Next morning, in search of watermelon for a hungry toddler, we stumble upon the Teatre Romà de Tarragona. This spectacular site pops up unexpectedly; there are no signs, no tour parties, no fuss or fanfare. It’s just there, should you want to see it.

Or not. Up to you.           

Tim is an editor on Elsewhere: A Journal of Place and the author of Love In The Time of Britpop. You’ll find him on twitter here.