Imbalsamato

Immersive audio experience

Field recordings in Cornwall, 2022-2024

You step into the field with your recorder the way Thomas once walked the lanes, ears wide open, collecting the small, stubborn sounds most people never notice. A gull’s sharp cry cuts the wind, waves slap black rock, a gate chain rattles in the breeze, reeds hiss against each other in a hidden creek. Each fragment is caught clean and quick—no flourish, no fuss—just the place speaking plainly in its own rough tongue. Your recordings hold these overheard truths: the low moan of the coast, the metallic hum of a fence wire, the soft thud of rain on bracken. They are randigals of sound, brief and true, proof that beauty often hides in what is simply there, waiting to be heard.

The art of listening is patient work. It asks you to stand still, microphone ready, and let the world finish its sentence without interruption. No editing the moment, no imposing your own rhythm—just receiving what comes: the drip from an oak branch, the far call of a raven naming itself in Cornish air, the layered crunch of leaves underfoot. In every track you make, ordinary time turns vivid and alive. Like Thomas gathering scraps of talk by the quay and turning them into rhyme, you preserve these fleeting voices so others may one day pause, smile, and recognise the quiet poetry that has always been singing around us.

Inspired to Joseph Thomas’s Randigal Rhymes.

Encounters along the cornish railway line.