Listen out for Lanny: can Max Porterβs mythic tale of a mulch-guzzler really be heard in this woodland?
Every sun-dappled object is an instrument as composer Dom Coyote and sound designers Elena PeΓ±a and Dave Price conjure trip-hop-inspired rhythms in the Mendips for a new stage adaptation
The woodland is stuck to our skin. Sound designers Elena PeΓ±a and Dave Price are hunched next to me, burying a microphone into mossy ground. Composer Dom Coyote is listening on headphones, crunching out a rhythm with his boot before shucking his shoes for a subtler sound. βItβs got to be socks off, Dom,β says Price. Coyote obliges, the balls of his feet soon covered in dead conifer needles. βDo you wish youβd had a pedicure now?β PeΓ±a asks.
Itβs a short drive from Bristol to this patch on the Mendip Hills, where pine cones and rowan berries scatter at the entrance to the trees. Weβre on the hunt for sounds to orchestrate a staging of Max Porterβs novel Lanny. The adaptation by Somerset-based Bea Roberts moves the spectral story of a lost boy and a mulch-guzzling creature from commuting-distance-to-London to commuting-distance-to-Bristol, with director Nancy Medina wanting the showβs sound to exist within the cityβs historical music scene. βA kind of trip-hop world,β says Coyote, who is exploring this idea by replacing electronic beats with those of the natural world. βSo we need to go and play the forest.β Every sun-dappled object becomes an instrument. Up on his feet, Price tests out a rhythm on a deep-timbred trunk. He points to the tree. βAny notes for the snare drum department?β
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Β© Photograph: Courtesy Dom Coyote

Β© Photograph: Courtesy Dom Coyote

Β© Photograph: Courtesy Dom Coyote