Forest Listening Rooms is a product of an eleven-year relationship developed with communities in Appalachian Ohio who live within the Wayne National Forest. It began with ethnographic research, followed by acquaintances and then friendships, and continues now with a deep admiration for the land and the people who live there.

For the past three years, I have been leading local residents out into the forest to critically listen to its past and present, and to engage in both contemplation and conversation through listening. We take sound walks, listen in silence, listen to archival and contemporary recordings of other residents, and then talk with one another about the land.

On this recording, you’ll hear the voices of past and present local residents of the forest in Appalachian Ohio; they recount their love for the land, memories of the past, disasters and underground mine fires, economic and political struggles over mining and extraction, and their hopes for the future. You’ll also hear field recordings of the natural environment of the forest: a spring chorus of pre-dawn birds, summer drones of insects, and faint autumn sounds of wind and rain on brittle, fallen leaves. Finally, you’ll hear the sounds of an ensemble of seven musicians, whose long tones and static, ambient harmonies complement and interact with the environmental and human sounds already present. (You can listen to the instrumental version of this piece and others on "Wayne National Forest.") Nature, people, and music all come together to create a recording that listens to the region as a way to understand its past and change its future.

lyrics

VOICES:

1:24 “It’s definitely a meditative space for me personally, but it’s also this really dense, complex, layered historical place that I don’t fully grasp or understand.”

2:35 “Do you know how the mine fire started?” … “Well, I know what has always been heard. I don’t know if it actually started that a-way. But uh, over in Straitsville, there’s a holler over there, they call ‘Lost Holler.’ It had a mine down in there. Uh, one of the miners and mine owner’s disagreements — a bunch of the miners loaded up a car of coal — and, it was pretty much a bank mine…”

3:38 “Terrill was born near Gore, my boys / A place you all know well
Brought up by honest parents / The truth to you I’ll tell
Brought up by honest parents / And proved most tenderly
Till Terrill become a roving boy which proved dishonesty”

4:40 “My parents are gone. And after my dad died — my mom died first — and after my dad died, I wasn’t quite ready for… the feeling of being an orphan. And something about being in an area that is familiar to you, that reminds you of your childhood, reminds of you carefree days, is comforting. I don’t know how else to say it, it’s just comforting. It’s home.”

5:26 “It’s pretty definitely accepted that the miners poured oil on a loaded car of coal, set it on the tipple when they had that strike and pushed it down the slope and it coasted a-way back in the mine and caught the seam on fire. There’s apparently no doubt about that. Uh, one of the men that helped perform that act, after he’d seen what he had done, he said he never got it off his mind. It troubled him all his life, to think he was a party to the ruination of that, uh…”

6:30 “I found like a squirrel skeleton of a head. Its head was like the skeleton of its head. And we found like what looked like Egyptian writings on this wood. He said the beetles did it, and I was like… how? And we found these gigantic rocks probably bigger than him. And we found really cool plants. And there were some plants that were like the buds were as soft as paintbrushes, and some were yellow. And we found a lot of cool plants and stuff. I enjoyed going that way.”

7:25 “It’s just the enormity of the thing. And uh how many friends, almost every man in there was a friend of mine. There were a few that I was more acquainted with than others but some of those people that I grew up with and went to school and played with and worked with and everything and it was just hard to realize that they were gone.”

8:20 “I go to the woods to recharge. I go to the forest. I think it is fascinating to look down and see the minutiae and feel big, and then look up and see the vastness and feel small without ever moving. I think it’s just a really great place to be. It connects me with my past and brings me to the present.”

9:13 “May third. I’m going to ask my grandma questions of the olden days. Um, grandma, in the mines, do you know how many people died? Um, do you know anybody that was in the mines? Um, can you tell me three people? Can you name ‘em?”

10:10 “I think the forest is what brought everybody together. You know, whether you don’t see eye to eye on the way the land is used, or whatever it may be, everybody has a connection with the land. And everybody has their own story here. So, no matter the differences I think everybody is connected in a similar way, and it’s the forest.”

11:05 “You know, when you look at public land, it’s no secret, you know, people are pretty divided today. But this is something that both sides of the political spectrum agree on. This is something that everyone can use, and it’s good for everybody! I feel like it’s such a thing that can unite so many different factions, uh, that otherwise may not agree on many things right now.”

12:00 “But of course eventually, mining towns being what they are, and how they’re situated and everything, as far as work and living is concerned, things get back to normal. The mines opened up again and started working, and eventually, gradually, why people begin to live normal lives. Miner’s lives, coal miner’s lives.”

released December 3, 2021
Musicians:
Jeremy Woodruff, Flute and Saxophone
Katie Porter Maxwell, Bass Clarinet
Aaron Michael Butler, Vibraphone
Brian Harnetty, Piano
Anna Roberts-Gevalt, Violin
Jocelyn Hach, Violin and Viola
Paul de Jong, Cello

A NOTE ON THE SAMPLES USED: The environmental field recordings throughout this piece are from the Wayne National Forest in Appalachian Ohio, and were made by Brian Harnetty. The sampled recordings of voices were made during numerous iterations of “listening rooms” with local Appalachian residents in the Wayne National Forest. Many thanks goes to the participants, and their shared stories and thoughts. All other recordings were used with permission from the Anne Grimes Collection at the Library of Congress, and the Little Cities of Black Diamonds Archive, Ohio.

Forest Listening Rooms was supported by a Fellowship for Socially Engaged Art and Contemplative Practices, from A Blade of Grass.

Mastering: Keith Hanlon, Secret Studio
Catalog #: WR009