Sarah is a cellist, singer, and poet who explores our relationships with nature. She creates immersive performances blending live-looped cello, vocals, and poetry, inspired by direct experience with the environment - from Arctic glaciers to mossy peat bogs. Alongside collaborations with Greenpeace, COP26, and Yorkshire Wildlife Trust, she bridges art and science to highlight climate and ecological issues to inspire connection, wonder and hope.
In this guest blog, Sarah shares her recent work 'Bog Breathing'.
Bog Breathing
Bog Breathing is a creative response to experiencing Denton Moor alongside groups of people; leading writing workshops, taking sound recordings of the mosses on site, and learning about the site’s restoration and potential future through Yorkshire Peat Partnership’s restoration work and data collection. As the soundscape and poem unfolded, it became integral to tell a story of reciprocity with the land; one which invited people to be part of the future to the moor.
Denton Moor is a patchwork of data, history, timescales and potential. I wanted the work to reflect the site as place where lots of different voices intersect. The italic sections in the poem are a collection of data entries relating to the measurement of key indicators on the moor, and quotes from poets, community groups and school children who spent time on site with me. The visual design of the poem is inspired by data visualisations illustrating fluctuations in the site’s water table.
The cello and voice were recorded in the colloquially named “bog bothy” over two days and were all improvised. I had planned to use these improvisations to inspire recordings for a composition, but the more I worked on the project, the more it made sense to keep these improvisations as they were, held in time and place.
Babbling pops of sphagnum moss rhythmically accompany the improvisations. They were captured via a contact microphone which was probed into hummocks and pools across the site. This perspective on the plant world was a new discovery for me, and the sounds captured offer a stark contrast to the bleak and windswept stereotype of the uplands.
Much like the landscape in recovery, this soundscape is not a fully sculpted piece with a visible end point. It was breathed into existence collectively, gently nudged into being by the place and time we found ourselves in, and it will never be the same again.