Lit faintly by candlelight and by whatever remaining daylight could penetrate the opening, we recorded the various sections of The Boleigh Working live within the depths of Boleigh fogou itself. Ankle deep in mud and cold water, we played and listened as the fogou listened and played with us. The structure seemed to be alive, even if it was hard to forget that Boleigh means ‘the place of slaughter’.
The listener might hear odd noises in this recording which neither of us was responsible for producing: strange subterranean knockings and unexplained whirrings and whinings. It’s for the best, no doubt, that the voice of the woman (if that’s what she was) we both were convinced we’d heard down there, in the dark and the damp, whose spectral whispering caused the hairs on the back of our necks to stand up, wasn’t captured in any recognisable sense by the recording equipment.
So, be warned: this is Fougou ‘unplugged’, without effects or processing of any description; without even the comforting spark of mains electricity to light our way. We hope you enjoy listening as much as we enjoyed the immersive experience of the invocation.
You can download the album here.