BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
A bit over an hour south of Hobart lies the natural, rugged wonder of the Tasman Peninsula. The landscape is at once beautiful and rough, surrounded by coastlines of fractured rock and hidden caves that allow water and light to glisten through. The region is fraught with dense forest as well as dark convict history — and, under a brighter sky, secluded beaches.
It was this remote part of lutruwita/Tasmania that inspired Meredith Beardmore to craft her new solo album. She spent time in an artist retreat (pictured below), and immersed herself in the environment that enveloped it.
We spoke to the Naarm/Melbourne-based composer and instrumentalist about her music depicting her impressions of the peninsula, and how she used field recordings and flute to create an atmosphere as unique as the place itself.
What drew you to the Tasman Peninsula?
An opportunity presented itself first, really! The Tasman Cottage Artist Retreat hosts a number of artists each year across all mediums. I saw it and was immediately intrigued. I had visited the peninsula before and thought, ‘Wow, imagine creating a work about the Tessellated Pavement. What would that sound like?’. And so I applied.
I went in September 2024, just prior to my first solo album release Scribbly Gums. It was perfect timing, really: I was stuck in logistics/admin mode and really just needed to get back into create mode.
I was also a relatively new mum, and this retreat was the first prolonged stay away from my daughter. I originally felt guilty for going but it ended up being a really reaffirming experience. I suppose that’s why we have artist retreats!
What were some of the field recordings you collected, which you included in your tracks?
In about half of the tracks, field recordings are featured or take an equal footing with the flute. A big part of my retreat was to simply exist in the various locations around the peninsula, listen carefully, and just soak it in.
An early morning walk I did along the Waterfall Bay walking track became the grounding for that track. For Loaf + Pan, the sounds of the ocean at the Tessellated Pavement (pictured below) became one of the voices. Pebbles is me being playful with pebbles I found at the Tessellated Pavement.
In The Convict Coal Mines, the field recording became the focus with very minimal flute disruptions. I wanted to keep that one sparse and eerie because that was the predominant feeling I got from the place. And with Dusk at Descent Beach, I feel like the field recording creates a wash for the flute to play around in.
The music presents almost a literal interpretation of these icons of the peninsula. For example, in Remarkable Cave, you’ve used certain instruments to create the hollow passage of the blowhole, and the shimmering textures of water flowing through. How did you decide which sounds would be the right choices to depict these natural elements?
For half the album, I used just instrumental voices to try and capture a specific landmark. At that point, I hadn’t really tried to incorporate other instrumentalists into my work. I was creating music for me to play, so I was restricted to what sounds I could make. How could I make a single flute voice expansive? So the cave became a type of flute choir, and although the voices are pretty static, the subtle shifts make you listen in a different way. Then for the hollow passage, well, that’s when the mystical flute siren gets to shine! That felt like more familiar flute territory.
While some of the tracks feel very connected to the flute and to my playing, I did try to push myself outside of the familiar by just holding an idea for longer than felt comfortable, for example, in Dolerite Columns. That certainly doesn’t feel like a flute piece.
Tell me a bit about your experience and the feelings that ran through you when you were creating music about Port Arthur. This track moves beyond the environmental side of the album, and connects with the darker human history of the region.
Absolutely. I think places carry memory in ways we can’t always easily explain. The whole of the peninsula is incredibly stark and beautiful; the sky, sea, and rock really do take up most of your view most of the time.
Port Arthur has a particular stillness about it. I was imagining how it must have felt to be imprisoned in such a beautiful place at the other end of the world with that endless view of sky and sea; would it still be beautiful? So this track is probably the most tuneful and possibly leans more into my folk music practice than anything else on the album.
How did your relationship with the Tasman Peninsula, and your impressions, change or grow after you finished crafting this music and spending so much time with the feelings of these places?
I became more aware of the contrasts and nuances — expansive and detailed, still yet mighty and majestic. Part of that was the beautiful environment, but part was dedicated time to be slow. I feel like life is a bit fast sometimes, and I don’t always feel and hear the elements.
The experience confirmed to me that places have their own unique sonic signatures. For instance, Descent Beach does not sound like the Queensland beaches I grew up with! It also made me aware of the layers of human activity that impact a sense of place, and how an individual’s interpretation of a place may be completely different to someone else’s experience.
I bring all my experiences and memories to mingle with that place. Perhaps if I go back and make another Tasman Peninsula album in 30 years’ time, it’ll sound different again. Or perhaps not.
Your practice is varied, from historically informed performance to entirely new and original projects like this one. How does your knowledge of HIP inform your performance of today’s music?
There are two aspects to it: the instrument — and then the musical ideas, which also happen to fit really well with the instrument!
When I first changed over to historical flutes, I really did just play the music from the time at which they were designed. That immersion was really important. But I don’t play the Boehm flute anymore, and found I had other musical itches to scratch. At the end of the day, historical flute is my musical voice, so why not use it to explore these other aspects of my musical imagination?
I also realised that historically that probably happened too, and is kind of evidenced by the use of simple system flutes in Celtic and folk traditions.
The second aspect, the HIP/baroque ideas, I think they emerge and expand in my original music in a variety of ways: through the ideas of gesture and rhetoric to create nuanced, intimate conversation, to the focus on the oral/improvisatory: how can I capture an idea that allows for variation according to who’s playing and yet still be true to the idea?
Tell us a little bit about the types of flute you play on this album and why you appreciate this timbre.
Just prior to the retreat, I received my new Buffardin flute by maker Martin Wenner, made from boxwood and pitched at A= 415hz. This particular model was only rediscovered in 2015 — a flute based on a model made by famous baroque flute player Pierre-Gabriel Buffardin (ca. 1690–1768). I really love this flute! It balances a mellow buzziness with clarity, strength and facility. So it features on some tracks.
In many of the other tracks, I’ve played on a different one-keyed flute that I happen to have in A= 440hz, which is particularly useful when playing with non-HIP instruments. Some low whistle appears as well, and some very interesting and out-of-tune piano also features!
These flutes — and the whistle too — are very tactile. The absence of keys means that while perhaps there is not the evenness across the range of a Boehm flute, there is a lot of colour and nuance, and lots of opportunity to experiment with pitch.
Is there anything else you’d like to share about the new release?
A big thanks to Made Now Music! Based in my hometown of Brisbane, they release an incredible array of honest, exploratory music — more important and vital than ever.
Listen to Meredith Beardmore’s new album The Long Blue Horizon on her website.
Images supplied. Meredith captured by Celeste de Clario Davis.
Tessellated Pavement by By Felix Andrews (Floybix) – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0.
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