I went to a field recording workshop held at listude in Hokuto, Yamanashi, last November. The organizers only recently moved the venue to Hokuto and although this new location is snuggled in a pine forest, it is equipped with everything you need to enjoy sounds, including a workshop with polyhedric speakers, a listening room, and a music hall that is small enough that can see the performer’s face. This workshop is held periodically at SALO in Oiso, Kanagawa, but through Tsurubayashi’s (founder of listude) observation that “making sounds begins by listening”, they decided to move the venue for this session.

I am an absolute beginner when it comes to the world of audio, so I wondered if I really would be able to record something. With these concerns in my chest, I headed to Yamanashi, the air chilly with the start of winter. The workshop began with a lecture where Iguchi introduced the audio equipment, followed by a question session where attendees could, based on the level of their experience, ask him questions on recording. I got to hold a piece of recording equipment for the first time—it was a lot smaller and lighter than I expected.

As I listened to the recordings through a pair of earphones, I felt like the leading role and supporting role of my sensory experience had switched places. I wondered which one of the infinite sounds that exist in the world I wanted to pass the mic over to.

At the end of the two-day-long workshop, we had time where we could all listen to the sounds the other attendees recorded. From professionals to beginners, we got to enjoy the culmination of everyone’s thoughts and sounds, almost like a sound-based poetry reading. I was particularly fascinated in watching Takuji Aoyagi, a musician who performed a solo guitar concert on the same day as the workshop, as well as the other instructors close their eyes, look into space, as they took in the sounds.

There is one sound in particular that I recorded which I’m proud of. It’s the sound of a man sighing after he comes back inside from the cold, sits down, and takes a sip of tea. From the reverberating sound of that sigh comes the feeling of the cold, the steam of his breath, and his relaxation. Listening to it back on the recording equipment, I realized just how thick with expression sound could be. I realized that I usually rely so much on my eyes and wanted to apologize to my ears. At the same time, I learned that there are ways to process sound that you can only do through recordings. My heart was aflutter with the joy of having found a new friend in recording equipment.