SOUND
SPACE
Class 4 –
Feb 26
*Assignment 1 Due!
We
explore how sound plays a critical role in defining space and how techniques
such as binaural recording emphasize the critical union between sound and
space. What is the difference between space
and place? Sound map show and tell.
FURNITURE
MUSIC:
READ:
· Excerpts from Janet Cardiff. The Walk Book. Walther Konig,
Koln, 2005. (not found)
· Aaron Ximm. Recording in the Field. www.quietamerican.org
· Iain Chambers. “The Aural Walk.” Audio Culture: Readings in
Modern Music. 2004. (class files)
· Michel De Certeau. “Spatial Stories.” The Practice of Everyday
Life. University of California, 1984.
LISTEN: (personal library)
FURTHER
EXPLORATIONS
- Quiet American, Field Recording Art Resources
- 6Villages: acoustic environments in change
- Acoustic Ecology: "works to increase personal and social awareness of our sound environment"
- Acoustic Space
- Acoustic.Space.Set: "a series of programmes that will include made sound works that are using the material gathered at the VIRAC radiotelescope in Irbene, Latvia"
- Earth Ear: environmental sound art galleries
- "Eavesdropping on America's National Parks," 8/23/05 NPR program
- "Geography and the Sound of Place," 11/14/04 NPR program
Links to sound walk project:
A sound map of places along the Columbia river, real and in memory.
-
Mapping Project:
I have been practicing soundwalks for a few months in preparation for my upcoming thesis. This
project for this class became an exercise for a larger project around narratives that swirl
around energy, the environment, and the Columbia river. Over thirty dams
populate the river, which begins in eastern Washington and drains into the
Pacific near the port of Astoria.
I wanted to capture the sounds of
the dams, the electrical grid, and the changing landscape of power and energy
in the area. The intention is create a portrait of the sound-place of this corridor of
activity. While the dams provide “clean” energy, the river has paradoxically
become a transport zone for new coal mines in Montana and Wyoming. Protest has
sprung up over the importation of the fuels throughout the region, and the
final sound in the series speaks to this. In the last piece I also used radio alerts and noise,
weaving them between excerpts from an interview with a former merchant marine
who speaks about environmental degradation and how that is connected to the shipping trade.
Notes on this weeks readings and listenings
Buildings-Furniture Music
Air
conditioning. Something that does not feature in my sense of sound and
architecture, but that for most of the industrialized world plays a role. The
sense of being inside a wind tunnel, the rattling of aluminum; a shell around
air.
Quiet American
3 Trains
This work
reminded me of John Cage’s comments regarding music and sound, as he sought to
remove the distinctions between the genres. The rhythmic interplay of the three
trains was accompanied by sounds of ringing, hissing and friction that were
inherently musical, and I could not distinguish the sources of the sound, which
continued to sound like gongs, guitars, and cymbals. The voices of the
Vietnamese floated through the piece like a small chorus ritually drowned out
by the orchestra of mechanized sound.
Stuck
The recording did
not relate to my own experience of waiting out storms, wherein there is often a
hushed quality and a lack of mechanical sounds because of a lack of power. Repeated
jump cuts of media rich sound give the recording of waiting in the storm a
clipped, mechanized quality. I was left wondering about the intention of the piece.
So often I expect sound works to be interpretive, or illustrative, while this
was not. Perhaps the piece is focused on a microscopic aspect of the storm
experience. It becomes about a momentary destabilization, a repetition of the glitching
of human activity that occurs when we are trapped.
Annapurna
This piece recalled
Gordon Hempton’s conception of silence. Annapurna is surely a place where
little noise from the industrial world can penetrate, and these recordings
attest to that reality. Ironically, there is little true silence on this piece,
and the ambient sound feels three dimensional around the narrator’s voice. Does
industrial sound cause a certain retraction and internalization of our sense of
sound? If the sounds that surrounded us consisted of voices, bells, bird calls
and water, would we feel ourselves becoming integrated into the fabric of the soundscape?
I felt this as I experienced the sounds of Annapurna.
I was
impressed with the variety of sound that the Ximms gathered: from a warped
Hindi tape to Yaks sleeping in the moonlight. Theirs was a very practiced approach to phonography.
Her Long Black Hair
We are led on
an outward journey that is at the same time an inward journey, expressed in the
metaphor of one foot back and one foot forward, as the narrator says, we are never
at home in the present. A here and a there, according to Certeau. The story starts
and stops as if the narrator begins to remember pieces in the telling, yet this
work has an overwhelmingly pedantic quality. She is in control, and in control
of us. We are told what to see, think, and even what to do. Still, what we are
told to do is often a surprise- like walking backwards. In this case, is the
foot that was going towards the future being dragged into the past? I remember
a Japanese friend telling me that walking backwards with your eyes closed is a
cure for insomnia. This piece has the opposite effect, despite its dips into
reverie I feel I am being led into wakefulness. But whose wakefulness? The
narrator’s or mine? Again, from Certeau, "the story tirelessly marks out frontiers. It multiplies them." Perhaps this is simply a function of story that I have never noticed in quite this way.
Do we explore
her internal world only or are we meant to experience a sense of real place-
the zoo, Central park in winter. Boundaries like these seem more mutable in the world of
sound art after listening to this piece, perhaps not even as important as they
first appear. I was surprised to find how much Ian Chamber’s
Aural Walk provided a context for the
piece. In particular, “The ingression of such a privatised
habitat in public spaces is a disturbing act. Its uncanny quality lies in its
deliberate confusion of earlier boundaries, in its provocative appearance 'out
of place.” Yet Chambers’
speaks about the experience of walkmans, while Cardiff’s piece reminded me more
of a play, wearing binaural headphones. I am left again with the sense that artificial boundaries color
my experience of sound.
Nice observations! I too really like that Chambers essay and am impressed at how current it remains despite the era it was written in. What I think is refreshing is that, in a sea of critical writing about the iPod(Walkman), this is one of the few texts that seem to embrace it as a creative tool rather than a simply consumptive one. I think it works very well in tandem with the works you're listening to, ones that are very much about ambulatory space.
ReplyDeleteI was able experience Long Dark Hair first-person in 2004. It was a lovely and sensorially rich experience that still sticks with me. What I loved best was the merging of programmed and environmental sounds, that is sounds pre-recorded in the park at the precise location being fed into my headphones and the on-site sounds happening in real time around me. It was, as you say, these merging of boundaries that made the experience truly profound.
I am so glad you mentioned your own experience of this piece. I listened to it on Cardiff's website and there was no explanation given- so I had no idea that the walk was meant to be taken in the place of the story.
ReplyDeleteI suppose it doesn't matter now. I can only attempt to remember Central Park as I listen to gain a new understanding of the piece's original context.