C.R. Gillespie guides us through his vivd sonic travelogue 'Tracings in Honey'

The Canadian artist’s latest work arrives as a limited edition LP via séance centre

C.R. Gillespie's forthcoming 'Tracings in Honey' long-player is an exquisite meditation on the visceral and external landscapes he encountered while travelling through Vietnam in 2019. Equipped with a recording device and a selection of demos recorded in advance of the trip, he and his wife traversed the diverse topography of the southeast Asian nation, gathering recordings, photographs, and enduring memories as the trip unfolded. Capturing ambient soundscapes – from the barking of street dogs and bustling market places to running water, birds and insects – he completed the compositions after returning home, his soul filled with the abundant visions instilled in him throughout his journeying. “Tracings in Honey is an album that tries to reconcile the idea of a place with lived experience, our personal ways of listening/seeing, and the marks and mirages of travel.”

We invited Gillespie to share some of his experiences with us, which he did graciously and with supreme eloquence, while also providing us with a set of evocative photographs taken during his trip.

“My wife and I were truly lucky to get a honeymoon when we did. The partial reason of why we chose Vietnam was because we were already travelling to Hong Kong to celebrate our wedding with her family out there (technically the 3rd "wedding": first was very small near my hometown of Nanaimo on Vancouver Island, second was for our Toronto friends and was more of a PARTY). But overall, we were excited to experience Vietnam, as it seemed to offer both some city-oriented travelling (Hanoi, Hoi An, Da Nang, with their abundant street food and night markets), as well as some more rural travel, which included some jungle hiking, caving, swimming and motor-scootering in Ninh Bình, Phong-Nhá and Pù Luông nature reserves.”

“In preparation for the trip, I tried to sit down in my home studio between planning logistics to knock out some quick synth improvisations. I would say the majority of my released work is based upon an initial improvisation, which is later sculpted into the finished track. I thought it would be interesting to try to capture my anticipation in a document beforehand, and see how it would feel and sound upon my return, so in a way I was kind of willing my memories into these initial demos throughout the trip. I knew I wasn't interested in making a facsimile of Vietnamese music or sounds, so I think it was important that the pieces reflected more emotional landscapes than experienced ones, and the actual "travelled" portion of the album consists purely of the field recordings I collected while I was there. I guess I would say that the album is both realistic and surreal, in the way that magical realism exists in the overlay of real and unreal in tandem.”

“To collect these recordings, I used a fairly cheap piece of gear, a Zoom H-1 Recorder, and I can't say I would recommend or use it for that purpose again. Although it does record in stereo, there was a constant struggle to capture amazing moments with unreliable battery life (I think 2xAA batteries would really only get me like 15 minutes of recording, and it had a habit of draining itself even as it was turned off). As I've noticed in previous travel-recordings, city settings are pretty hard to capture in isolated conditions, as there is always some overruling noise. I ended up compromising with the acceptance of this noise, which is why the sound of motor-scooters centres through a lot of the city sounds. As for the jungle, bugs prevail! The constant whine and sighs of the insect life actually lends itself well to textural ambient sounds, although I think we as people don't find them as idyllic as bird song, probably for obvious lived experience.”

“Of both settings, I have two experiences that stand out. The first was in the town of Phong-Nhá, where after dinner, my wife and I were riding home on rickety bicycles lent to us by our home-stay. It was about 9pm, and as we rounded a turn I heard this really curious choral sound, and soon realized the Catholic church we were passing was in full swing with the choir, and even from outside it was really affecting. I took off as fast as the bike would allow (leaving my wife in the dust) to make it back to our room so I could grab the recorder, and then pedalled back as fast as I could. I arrived maybe 10 minutes after I had first heard the music to find the service not only done, but the church completely dark and deserted. I was a little dejected that for my rush I didn't even stick around longer than a few seconds to absorb more of that hymn, and now I had neither the recording nor the experience. Also totally winded, I got back on my bike and slowly headed home, leaving the Zoom on in case there was any consolation on my trip back. It was then that I actually captured one of my favourite clips on the album: the chance interaction as I pedalled past between a group of children and a street dog, trading barks both real and imitated at each other (appears partway through "In Soft Water"). In retrospect, this was probably more valuable, as it really illuminated a personal aspect of the town and people, and was special in its own unintentional musicality.”

“The second occurred during an overnight jungle excursion, near our camp situated by a massive and perpetually deafening waterfall. I was only allowed to head deeper into the trees with a guide, a younger man with no apparent skill or interest in speaking English with me. I managed to get away from the sounds of water, and collected a lot of beautiful bird and insect chatter, just the essence of natural harmony (appears in "Bucephala"). Lost in my recording, I failed to notice a bush leech latch onto my arm, and when I did, I was kind of at a loss of what to do. Use a lighter to burn it off? Salt it like a slug back home? I kind of sign-languaged my distress to the guide, and with great comedic timing, he softly sighed and easily brushed it off my arm in one motion. My face is red thinking of it even now. It was an important lesson reminding me that despite my high-minded artistic intentions, I was still just another tourist.”

“Thinking of it now, these recordings are actually the best way for me to visualize my time there. I'm not much for personal documentation, although I did bring along a disposable camera, and I don't keep a journal. I know I'll probably regret this as my memories fade away, but listening back to the record, I'm able to place most of the inserted field recordings with their actual experiences, and in that way it colours in my memory of our honeymoon in Vietnam. It was a beautiful time in my life and a beautiful place for us to spend time together. It's interesting that what feels like a milestone experience in my life is now being documented and released in time for the next milestone, in which my wife and I are now expecting our first child. Today is actually our due date, but no labour so far! I feel very fortunate for what I have and what I've been able to experience, and now I'm trying to prepare myself for this new kind of domestic adventure.”

“I'm currently working on some new demos, centered around the Chinese Guzheng, a 21-string pentatonic zither that my wife and her family got me for my birthday this year. I have a backlog of demos featuring it in various ways that I plan to mix in between feeding times and diaper changes. And you can bet that I've also brought a mobile recording setup home to record and document this point in my life as well.”

We’re happy to report that there is now a new arrival in the Gillespie house, and that mother, baby, and father are all doing beautifully well.

‘Tracings in Honey’ by C.R. Gillespie is out June 25, you can buy it here