Their songs are everywhere, but few seem to notice: The mating calls of frogs can be heard year-round across Taiwan, whether in the forests of Nantou County or the dense urban sprawl of Yonghe City.
Such amorous noises tend to get buried in the commotion of daily life or perhaps taken for granted in nature areas, but a recording by sound artist Yannick Dauby has shone an audio spotlight on the country’s frogs.
In the summer Dauby released Songs of the Frogs of Taiwan, Volume 1 (蛙蛙哇), which documents the sounds of 16 of the country’s 32 endemic frog species. The French national, who is currently based in Taipei, has been compiling recordings on trips around Taiwan since 2004.
With detailed liner notes on each species, photos and an introduction by Yang Yi-ru (楊懿如), Taiwan’s foremost expert on frogs, this 68-minute compilation will appeal to nature lovers, conservationists and amphibian experts. Dauby, a self-professed amphibian enthusiast, hopes to draw attention to Taiwan’s ecology, but he also has a simpler view of the project.
“For me, this is really a CD of music,” he said with a laugh during an interview just after releasing Songs in July. “It’s really for the pleasure.”
Calling it music might be a stretch for some, but what Dauby has captured is certainly pleasing to the ear, and is presented in an engaging format. The compilation’s wide diversity of sounds will surprise those who think of frogs as capable of only croaks
and “ribbits.”
Many of the sounds on the CD could be mistaken for other animals. The Meintein Temple Treefrog (面天樹蛙) lets out a chirpy whistle similar to a cricket, while the Indian Ricefield Frog (澤蛙) squawks like a duck and Guenther’s Brown Frog (貢德氏赤蛙) barks like a dog.
Some frogs produce unusual noises that sound man-made. LaTouche’s Frog (拉都希氏赤蛙) croaks like a creaky door; the Taipei Treefrog (台北樹蛙), which I’ve been hearing a lot this winter outside of my apartment in Muzha (木柵), makes a high-pitched noise that sounds like an engine revving from far away, occasionally switching to a series of slow, puckering kisses.
The CD was inspired by Dauby’s self-professed love of nature and the outdoors, cultivated during his upbringing near the French Alps. But its production was driven by his main occupation, sound art.
NATURE AS SOUND ART
Much of Dauby’s work involves recording natural “soundscapes,” which can range from abstract noises to social events. His past projects have included aural collages using bird songs; digital compositions made from recordings on a glacier in Switzerland; and an “audio documentary” featuring a portrait photographer interacting with his two subjects, a woman and her dog. He is currently working on a sound archive project for the Chiayi County Government, recording everything from the noises of antique machines to oral history.
Dauby developed a fascination with sound as a musicology student in university, where he studied field recording techniques using portable equipment and microphones. His earliest subjects were of wind and streams — sounds that attracted him because they had “lots of energy.” Later on, he finished an advanced degree in “electroacoustic composition” at the National Conservatory in Nice and he now curates a Web site devoted to sound art and the environment (kalerne.net).



