One Step Back, Everyone!
2025/ 93 min
Field Recordings



Zoom H6
Manuel Antonio National Park, 25th November 2024

Full Album Stream︎︎︎


Manuel Antonio National Park, located on the west coast of Costa Rica, has become one of the most popular tourist destinations in the country. In an environment that harbors immense biodiversity, visitors can easily encounter monkeys, sloths, or large iguanas—species that, in some cases, are endemic to the region. Its location facing the Pacific Ocean adds a unique appeal, as it combines the exploration of a protected environment with the possibility of enjoying a relaxing swim at one of its easily accessible beaches.

With the aim of promoting tourism and responding to growing demand, the government has recently implemented measures that increased the daily capacity for visiting the park from 1,800 to 2,500 people. However, this decision was made without a technical study to assess its impact. This initiative could lead to adverse side effects, such as trail erosion that affects the surrounding vegetation, the risk of garbage accumulation, the potential alteration of local species’ behavioral patterns due to interactions with visitors, or the degradation of the ecosystem caused by the strain on existing infrastructure.

This issues become evident during certain times of the year when the park experiences significant congestion in many of its areas, especially due to the massive influx of organized groups. What might initially be conceived as a tranquil outing occasionally turns into an experience akin to visiting an overly crowded monument in any major popular city. The soundscape becomes overshadowed by human interference: groups of up to 30 people walk the trails with Nordic walking poles, large cameras whose shutters fire in rapid bursts, and tour guides loudly recounting anecdotes about the flora, fauna, and Costa Rica in general in multiple languages.

It was in this context that One step back, everyone! emerged- a field recording project that seeks to reflect on the implications of mass tourism in protected natural spaces. Through this initiative, I position myself as just another agent within the location, incorporating my own footsteps, my breathing, the rubbing of the recorder on my chest and even brief interactions with my partner as part of the acoustic narrative. I do not try to hide the inherent contradictions of my own presence in the space; on the contrary, I make them explicit. I am there, too. Although I try to walk less-traveled paths with my local companion and enter the park as an independent visitor, I am no different from the group that has just arrived through a tour operator.

For this reason, I begin my route trying to block judgment, which, due to its habitual incontinence, doesn't take long to be released as I carefully observe the behavior of certain visitors. Of all the scenes I witness, one particularly captures my attention: dozens of people crowd, push, or try to outmaneuver each other in order to get a better view of a sloth almost lying on the ground, probably disoriented (or so I inferred from a distance). This situation prompts a reprimand from one of the private guides, visibly upset, who, in an imperative tone and appealing to the symbolic authority conferred by his role, insists on asking the visitors to stop harassing the animal.

One step back!
One step back, ok?
One step back!
One step back, please!
One more step back.
Sorry, once again, one step back, everyone!
One step back.
One step back, I mean, I mean, everyone!
One step back.

This scene illustrates a disturbing dynamic: for most of those present, capturing a digital memory of the moment seems to take precedence over any consideration for the animal’s well-being or respect for the environment. The image of this mammal, practically motionless beside an overcrowded trail and acting as a magnet for tourists behaving impulsively and aggressively, is a powerful metaphor for our priorities.

The long-duration piece documents the time we spent walking the park’s trails, interrupted only by cuts made during moments of rest at two of its beaches. Its final presentation has not been edited, manipulated, or merely equalized to smooth the low end, with the aim of offering a subjective and immersive experience.

The exclamatory tone of the title, beyond what might seem like a simple demand, aims to invite reflection on our relationship with the environment and the ways in which we choose to travel. What does it mean to be tourists in natural spaces? How do our actions, both individual and collective, impact these fragile environments?

This project is formally distinct from what was proposed in Outside Recordings vol. 1: Iceland, but it is guided by the same intuition: exploring other ways of approaching and documenting the experience of inhabiting natural spaces. However, it is rooted in a painful certainty: my presence, far from contributing positively, inevitably exacerbates the very problem I aim to address.