Listening to the Land: A Morning at Finca de Osorio
Artist in Residence Blog – February
In the early hours of a February morning, I found myself standing in the stillness of Finca de Osorio, a protected natural area nestled in the heart of Gran Canaria. As an artist in residence, my focus was to explore sound—not just as something we hear, but as something we feel, something that holds meaning when we pause long enough to listen.
With my recording equipment in hand, I captured the soundscape unfolding around me: a layered tapestry of birdsong, wind whispering through ancient laurel trees, the distant crow of cockerels, vehicles and dogs, and the low, almost imperceptible hum of insects. It was a moment suspended in time, yet teeming with presence.
Finca de Osorio is more than a beautiful place—it is a living commitment to ecological conservation and sustainable land stewardship. The finca's mission to preserve native biodiversity and foster environmental education became deeply resonant during my time there. It challenged me to reflect on what it means to create art in a world where nature's abundance is no longer a given, but something fragile, finite, and increasingly lost.
Listening that morning wasn’t just an act of recording. It became a kind of witnessing. The sounds I captured are echoes of a balanced ecosystem—one that survives thanks to care, awareness, and deliberate protection. In this way, Finca de Osorio offered not only inspiration, but a quiet urgency: to honour the natural world not as a backdrop, but as a vital voice in our shared future.
As I return to the studio, these recordings will inform my next work. But more than that, they stay with me as a reminder—that sound, like nature, requires our attention. And that silence, when we choose to enter it, can reveal a richness we’ve forgotten how to hear.
In the early hours of a February morning, I found myself standing in the stillness of Finca de Osorio, a protected natural area nestled in the heart of Gran Canaria. As an artist in residence, my focus was to explore sound—not just as something we hear, but as something we feel, something that holds meaning when we pause long enough to listen.
With my recording equipment in hand, I captured the soundscape unfolding around me: a layered tapestry of birdsong, wind whispering through ancient laurel trees, the distant crow of cockerels, vehicles and dogs, and the low, almost imperceptible hum of insects. It was a moment suspended in time, yet teeming with presence.
Finca de Osorio is more than a beautiful place—it is a living commitment to ecological conservation and sustainable land stewardship. The finca's mission to preserve native biodiversity and foster environmental education became deeply resonant during my time there. It challenged me to reflect on what it means to create art in a world where nature's abundance is no longer a given, but something fragile, finite, and increasingly lost.
Listening that morning wasn’t just an act of recording. It became a kind of witnessing. The sounds I captured are echoes of a balanced ecosystem—one that survives thanks to care, awareness, and deliberate protection. In this way, Finca de Osorio offered not only inspiration, but a quiet urgency: to honour the natural world not as a backdrop, but as a vital voice in our shared future.
As I return to the studio, these recordings will inform my next work. But more than that, they stay with me as a reminder—that sound, like nature, requires our attention. And that silence, when we choose to enter it, can reveal a richness we’ve forgotten how to hear.