I’ve spent the last few days interviewing an art criminal just outside the town of El Golfo in Lanzarote, in the Canary Islands. (It’s for a series you’ll be able to hear sometime this summer, so if any of this sounds interesting to you stay tuned.) Tomorrow we’re flying to Dusseldorf. But I wanted to reflect a minute on this place.
It is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. Lanzarote is a volcanic island that’s been shaped by eruptions — fields of spiky, porous black rock studded with patches of green shrubby spurge that look like sheep. I’ve been taking pictures nonstop, but none of them convey how alien this island looks: it’s like being on another planet, or coming across a landscape you’ve only seen once in a dream. The cooled lava flows have solidified into totally inaccessible acres of rock that jut out into cliffs near the ocean. It’s only when you get close that you realize just how sharp these stones really are.
It doesn’t feel like there’s a lot of life here. Not too many living things can survive the heat, the wind, and the lack of fresh water. I’ve heard that that everything except for the wine made here has to be imported. (The farmers grow their grapes in special pits that feature windbreaks.)
When I’m not recording our subject, I’ve been trying to capture the sonic landscape here. It’s been difficult: the wind is incessant — allegedly from Morocco, which we’re just off the coast of — and I’m still learning how to listen through a microphone. Here are a few unedited recent attempts.
Nighttime, around 8:30pm:
The sound of a volcano field:
The Atlantic Ocean and the hiss of the waves as they recede over a rocky beach:
Anyway, it’s been tough (as I’m sure you can hear). But I feel like I’m learning, so there’s that. I’ll keep trying.
From the road,
Bijan