Amberfern is a composer of meditative healing music and lives and works in the heart of England’s New Forest National Park. He has spent over thirty years in the music industry. In addition to composing and production, he has taught music widely and founded a significant international music organization that has won major business awards. He is also author of several music books and some 200 magazine articles, has a degree in cultural studies and is currently completing a PhD. The artist name Amberfern comes from the ferns that grow throughout the nearby ancient forest woodlands, and in the autumn turn a golden amber colour.
Music has always been an encompassing passion, and Amberfern has been a full-time professional musician since 1978. He originally commenced his recording career writing and producing music beds for television commercials in the early 1980s. He plays and composes for an increasingly wide variety of instruments including assorted types of guitars, basses, piano, keyboards, synthesizers, drums, percussion, ethnic flute and hang drum, together with a growing number of unusual and evocative world instruments.
Work Methods
Amberfern works from “The Green Room”, his forest studio, which is equipped to professional standards, and from which his music progresses through composition and writing to completed master recordings for licensing, release and international distribution. He generally works alone, enjoying the flexibility of being able to work calmly, slowly and expressively within his own rural studios, using technology to send the work around the world as required. Whilst this demonstrates a clear benefits in the use of technology, Amberfern contends that it must not be allowed to overwhelm or smother nature, and believes that there is a need for both “computers and campfires” and that, in musicmaking, a balance must be sought between the use of machines and the natural rhythms and sounds of nature.
In the spirit of this, Amberfern will often leave technology aside and integrate ethnic instruments with organic field recordings of sounds from environmental sources into his compositional spaces to evoke liquid essences of mysterious landscapes, with the intention of projecting listeners into unusual, exotic places as they bathe in the music. Although new and experimental in approach, Amberfern’s music benefits greatly from the structuring influences of jazz composition, making it appealing, accessible and easy for a wide cross-section of the public to engage with and enjoy.
Living in a forest, Amberfern naturally considers nature to be the supreme audio resource, and will often use organic field-recorded waveforms as starting points for musical sounds, which are meticulously blended with analogue synthesis to evoke specific tonal colours and reactions. He terms this sound-design technique “electronic ecology”, a blurring of the boundaries between music and environmental natural sounds. He believes that this combination holds a key to provoking strong emotional responses from listeners, as they gently wrap themselves around the resulting unique sonic colours that fuse into the completed musical pieces. The music is always intended to function as aural dream-texts and visions of possible worlds with which to bridge time and geographical location, trigger distant memories or connections and become a healing tonic for the soul.
A primary creative influence is that of landscape, and Amberfern will on occasions compose out in the field in distant locations with simple musical recording tools on an Apple iPad to try to capture the simple essence and immediacy of a landscape in front of him, in much the same way that an impressionistic painter will work. These sound sketches are then taken back to the Green Room for development. An example of this technique in action is the track Paleokastritas from the Quiescence: A World at Peace album, which started life on location on the Island of Corfu in Greece.
Amberfern Interview (for press use)
What are your musical influences?
That’s a very good question, and I could give a very long and boring answer because they are genuinely many and varied, but to try to be concise, on the one hand I enjoy the work of artistes such as Brian Eno, and especially his series of ambient albums from the late seventies which many consider invented the genre. On the other hand, I am influenced by an increasingly wide range of world music musicians. Overall it’s really the tonal colour and specific mood that really gets me interested in something, as opposed to the work of a specific musical personality.
I hear quite a lot of piano in your compositions. Is this intentional?
Not really, I simply tend to use the piano as an initial structuring device for compositions, especially if I am working on something that has a chordal structure, because I can try out melody lines against chords and see what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes these early experiments make it to the final mix, sometimes they don’t. There’s really no master plan to specifically include any individual instrument actually, I just try to choose what seems to advance my sound painting in the most appropriate way at the time. What I really love is having the freedom to experiment, but I must confess that I do like the organicness of a grand piano. I have a really old London-made Cramer in my music studio. What’s great in these days of technology is that you can just walk in the studio door, sit down at a piano and doodle without having to plug something in, switch an amplifier on, choose a sound and so on. It’s a great “go-to” instrument when inspiration strikes!
Are there any pianists that have influenced you?
Well now you mention it, there is one in particular that stands out, and that’s Eric Satie. In many ways he was the founder of the ambient tradition and a hundred years or so ago, created some beautiful, sparse and simple piano arrangements that have really stood the test of time in my opinion. For Satie, it wasn’t about unnecessary ornamentation or virtuoso playing, but more about developing a particular mood. I really like that concept and its something that I have tried to develop in my own work.
There are huge range of instruments on your work. What do you like to use?
I enjoy the mood that a wooden flute creates, and I have a maker in England (Red Kite Flutes) who crafts beautiful Native American flutes for me which often find their way onto my recordings. Recently we worked together to develop a unique Arabian flute, which I have been using recently. The scale is really evocative and exotic. I also have a Japanese Shakuhachi flute that I absolutely love.
I tend to collect instruments that I find beautiful and beneficial to my music. In these days of sampling and computer technology, I still value and enjoy the feel and vibrations of the real instrument and I find that I approach it in a very different way to a simulated recreation of the same thing on a synthesiser, however good it may be. Recently, I restored a very old Japanese koto, brought an Egyptian oud, (which is the forerunner of the lute) back to life and, as we talk, I’m awaiting the delivery of an elderly 36-string lever harp that’s coming all the from a tiny island called Orkney, north of Scotland.
Do you use synthesisers too?
Yes, and I enjoy them and have a few carefully chosen ones. The ones I like are covered in knobs that I can twist to sculpt and blend sounds. In particular, synthesisers like this are wonderful for adding washes of sound colour to my music. An artist will often paint a soft wash of the sky to begin a picture and set a mood. I tend to develop a similar soft wash of sound on one of my synthesisers that functions as much the same thing. Rather like the artist, sometimes that coloursound wash may make it to the final piece of work, on other occasions I will vary it by filtering out certain frequencies or blending organic filed recordings with it to give it some movement and interest. It’s a bit like introducing some gentle clouds drifting across a clear sky.
Talking of visual artists, I understand that you often work out on location just like they do. Can you tell me more about that. It sounds really unusual for a musician?
I suppose it is, but to me it’s a completely natural thing to do. I’m very influenced by sights and sounds, and love to try to capture the essence or mood that a particular place evokes. I’ve developed a sort of portable travelling recording studio that I take out with me. It consists of a very tiny laptop computer called a MacBook Air, onto which my “digital tape recorder” software is loaded, and a very small piano keyboard. I’ll sometimes use an Apple iPad too. Anyway, my diminutive little computer contains a palette of some of my favourite inspirational sounds, from which I can capture a few initial tracks... a sketch really of what I can see and feel at the time. I literally look at the scene in front of me and compose. I call it soundsketching. I will also often record the natural ambience of the location.... it might be the sound of the sea, wind in the trees, even the distant hub-bub of people talking, things going by, a church bell chiming in the distance. These things sometimes make it to the finished piece to add authentic atmosphere to the work. Before I leave the location, I will write a few lines of text about the place and take some photographs and sometimes a short video too.
What sort of things do you add when you get these soundsketches back to your forest studio in England?
Often I’ll re-record some of the instruments using the real thing as opposed to digital recreations. However, I’ve found that on a number of occasions, elements of the sketched idea have a particular resonance or lovely feel that is quite indefinable, and in those situations, even if the playing isn’t perfect or the particular sound perfectly recorded, I will leave it because I think that the mood created should have primacy over everything else to quite a large extent. The inspiration from these on-location moments can be fleeting and fragile and I think they need to be preserved as they have a unique resonance somehow. I try to maintain at least a modicum of the essence of the place I visited by playing back my photos and videos in slideshows in my studio on a big widescreen TV. This works just enough to recreate the original vibe, and, of course, if I don’t have the opportunity to get out into a particularly far-flung location that I want to capture in music, then this is the strategy for inspiration that I adopt in the studio when starting work on a new piece.
Turning to the new album, Quiescence - A World at Peace, what was your inspiration for the album concept?
Well, the media seem to enjoy continuously indicating and insisting that we increasingly live in a world that is hectic, fast, capitalistic, angry and aggressive, and indeed the television news almost seem to take delight in reporting many dreadful things that seem to be happening right across the globe on a daily basis. We are being encouraged to believe that the world has somehow intrinsically gone bad, and this seems to be negatively affecting everyone’s perception of life on the planet. However, whilst there are certainly bad things occurring and probably always will be, there are equally many, many beautiful things happening. Sadly these don’t get reported. The fact is that in myriad places across our beautiful world, serenity, silence, peace, contemplation and natural wonder can still be found in absolute abundance. Underneath the noise of daily human surface existence around the globe, there exists an almost sacred and rather spiritual stillness; a quietness... a quiescence. I have tried to seek out this quiescence and use musical elements from all corners of the globe to attempt to communicate and convey its soft and all-too-fleeting beauty. My intention was focused on trying to help listeners to at least recognise the existence of this global quiescence, perhaps even to begin to get in touch with it and, through the music, bathe in a little of its beauty... and recognise that underneath the swirl of everyday existence there really is a world at peace waiting to be discovered. If the album is able to act as something of a tantalising half-open doorway for listeners to at least peep into that underlying peace, then I will certainly feel that I have achieved something worthwhile.
Album Background Information
Influences Behind the Tracks on Quiescence - A World at Peace
Here, Amberfern reveals his influences and the specific intention behind each track on the album. Reading while listening can brings the listener closer to the music and seems to add another dimension to the enjoyment of Quiescence - A World at Peace.
Misty Harbour
Outside of the open doors beyond the balcony, the harbour below is singularly silent. An early morning mist softens the distant landscape and diffuses the light, making the pine-clad hills appear an unusually soft powder blue. Nothing moves. Above, the Mediterranean sun tries to shine through the haze, smudging the sky with pale yellow. Now and again it succeeds in it's quest and, for the briefest fleeting instant, scatters sparkling clusters of diamonds onto the surface of the smooth harbour waters below.
Magharibi
We sit at sunset on the African plains, surrounded by a dozen musicians in brightly coloured clothes. The rich, amber glow of the fading evening light fires their faces, as one by one they begin to play. The sound is at once mesmerising as first ethnic marimba and then wooden flutes, percussion and drums weave, combine and develop into a spellbinding soundscape that engulfs the senses. We close our eyes and let the music cleanse and empty our minds until all that is left is the hypnotic and beautiful swaying rhythms and the absolute now of the present moment... the moment of the sunset, or as they say here, the magharibi.
Undercurrents
On the surface of the deep blue pool, the undercurrents swirl and twist the waters creating movement and unrest, yet just a little way below the surface, the waters become still, cool and peaceful. Looking into the pool it becomes clear that life itself is just the same. On the surface, our day to day existence is often full of unrest and problems, but underneath, our minds are still and clear. All that's needed is for us to swim just below the surface of life to reach the peace that lies deep within.
Lights on Water
On a distant island in the Pacific, the warm evening gradually gives way to a sultry summer night. As the waves gently lap the white sandy shoreline and the breeze sways the palm trees, bright yellow lights along the old wooden jetty begin reflecting on the azure waters. Soft music drifts towards us from under the thatched roof and the table is set ready with food and wine in preparation for some enchanted evening.
Paleokastritsas
The hot day is done and it is sunset on the Greek island of Corfu at Paleokastritsas, where the beautiful cypress-clad mountainsides meet the warm turquoise seas of the Mediterranean. We sit at a small beachside taverna, bathed in the warm, golden glow of the sun as it sinks gently into the sea, firing the ripples and the wispy clouds above in mesmerizing hues that range from deep orange to the most delicate and exquisite dusky pinks. In front of us the sandy horseshoe bay is almost deserted now, save for a herd of small white goats that browse the shoreline, searching for anything that the hot day may have left behind. The goat bells around their necks create a meditative, soft melody against the lapping waves. A couple of old Greek fisherman stand on the sand almost silhouetted, their conversation drifting across the beach and their shadows lengthening as the sun slips deep into the amber sea. Behind us, as the warm evening draws in, the taverna gradually comes to life.
Flowers in the Air
Laying down on the grass, the soft scent of a warm English summer meadow engulfs the senses. The warm sun is soothing and the clear blue sky is endless. Gradually, by degrees it seems increasingly difficult to remember anything at all; problems, cares and concerns melt away in the summer sun. On the verge of sleep, through half-closed eyes, the flowers sway slowly above as if suspended in the air, and from somewhere deep inside the delicious daydream, the soft, gentle wash of a voice rises and falls. Then, from somewhere that seems far, far away, a piano and an exotic flute touch the senses to create absolute peace.
Bedouin Sunrise
As the first rays of the desert sun touch the deep red silk interior of the Bedouin tent, the notes of a distant and exotic flute filter gently through the warm dawn air. The half-open tent flap permits a shaft of golden light to enter, and outside a Bedouin tribesman is silhouetted with two of his "ships of the night". He watches the desert sunrise in silent contemplation, allowing the soft, gentle music together with the sun's first rays to wash over him, inducing a atmosphere of absolute peace and tranquility.
Dharmasala
The peaks of the Himalayas rise above us, and a slow and exotic music drifts out from the village below and up through the pines towards us. Spellbound, we watch the colours changing on the landscape. The sound of shakuhachi flutes blend with huge ancient drums a koto and ethereal voices, which together call out across the tranquility of the scene to the distant misty mountains beyond.
Clear Skies
A late summer dawn breaks over the peaceful English fishing cove of Beer on the Devon coast. A chorus of singing seagulls herald the first light and a gentle wind blows in off the sea to flutter through yesterday's striped deck chairs that lay in haphazard lines on the pebble beach. A solitary fisherman walks slowly down towards the shoreline, his feet crunching on the pebbles as he makes his way to a small, blue and white fishing boat that's beached lopsided at the water's edge. Climbing a ladder, he starts making ready for launch. Presently he walks back up the beach towards the boat winch, his weatherbeaten face upturned and scanning the the heavens, hoping for a day of clear skies.
Ayuba Aye
An African sunset scorches the evening sky. Gradually the remaining clouds pull back to reveal a velvety, black clear night sky studded with thousands of stars. It is majestic as we look up, and increasingly feels more and more awe-inspiring. The realisation dawns that that we part of something infinite and that, whatever we feel about ourselves, whatever our troubles, desires, successes, failures or achievements that seem so important today and during our short time on earth, our individual lives can only contribute the tiniest specks in the huge and limitless universe that surrounds us all, and that's for sure, or Ayuba Aye as they seem to say around these parts.
Art of Serenity
Winter cometh, and the world is in white. In the tiny village, the frosty snow glistens in the comforting golden light that shines from the windows of the cottages that surround the church. From inside, music escapes out into the serene and still winter's night. The sound of soft bells ring sweetly, and presently a boys choir sing out, lending the village a festive ambience that heralds the approaching season.