≾ Brendan Perry's studio Quivvy Church ≿
Quivvy Studio is installed in a renovated church, originally built in 1855, which Brendan purchased in 1993. "The church was put on the market because of a dwindling Protestant congregation," he explains. "It is situated in an oxbow just south of the river Erne, which forms part of the present-day border with Northern Ireland. I used to get regular daily visits from British Army Chinook helicopters patrolling the border." Fortunately, with the border between north and south now a more relaxed environment, only the occasional tractor disturbs the peace inside the studio.
Brendan's reasons for developing Quivvy were a combination of the creative and financial: "I was horrified by the amount of money that record companies paid out to studios to record their artists — who, in turn, would see no profits until they had at least paid back the recording debt through record sales. The solution for me was to take the money that would have been paid to a studio and invest it in my own studio. This in turn would give me more creative control and ensure that I would see the profits from record sales sooner."
Unsurprisingly, however, the building needed considerable work before it could be turned into a functional recording space. "The church was in good condition structurally, but had no amenities," says Brendan. "To provide a water supply, a spring had to be bored about 150 feet through the limestone rock before plumbing could be installed. I had 80 percent of the plaster removed from the cut stone walls to improve the general acoustics. With my parents' help, we constructed a gallery at the opposite end from the altar to form a control room. I have always liked the layout of old radio-style studios, where the control room looks down onto the recording area, affording greater visibility and acoustic isolation."
A problem that most studio designers don't have to face was a resident colony of long-eared bats, who would regularly spend the night covering the church contents with droppings. "I was loth to get rid of them on ecological grounds, as they are a protected species," says Brendan. "I came back one night from the pub with a few friends, worse the wear for drink, and we played Led Zeppelin at full tilt into the wee hours. The next morning I awoke to discover the problem solved. The majority of the bats had fled, and about 15 or so lay lifeless at the base of the walls — which I can only deduce they must of flown headlong into, their ability to navigate by way of sonic imaging being confused by Bonham and company's wall of sound!"
The biggest problems concerned humidity, dust and maintaining an even temperature for the equipment. The heating of this building alone is an epic undertaking, requiring no less than 14 double concentric radiators, each 10 feet long, and an industrial boiler large enough to heat a small factory. Many of these problems could have been resolved by subdividing the space into more manageable sizes, but Brendan decided that this would destroy the ambience and acoustics — the very things that made it such a special environment to work in. "The acoustics at Quivvy would certainly not suit someone who prefers to work in an anechoic setting. It is a very live space that has its own set of limitations as well as advantages. The obvious limitation is lack of separation between instruments that have a lot of high-frequency dynamic energy, such as a typical rock band might produce. For acoustic solo recordings and vocals it is exceptional, though, providing several natural room settings in different parts of the church."
With fabulous natural light through the stained glass windows in the live recording space, the inside of the studio has a wonderful atmosphere — a more 'stress-free' recording location is hard to imagine.
This is the place Dead Can Dance record their albums.
