Earlier this year, I began work on Annie Saunders’s site-specific soundwalk Current which is available to experience in Lower Manhattan every evening until October 2021. Like so many projects this past year, I was working remotely. My understanding of the site was limited to listening to immersive binaural field recordings: overheard pedestrian conversations, buzzing buildings, and the rhythmic waves of Battery Park--all recorded over a year by co-collaborator Andrew Schneider. Remote work is inherently novel, but working on a site-specific piece while being off-site was illuminating. Being removed from the physical aspect of the project, the sound was particularly transportive. Sitting in Los Angeles, I would immediately be taken to Zuccotti Park, imagining my experience as a listener as I was guided through the streets of Lower Manhattan. When I finally did the walk in person, I was surprised that Zuccotti Park was much more industrial than I had pictured, but simultaneously thrilled to experience the months of research and observations Annie had recorded throughout the past year while keeping pace with her footsteps.

An early reference for Current was Janet Cardiff’s Her Long Black Hair, a soundwalk that journeys through Central Park South and takes a quasi-narrative approach as she retraces the footsteps of a mysterious woman who appears in a set of photographs she found at a flea market. When the project originally premiered in 2004, participants would receive an audio kit as well as a packet of photographs, which they would be instructed to reference throughout the walk at specific locations. I listened to Cardiff’s project remotely as well--immediately, I was charmed by the intentional binaural soundscape as well as the intimate nature of the format. As wide as the soundscapes can be in soundwalks, they are ultimately an individualized experience. That said, experiencing the soundwalk in person was magical.

<<In the audio version, you hear the actual beginning of Janet Cardiff’s soundwalk in this next section. The italics are direct quotes from the soundwalk. >>

I did the soundwalk with my dear friend Laura, intentionally counting off “3, 2, 1, go” so our experience could be shared. It was a cloudy Sunday. We hear the distant rumble of thunder and I remember I didn’t bring an umbrella, only to realize the audio for the soundwalk had begun. It begins with a real demonstration of the magic of sound. Cardiff immediately takes us to her POV of Central Park South. We’re standing where she was standing and looking at the same buildings which she looked at. “It’s just after a rain, the streets are still wet, but I think it’ll stop for a while. It’s loud here isn’t it? When you’re in a city like New York, you have to think about all the sounds like they’re a symphony, otherwise you go a bit crazy.”

I’m giddy. Laura and I squeeze each other’s arms and we take in Cardiff’s NYC. The first photograph is at the beginning--she shows us where we’re standing and we line up the image, taken in 1965, and we listen to the band that played there in the photograph. The buildings are unchanged, the people are different, there is no band, but the same horse footsteps pass as 60 years ago. I’m so struck by this initial synchronicity--a precursor of many moments of time travel to come.

Her Long Black Hair is described as a “complex investigation of location, time, sound, and physicality, interweaving stream-of-consciousness observations with fact and fiction, local history, opera and gospel music, and other atmospheric and cultural elements.” While it is a deeply individual experience, it’s also profoundly collective. Throughout the walk, Cardiff points out observations: stroller traffic at Central Park Zoo, an opera singer at the Bethesda Fountain, a couple taking wedding photos in the archways of a tunnel--all of which occurred in real life during our walk. I was moved by these reminders, often wondering about other people who have done the walk and the moments of magic we each experienced individually while walking the same path, listening to the same audio, over the past 20 years.

In many ways, these site specific soundwalks are time capsules--a physical adventure to visit a time, place, and headspace. However, they also reveal gems of collective experience and the institutions of place. The hot dog cart that Cardiff tells you to take a left at in 2004, is the hot dog cart you take a left at. The drummers and dancers you walk through at The Mall are ones you hear both binaurally in the soundwalk and in real life as you navigate through an excited crowd. The moments of asynchronicity are equally special. The polar bear Cardiff has you stop to look at in Central Park Zoo passed away at the age of 27 in 2013. In Annie Saunders’ soundwalk, she points out a doorman who looks at you funny when you walk by and...he looked at us funny when we walked by. We’re reminded of things bigger than ourselves. I was visiting New York for a week, my friend had moved there during the pandemic. Our New York experiences were relatively short and temporary, but Cardiff’s walk revealed a collective experience and history we were now a part of through her soundwalk.

To experience Janet Cardiff: Her Long Black Hair, I recommend downloading the mp3s here and referencing the photos here. Otherwise, you’ll have to use a soundcloud playlist which does have ads embedded between tracks and pulls you out just slightly from the experience.

To experience Annie Saunders’s Current, find more details here.