In September, I traveled to Cádiz and Tangier to record the interferences created by Spanish and Moroccan radio stations broadcasting on the same frequencies of the Strait of Gibraltar.
I made field recordings of the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea colliding, the strong winds that shape the landscapes on both shores, and the night sounds of both cities. Using self-made radio receivers, I captured overlapping AM and FM signals to create a soundscape of the 14 kilometers that separate the two continents.
[0:00 - 2:10]
The program begins with recordings made with a radio receiver, where we can hear the frequencies from Morocco and Spain mixing and interfering with each other.
[2:10 - 6:06]
From there, we move on to listen to the Mediterranean (gentle and calm), and then the Atlantic (raging), recordings made on the island of Tarifa. Meanwhile, we can hear Albeniz’s “Rumores de la Caleta.”
[6:06 - 13:28]
We then move on to Cadiz, its squares full of children, its corners full of people at night, its taverns and fry shops full of good tapas and lots of noise. We hear some Bulerías de Cadiz and some Alegrías, with lyrics that tell us about the city and the strait.
[13:28 - 20:50]
After our tour of Cádiz, we head to the mountains of Tarifa, sadly reduced to ashes this summer of 2025, where I try to portray something that defines the landscape and superstitions of both shores: the Levante wind. Enraged, it violently shakes the branches of the trees that remain standing, the bells of the last herds searching for pastures that the fire did not destroy, and moves the large blades of the windmills that have recently been placed in this landscape, which we can hear through the vibrations they generate in their metal bodies.
[20:50 - 25:13]
We use an open wave receiver to capture atmospheric storms, distant shortwave stations, and other interferences in these mountains.
[25:13 - 29:06]
We cross by ferry from Tarifa. In this part, we hear the reverberations of the waves against the boat, recorded with a special microphone. I decide to distort this sound, as these mere fourteen kilometers represent the crime of Europe, Frontex and its criminal laws.
[29:06 - end]
We arrive in Tangier and walk through its old medina and markets, listening to an Aita Jablia song (a typical genre from the north of Morocco). In the medina, we enter the Jewish cemetery and its synagogues, and listen to a recording from the 1950s of the Haketia Jews (Sephardim living in the city who preserved the Spanish language) singing songs preserved since the time of Al-Andalus. From the synagogue itself, we hear the muslim call to prayer, and as we go out to look for the mosque, we meet a blind man who recites fables and taps his cane from side to side. We listened to another Aita Jeblia song and wandered through the cafés at dusk, when the city began to shine, and from Café Hafa, with a glass of tea in hand, we contemplated the lights of Tarifa, Caños, and Conil, just as the regulars at this café contemplate them day after day, without understanding how, despite being so close, we continue to live with our backs turned on each other.
