Voices of Memu

Voices of Memu

I stayed at memu earth lab, based in Memu (mem, Taiki Town), located in the southern part of Tokachi, eastern Hokkaido, for a total of five weeks during the winter and spring of 2021 and 2022, and recorded the sounds I encountered at various locations around the area.

Loading the recording equipment into the car, I would drive on the vast land while thinking, “Where should I go today?”

There are forests and rivers all around, and lakes and marshes dotting the coast. Away from the town centre, one rarely sees passing cars or people. On the other hand, wild foxes, red-crowned cranes, and squirrels can be seen from time to time, and the snow reveals a smattering of animal tracks.

I’d park the car at a suitable spot, carry our bags of equipment, and keep walking until I found a point that looked interesting or contained the atmosphere of something I could record. The various sounds that I encountered in this way are recorded in this work. In addition, we talked to the people who live in the area because I was interested in how and what kind of sounds they heard in their daily lives.

When I stepped out of the bungalow where we were staying on a snowy morning,

I shivered with such silence that I thought my ears were clogged. Even in places where it seemed like one can only hear the sounds of “nature” with their own ears, the microphones captured a variety of sounds associated with human activity. For example, there are the sounds of large trucks driving on national highways, hunters shooting their prey in the mountains, airplanes passing overhead, the sound of the outdoor units of neighbouring residences, and of course, the sounds I myself make subconsciously. Still, a place where there is little background noise and small sounds can be heard clearly is worthwhile in itself. This is just such a place.

Considering both the ambient sounds I encountered in Memu, and the voices of people, without distinguishing them, I try to perceive the two things as the voice of this land. By attentively listening to the voice of the land, recording it, and listening deeply to the recorded sounds, what kind of world will emerge? The word ‘Memu’ (mem, in Ainu sound) apparently means ‘a place where springs wells up and fish gathers’ in the Ainu language. It is my hope that these sounds will intertwine with the memories and physical experiences of each listener and nurture their imagination towards the world like spring water.