Home is a place in which everything is familiar to oneself. This familiarity is applicable to all senses. From the sight of where all the furniture is placed, to the distinctive smell of the kitchen, to the taste of the water, everything is familiar, but the most important in this case is the sounds one hears when they are present in their house. The soundscape looked at in this case is my home in Massachusetts. The idea of sonic dominance was coined by the author Julian Henriques. Sonic dominance is when sound that is listened to transcends the power of the senses resulting in a divine like experience where one loses thought of their body and surroundings, and ultimately becomes connected with the sound. The “homey” feeling one feels when they are home is actually a result of the sonic dominance of the soundscape of the home.
In the soundscape of my house one hears many sounds, from birds chirping, to wind blowing, to the dishwasher working. These are all examples of keynote sounds, which are extremely important to achieving sonic dominance in the house. R. Murray Schafer created the idea of a keynote sound. These are the sounds that are in the background of a soundscape. They may not be noticed or heard, but are noticed when absent. Keynote sounds are key in making the home attain that “homey” feeling. Every home has different keynote sounds, but without them the home becomes unoriginal and is unable to capture those within it in its sonic dominance. The sonic dominance one feels is also like a keynote sound. One feels different when they are home or have that “homey” feeling. Nothing is able to alter one’s feelings and they feel separated from the rest of the world, yet it is not obvious and only is noticed once one is not present within their home. The keynote sounds like the birds chirping or the dishwasher washing are extremely important to the soundscape as they both give identity to the soundscape of my house, and allow for the subtle sonic dominance to take place.
Each of the sounds heard in the soundscape recording are vitally important in retaining the identity of the house. The signals (sounds one consciously hears and are in the foreground) also play an important role in identifying the soundscape. The signals of the soundscape are the parts of sound that carry the meaning. The dog barking, the people talking, and the truck door slamming can all be looked at as just loud sounds in the foreground. In actuality, they all carry meaning that allows one in the home to obtain the “homey” feeling or sense of sonic dominance. Each sound although not necessarily original in nature (in the sense of never hearing a sound like it), but is original in the context of the soundscape. My dog barking in the soundscape of my house allows me to think of memories of her, such as the day I first got her. If I did not hear the dog bark in the soundscape of my home, these memories or meanings may not be accessed as easily. This is an example of how in context these signals within the soundscape create meanings.
The combination of both the keynote sounds and the signals creates a “grain” that is only obtainable within the home. This “grain” causes the sonic dominance within the home to occur. The “grain” is an idea created by Barthes which is whenmusic and the voice coexist creating a sound that cannot be described through the uses of adjectives. In this case it is not music and voice, but actually keynote sound and signal. The combination of both the subtleties of the keynote and the meanings of the signal create a perfect harmony in which the distinctive sounds of a home is created, and those who live in the home experience this “grain” as sonic dominance. The quote, “There is no place like home” embodies this idea because there is truly no other place like home where one can experience sonic dominance solely by standing in it.
“Adventures in Vermont, Part Two.” The Desk Set Adventures in Vermont Part Two Comments. Web. 16 Dec. 2015.
Essay:
Michael Greenberg, Zach Bochicchio, Tess Neubauer
It is important to note that the sounds captured in our soundscape composition do not accurately reflect the sounds experienced by an actual person in the library. As Lawrence English describes, “Being non-cognitive, the microphone lacks an ability to focus in on particular sounds of interest and, more importantly, to filter out undesirable sonic materials.” (English). A soundscape recording is insufficient in its attempt to capture all the sounds experienced in a given environment, so it is highly recommended to visit each floor of the library in person to fully understand the following descriptions.
Sound is one of the most important senses that let the mind know what is going on around it, but it is also so much more than that. It defines a place. It defines the culture of that place and the people in it. Without sound, what we know about our surroundings would be dull, and void of the deeper understanding of our environments that only sound can bring. The first floor of the library is unlike any other place. It is a unique combination of various sounds, all which hold significant value independently, that together make up its soundscape.
The first floor serves as the meeting place for academics, friends, peers, and so many other diverse relationships. This is the floor that the soundscape recording begins with. As the recording progresses, the sounds move from the first floor to the second, and finally to the third. It serves as a place for ideas to be swapped and group projects to be completed. What separates the first floor from the other two is the bustle. The second and third floors serve as silent escapes from the busy lives that students live. Here, on the upper floors, are places to study and focus without the commotion of the first floor. The dominating sound of the first floor is the conversation, whether it is about school, or just friends catching up. Conversation is often higher pitched and has a longer duration than other sounds. Some other more subtle sounds are the sounds of the cafe: beeping and buzzing, the gurgling on the coffee machines pumping out coffee, or food being prepared. This is where the two sounds seem to split into a few different categories, either human or machine in origin. The sounds in the library fall into these two categories, and the first floor has the most prominent split between the two. The first floor has coffee machines, printers, computers, televisions, and so many other unnatural producers of sound. The first floor also has the highest output of human sound between quiet whispers, loud talking, laughing, sneezing, or coughing.
The library’s second floor is somewhat of a happy medium between the dead silence of the third floor and the comparatively bustling scene of the first floor. The second floor exists as a floor that is meant to be very quiet as so that studying can be interrupted with as few distractions as possible. Signs are posted to let students know that this is a quiet floor. Though most distractions are eliminated, some key sounds are not. The main sound heard throughout the second floor is the sound of typing. Short fast bursts of sounds. Little tics that vary very little in duration. Usually there is a burst of somewhat equi- tempo clicks that then stop. Presumably after the person has finished writing their phrase. Clicks do however vary in volume. Usually the spacebar is hit louder than the other keys. Similarly, the first and last clicks of a writing burst are usually the loudest while the notes in the middle seem to stay relatively similar in volume. Most students bring their laptops to the second floor for whatever purpose. The distinct sound of typing can always be heard throughout the library. The typing is an important sound to the second floor for its ability to imprint the drive of production on other students who are listening; intentionally or not. By hearing other students get work done, it makes you want to get work done as well. The point of going up to the second floor is productivity, and this sound produces exactly that. One of the other important sounds of the library is the sound of the chairs being moved. The load of work placed upon a college student can seem daunting and overwhelming. The sound of a student’s chair moving as they exit the library serves, similarly to the typing, as a beacon of light. Hope that there is an end to the work and a burst of energy to help get you working again as you close in on finishing whatever task you are trying to complete. The silence, or attempt at it, is the main reason that the second floor becomes such a productive place.
Interestingly, while trying to capture our soundscape, an issue came up within the recording of the second floor that we ultimately loved. As stated before, we think that in order to experience the true soundscape of an atmosphere, one must visit the location itself. Despite efforts by sound scholars like Monacchi to counter this belief, and recreate a soundscape almost identically, it is still the case that nothing will be quite like listening in person. As the recording of the second floor progresses, we can hear the recorder stepping. This is the predominant sound of the middle section of our piece, in fact. This is part of the concept of trying to capture a sound environment completely. The recorder himself will alter the soundscape, leading to some issues. Ultimately we found this valuable and worthy of keeping in the recording. The concept was to allow the listener to become conscious of the recorder themselves, and become aware that this sonic environment that they are listening to through headphones or speakers is, in a sense, artificial. The silence we recorded on the second floor is undoubtedly a huge shift from the first floor, however; the third floor was the most quiet of them all.
The third floor is somewhat of an anomaly. So much is going on on this floor, but so little sound is produced. It such a unique experience being on a floor that contains such a sharp difference between the internal actions of everyone there and the external energy produced. Everyone there is trying to get as much work done, doing so much activity in absolute silence, save for a few occasional sneezes, coughs, or typing on the computer. The dominating sound here is the absence of sound. The first thing that someone notices on the third floor is that there is a lack of dominating sounds. Rather, there are several keynote sounds that the person listening tunes out because of such intense focus; they are only heard the you stop and listen for a few moments. These sounds include the constant high-pitched buzzing of the lights, the typing of people’s computers, the coughing or deep breathing of an anxious student. It takes a trained ear to take a step back and understand all of these sounds. As Schafer describes, “The ear’s only protection is an elaborate psychological mechanism for filtering out undesirable sound in order to concentrate on what is desirable” (Schafer 103). Schafer clearly highlights the fact that the people on the third utilize the psychological mechanism to filter out the sounds that would distract them from their studies. This is the most magical thing about the third floor silence. It is an amazing culmination of people drowning out everyone else, consciously choosing not to hear anything but the teachings swirling around in their heads, each person too focused to care about anything else. We believe, as a group, that our soundscape composition accurately reflects the themes and different soundscapes of each floor.
We found that on the first floor, the bustling and chatty atmosphere led to a feeling of comradery and unity. There was a sense of many students working together academically and otherwise in order to achieve a common goal. Upon traveling to the second floor, though, the atmosphere shifts, primarily due to the absence of sounds. This gives a sense of productivity, with even a strange tinge of stress in the air. The few noises in the background blend together in a way that create an academic environment. The third floor does much of the same. The silence, to some, is jarring. To others, comforting. Regardless, the absence of sound is the most noticeable.
Overall, this soundscape composition is a tiny glimpse into the complex sounds that make up the library. Each sound was chosen to represent either a human or mechanical origin, and each sound being so important to the soundscape of the library as a whole and on each level. This composition reflects the things that we’ve learned in this course, and come to appreciate as a deeper understanding of the world around us, both acoustically, and not.
R. Murray Schafer, the author of the article “The Soundscape”, advocates for the importance of sound appreciation around the world. Certainly, the world is an ever-changing place, so we have to pay attention to these changes to better understand the sounds around us. Our group finds UVM to have an extremely unique soundscape unlike any that we have ever experienced. UVM has an excessive amount of keynote sounds, or notes that identify the key or tonality of a particular composition. Keynote sounds do not have to be listened to consciously; they are overheard but cannot be overlooked, for keynote sounds become listening habits in spite of themselves. (Schafer 100). The wind, birds, insects, traffic noises and urban sounds are always overheard in our conscious audio field but never overlooked. Signals we hear around campus (foreground sounds that are listened to consciously) like the voices, phrases, and songs we hear daily, are all so unique to this school and cannot be experienced anywhere else. All of our experiences working in the Patrick Gymnasium and listening to its soundscape proves the importance of sound in a unique soundscape setting unlike any that we have ever experienced. All three members of our group were overwhelmed by the diversity and quantity of sounds being produced inside the Patrick Gym. Each section of the gym, whether it was the ice rink, weight room, or swimming pool, has a unique soundscape differing from one another while all being inside the same building.
During Noah’s soundwalk, he experienced an abundance of sounds being produced from the gym that were each unique to the area of the gym he was in. Starting off near the recreational studio and working his way towards the main lobby, the sounds of soft steps, metal lockers shutting, the removal of clothing, and the opening of doors to the main lobby all flooded the echoey cement hallway. During this sound walk, Noah found it interesting that the sounds were difficult to hear if his body was not still. He found that if he was trying to listen and walk at the same time, the acoustics of his body became keynote sounds and would almost always overpower the soundscape in his surrounding vicinity. Although his personal movements overpowered the surrounding sounds, this was not the case for when he sat and observed an ice hockey practice. The crashes and claps of the puck in the rink synchronizing with the skates gliding roughly on ice overpowered every sound in the area and overpowered his own movements proving that different sections of the gymnasium have different impacts on the level of sound being produced.
It is difficult to say which sounds are important to the gymnasium’s soundscape due to the fact that each section of the gym holds unique sounds important to that specific area. If you had to generalize the entire gym, the attribute to describe the collection of sounds produced from the Gym would fall under the category of an echo. The cement construction of the building allows sound, no matter what form of audio being produced, to travel and echo throughout. While the auditory action of the echo sounds seemed to dominate the gymnasiums soundscape, another keynote sound in the gym would have to be the mechanical sounds including but not limited to the pipes, vents, and electrical work running along the perimeter as well as the interior of the building. The constant buzzing/ hums throughout the gym’s interior are similar to the human heartbeat: always present, but not always felt/ heard. The sounds of different sports being played simply layer themselves over the most fundamental of sounds in the gymnasium: the mechanics. They identify the key parts of the gym and are extremely difficult to duplicate, thereby proving it to be a keynote sound.
Verbal sounds produced by people on this site, rather than machinery or actions, may offer a different perspective to the gym’s aural identity and offer encouragement and the continuation of those sounds. During Charlotte’s field observation in the pool, she noticed that the splash of the water and movement in the pool coupled with encouragement from other teammates amplified as each team member began to swim faster. Charlotte noticed a strong, positive correlation between verbal encouragement and physical performance. In essence, the swimmers swam quicker when the room was louder. The soundscape, amplified with the sounds of motion and movement, proves that certain sounds affect the interactions at the site. Matt noticed this as well when analyzing his field observation in the tennis court but in the opposite manor. While the players became increasingly more focused on the game, their vocal and aggressive manor diminished with each serve, and the sounds in the court decreased with the levels of concentration increasing. Both Matt and Charlotte expressed that the volume (whether that be loud or quiet) filled the room and became the dominant sound, experiencing sonic dominance in different ways throughout the Patrick Gym. The observation involving sonic dominance our group experienced can relate to Lawrence English’s statement interpreting sonic dominance as, “[a guide] to generate a specific particular sense of place rather than a general abstract idea of space. It’s as if the sound itself becomes both a source and expression of this power. (459)” This statement, provided by English, explains Matt and Charlotte’s observation in the gym, proving that certain verbal sounds on this site encourage either audio growth or decay and sonically dominate the surrounding vicinity.
All three members of our group have gained a newfound appreciation for the aural identity of the University of Vermont soundscape, especially the soundscape enclosed inside the Patrick Gymnasium. Each member of our group was able to experience something new and compelling, intriguing each of us to want to continue listening to the unique aural identity of the gym. We all found it so fascinating how there are so many levels to the gyms aural identity, and surpassed our expectations of the amount of sounds and acoustic motion that is present in the gym. While each member of our group experienced something different inside the gym, whether that be the sonic dominance of different sounds or even the sonic dominance of silence, we all were able to agree that the gym took on an aural identity of its own, sometimes producing certain compositions over which we have no control or showing that we are composers and responsible for its identity. So, “The final question will be: is the soundscape of the world an indeterminate composition over which we have no control, or are we its composers and performers, responsible for giving it form and beauty?” (96 Schafer)
Settled in the middle of campus is a building that is the central hub to socialize, study, and to eat. Walking into the two large glass doors, you are welcomed by the comfy chairs, the smell of freshly roasted coffee, and the shuffling of papers of students working. The sonic diversity of the Davis Center is captured through its many locations serving a wide variety of needs for students and faculty. It is within the Davis Center that the relationship between space and sound is best exemplified. After collecting the data it is clear that this location is one of the most unique places on campus due to the fact that it has no definite aural culture.
The acoustic hub of the Davis Center is the main lobby on the first-floor. In just a matter of minutes the listener will hear everything from pool balls hitting each other, to students petitioning, to the dominating sound of the bathroom hand driers. There are many other noises in addition to these, which add to the eclectic-ness of the building. The most prominent sounds of the soundscape are the quick scuffling of footsteps on the floor, and the motion of doors swinging open at all times. These sounds are constantly occurring, which exemplifies the purpose of the Davis Center. The Davis Center was made as a common meeting place for students, with a variety of resources, services, and spaces. It is rare and almost impossible for a UVM student to go a day not passing through the Davis Center once, which explains why the soundscape is as diverse as it is.
In contrast, “Henderson’s” has a very specific soundscape. Here you will listen to business-like conversations, the typing of computers, and the occasional shuffling of papers. This atmosphere is very different from other places in the Davis Center. It is a quiet environment suited for working. The only loud and dominating sound is the espresso machine occasionally grinding coffee beans. As a coffee enthusiast, I can appreciate what this sound entails. For me, the sound of the espresso machine is the “grain” of Henderson’s Café. Author Roland Barthes uses his essay The Grain of the Voice to explain what the grain of a sound is. It is a keynote noise of a sound, song, or even an environment. Something that has grain is very much enjoyed, and impacts the soundscape in a positive way, just as the machine does for the café.
The Marketplace harbors a wide variety of noise for the ear to divulge in. Amongst the most prominent is the murmuring voices and the mechanical hums of the fountain machine. This particular area has no restrictions to the amount of sounds that come through the area. Schafer’s article “The Soundscapes” highlights and defines how our sonic environment has evolved over time and how we as citizens perceive this. Schafer studied the interactions between people and sound, stating due to the abundance of acoustic noise, we suffer due to our constant desire to tune out, rather than analyze the vibrations around us. Similar to his other piece, he strongly expresses the importance of listening, understanding, and making distinctions between sounds. With this in mind, I struggled to analyze each sound and vibration individually, rather than tuning it out entirely.
Brennan’s Pub is one of the most popular places to go, especially on the weekends. Walking through the door you are greeted with the sound of sizzling food, vibrations of the remotes, and endless conversation However, there is one particular sound that dominances this environment and that is the music. This source of vibrations is what brings people together and fills what could be silence. In a sense, the level of music controls the volume of the room due to the fact that voices should not overpower what is playing. From the result of this behavior, Brennan’s becomes an environment of muffled voices and clear, defined music. Upon initially entering the tunnel within the Davis Center, the first sounds heard are that of Smooth Jazz. At times the musical experience within the tunnel feels almost as if it is through headphones, due to the lack of other sounds. This gives an odd feeling of being alone within the busy Davis Center, only broken by the occasional passerby. Without the music, the tunnel would simply be a soundless means of travel from the Davis Center to the world above. With music, this space becomes filled with color and creativity. Jonathan Sterne describes the importance of the mp3 within the 21st Century and the accessibility it has created. This applies to music of all formats. Although the music heard over the radio may not have been made possible through the digital mp3, it creates the ability to listen to a wide variety of musical genres through a single medium.
The Mt. Mansfield Room within the Davis Center is a melting pot of sounds for listeners. Its size and central location allows it to serve a wide variety of uses. The crunching of wrappers, clicking of keyboards, loud conversations, and quiet ones, are all sounds that can be found within. This space is perhaps one of the biggest groupings of tables within the Davis Center. This, along with its central location, allow for the room to serve the needs of so many students. When listening to David Monachi’s sound recordings it is obvious that each is full of vibrant sounds for the listener to interpret. This holds true for the Mt. Mansfield room soundscape. Unlike the tunnel within the Davis Center, this soundscape lacks any constant sounds for the ear to focus on. Instead the sonic experience that is created for listeners is one full of diversity and color.
The diverse locations within the Davis Center create a wide variety of sensations and sounds for listeners to divulge in. Henderson’s Café, Mt. Mansfield Room, Brenan’s, amongst others, are the many locales comprising the soundscape within the Davis Center. It remains a hub for diverse student activity. The lack of a central sonic theme highlights many of the core sounds and feelings associated with life at UVM.
Sitting in the middle of the University Green on a cold, windy day, it becomes clear that the beautiful expanse is in fact an amalgamation of the sounds which are most exemplary of the University of Vermont. Bike spokes whirring, students talking and laughing, food truck motors rumbling, and of course the noises from the construction site all make their way into the soundscape of the green. The strip of grass in the middle of the small city seems like an oasis, a place to get away from the sounds of traffic and the constant bustle of people. However, sounds from outside find their way in, and congregate at the Green, creating a place where all aspects of the University come together to create a singular soundscape that exemplifies the University and the City of Burlington.
As Feld states, sounds contribute to our meaning of humanity by contributing understanding, compassion, and identity to our lives. Schafer describes a keynote sound as “the anchor or fundamental tone” (Schafer: 100) of a soundscape, something that is always there but not always actively recognized. After listening to the University Green for some time, it becomes apparent that there are a few sounds which are constantly rumbling in the background, easily forgotten. From early each morning until around 4:00, food trucks line up along University Place and provide a soft undertone above which the rest of the sounds of the Green are heard. Although the trucks are not there at night, during the daylight hours they contribute to the soft drone created by the whoosh of ventilation from the surrounding buildings and the wind blowing across the open space.
Wherever you happen to be on the Green, it is always possible to hear the high-pitched, mechanical chirping of the crosswalk signals near Waterman Hall. These warning signs are clear signals in the soundscape, both managing interactions between humans and cars as well as the sounds they produce. Other than these signals, there is nothing to stop sounds from carrying all the way across the Green. The bells of the Ira Allen Chapel ring out across the space, managing our concept of time and making sure students make their way to class on time. These bells and chirps each provide context to the Green which would otherwise be an island to itself. We give these sounds meaning, using them as a way to tell time hour to hour, but also to know when it is safe to perform certain actions such as crossing the street. Since the rumble of traffic is fairly constant throughout the day (though it goes through waves of density), it is sometimes hard to hear the sounds given off by the Green itself. However, if you listen closely, it is possible to discern the quiet chirps of animals, and leaves skittering across the ground. For those who look (or listen) for it, the natural world of the Green presents itself in a soft-spoken fashion.
Sense of place is greatly shaped by the sounds of a location. Just as “part of the culture shock of India is its cacophony of sounds” (Coward: 1), the sounds of the University Green enculturate students into feeling more at home at the University of Vermont. Burlington is a city known for its healthy and happy people, a description which applies to the University of Vermont as well. Food trucks from local businesses can often be found across the small city, bringing joy to hungry students all around. The city is also known as biker-friendly, and the number of people who flock to the mountains each weekend is extremely high. As a result, bikes are a common sound to hear walking across campus or downtown. Additionally, the University Campus has recently been dominated by the construction of new first-year housing and a STEM building at its center. Sitting in the University Green, it is possible to hear all of these sounds come together in one place, which makes it a unique place through which we can listen to the heart of the University of Vermont. It makes sense that Commencement is held on the very same green where the sounds that define the city and University weave themselves together.
For our soundscape of the University Green, we decided to create a composition which conveys the nature of the Green as a collection of all things UVM. This involved overlaying sounds that did not originally occur in the same moment, just as Monacchi manipulated the sounds of the rainforest for his music. We did not change the tones of the sounds themselves, but instead rearranged and reimagined the true soundscape of the University Green into something that conveys the essence of the small oasis in the middle of the campus. We began with the simpler sounds of nature which are present on the Green: wind blowing through the trees, leaves skittering on the sidewalk, the occasional ramble of conversation. Next, more sounds begin to seep into consciousness, the droning rumble of motors rise in the background. Voices start to speak in the distance, as students pass between classes. Then BANG! Metal clangs together from the construction site nearby. This moment is the turning point of our soundscape, as it opens up the location to the world surrounding it. After the construction noises join the soundscape, the sounds of traffic and the machinery-centered world outside the green come in with a higher frequency, crescendoing into a cacophony of sounds from the University, all colliding at one moment. Finally, the sounds leave one by one, until only the restful whistle of wind through the trees is left. As John Cage states, “We want to capture and control these sounds, to use them… as musical instruments” (Cage: 3), and that is exactly what we have done in creating this soundscape. The final instrument of the wind in the trees shows the true heart of the University, since machinery sounds will always eventually end, always come second to the sounds of nature that pull students out towards the mountains to explore.
In May 2015, the Chittenden, Buckham and Wills Residence Hall Complex was removed. Replacing it in August 2017 will be a new first year residence hall with a 450-seat dining hall, a gym complex, and a bridge to the Bailey/Howe Library. Behind the Cook Physical Sciences Building, they are currently building the Discovery Building, which will be “a state-of-the-art teaching and research laboratory facility,” according to the UVM Construction website, which is the first of three phases in the construction of an entirely new STEM complex as well as renovations to the Votey Building. Today, these areas are simply construction, barely representing what they one day will be. These construction sites are a part of every UVM student’s everyday life, whether it causes a longer walk to class through the detours, or if the sound of the construction is the background to one, or every class. Due to the undeniable effect that the construction sites have had on the lives of current and prospective UVM students, especially freshmen who have never experienced UVM without the construction, and prospective students coming to look at the school for the first time, the construction is dominant in the soundscape of UVM. One of the things that sets the construction sites apart from the other soundscapes of the university is the fact that this soundscape is temporary, and it is constantly changing. The sounds of this construction can be heard from all around Central Campus, and it seems as if anywhere you turn there is construction.
The construction site is incredibly diverse in its heavy industrial sounds and has become central to UVM’s soundscape. The site provides a vastly different experience depending on where you are positioned around it. The keynote sound of the construction site from where I stood against a concrete barrier that read “S D Ireland,” was the constant, unignorable low rumble of machinery. Such a rumble sounded so familiar, yet I couldn’t quite locate what was making the sound. By the end of thirty minutes of listening to the construction, that low rumble became white noise– it was still there, yet I did not notice it. Rather, it was the background to the plethora of other sounds that fought for my attention: the beeping of massive trucks backing up, warning anyone within earshot that it was on its way, and it wasn’t stopping; the deliberate picking up and dumping of gravel into the backs of these trucks; the rev and grumble of the engine as it worked to move tons of weight to the next place it needed to be in the seemingly chaotic, yet simply the byproduct of the system of the construction site.
The construction site is what R Murray Schafer describes as “noise pollution” in the article “The Soundscape.” Many believe that “noise pollution” is perhaps the noises of things that are harmful to humans and the earth, such as the sounds of cars speeding on a freeway. However, when Schafer discusses “noise pollution,” he’s referencing his fears that man-made, destructive sounds are disrupting the natural sounds of the earth, and that humans have learned to tune out such sounds that allow them to appreciate the soundscape of their entire environment. When it comes to this construction site, and arguably all of UVM, Schafer is correct. As I stood by and watched the construction site, one of the most striking things I noticed was the lack of noise when students were walking to class. Many were with other people and carrying on conversations, but just as many, if not more, walked in silence– their headphones barring them from hearing, and possibly even noticing the construction, as well as all of the other sounds surrounding them.
Outside the back entrance of the Cook building, the construction seemed at its loudest. By far the most dominant sound present was the machine drilling the beam into the ground, which emitted a deep vibration. The vibrations swelled and got louder at certain times, so that you could actually feel the vibrations in your chest and beneath you on the steps you were sitting upon. This exhibits Trower’s idea in her article “Senses of Vibration” relaying how sound is made up of vibrations which can not only be audible, but physical, and thereby transcend our senses as well as contribute to our experience of a sound. The occasional spraying of gravel, high pitched beeping of trucks backing up, and rhythmic clanking of the chain fence that surrounds the site accented the drone of the drilling machine. The most dominant sound is simultaneously the most important sound for the soundscape because it was constant throughout my entire experience at the construction site.
The construction represents our society’s culture of constantly building things up, innovating, and creating. The sound at this site demands your attention and has profound social implications. The construction site generally has a negative reputation among students and faculty alike because the sound is immensely distracting and loud. The drilling, beeping, high pitched screeching, among other sounds, inhibit interactions between people because the sound is often too overpowering to continue conversations between people passing by, as well as infiltrates the classrooms that surround the site. However, Schwartz in his article “Making Noise” would argue that though this sounds are unwanted, they are no less significant in creating the soundscape. Though people are forced to hear the sound of the construction site as they walk by, it is rare that they actually listen to it–it usually blends into one noisy mess. Personally, it wasn’t until I was forced to sit down and focus my attention on the site that I actually recognized certain machines and the noises they were making. However, even though I was able to identify the sounds, it’s hard to attribute any sort of meaning to them because you typically don’t really have an understanding for what that machine is, and what its role is at the construction site.
This soundscape composition is a construction site all in its own. By taking apart the amorphous soundscape of the original site, and piecing together a collage of construction noises, a new construction site was effectively born. The reason I chose to arrange this piece in a manner that lacks rhythm, or any other apparent premeditated order, is because of the profound beauty I beheld while listening to the original construction site. But to behold was not enough; I wanted to beget. I wanted to create a construction site of my own, and to do that, I needed to have that rumbling drone of machinery, that beeping of backing-up vehicles, the random slamming of metal against metal, all besprinkled with an occasional screaming buzz saw. Similarly to some of Monacchi’s Eco-Acoustic music, a sense of place was created without actually having the noises arranged in their recorded order. In stark contrast to his message, however, this soundscape conveys the brilliant power of industry. Monacchi’s message is “save the rainforest,” while my message is “celebrate humanity.”
The construction of a sonic environment in a UVM dining hall is hugely influenced by the perceptual concepts of the active process of the ear, the sonic aspects that make up a soundscape, perception of a recording versus live perception, and open versus closed ears. These complex ideas can be investigated through analysis and application of the many given course readings.
An interesting difference to be noted between listening to the environment in the moment and listening to a recording of an environment while physically in a different environment is the level of “drone” that is perceived. While drone is operationally defined as “a low continuous humming sound”, in this context it refers to the constant background noise consisting of keynote sounds. These keynote sounds include the rumbling of layered conversations, relentless clanking of silverware, and an array of cooking sounds from the kitchen. While listening to this soundscape in the moment, the overall level of drone seems to be significantly less than while listening to the recorded mp3. This can be attributed to one of two core concepts from the reading.
In the eyes of Schafer, the difference in perception can be attributed to having unintentionally closed ears while physically in the environment, due to habituation of the keynote sounds. When many people first arrive at UVM, the dining halls seemed overwhelmingly loud and busy. As they are habitually attended day after day, the ear also habituates by beginning to block out constant unchanging sounds. After a relatively small portion of time, the recurring sounds of an environment will be effectively tuned out. While listening to the recording in a different environment, the body does not habituate the drone in the same way because it does not recognize the new environment as the same environment the sound was produced in.
From the drastically different perspectives of Sterne or Hudspeth, this difference in perception is due to the fundamental differences in live perception versus recording technology. The human ear is a fantastically complex system that can exhibit “active process” as a sort of organic gain control. In his 2015 paper The Energetic Ear, Hudspeth writes “The active process provides a striking example of the opportunistic nature of evolution. The direct mechanical gating of transduction channels- the simplest mechanism that might be envisioned- inevitably inflicts the distortion responsible for combination tones”(Hudspeth 51). In an environment with a loud drone, the ear produces a constant tone to minimize the contrast of auditory input interacting with the stereocilia. In an environment with little to no drone, the ear would produce little to no constant tone, which would maximize the effect that auditory input has on stereocilia. In the case of a dining hall, the ear would exhibit a moderately strong amount of the active process, and minimize the level of drone perceived in the environment. When an mp3 of the environment is listened to out of context, the ear is trying to focus on all aspects of the recording and fails to adjust to filter out the drone.
In “The Soundscape”, Schafer mentions the features of soundscape and how they are important to notice while listening to soundscapes. The features of soundscape are keynote sounds, signals, and soundmarks. These features are prevalent in every soundscape and make them unique. Upon walking into the UVM dining halls the keynote sounds are generally the rumble of conversation, clanking of silverware, and the surrounding conversations of other students. These are the sounds that are not regularly noticed; they are sounds that people are used to hearing on their day to day routine. On the other hand, there are signal sounds that are consciously heard. They draw attention by being louder or different than the keynote sounds. The signal sounds of the dining halls include, the loud clunk of the bus bin being slammed on the counter, loud laughter or screaming from a table across the room and the shaking of utensils being replaced in their containers. Soundmarks are the unique sounds that are present in each environment. The unique soundmarks of UVM dining halls are the kind and welcoming sodexo staff. They positively affect the moods of every customer. Mary, the woman who swipes cards at the entrance, is UVM’s favorite worker and makes every student excited to go to the Grundle, making her a unique soundmark to UVM dining halls.
The emotions associated with being present in a dining hall have vital influence on the perceptual enjoyment of the sounds present in that soundscape. According to Murray Schafer’s essay Open Ears, a specific sound is perceived as enjoyable or unenjoyable based on its environmental context. If a sound is a marker of a positive consequence in one’s life, the sound will be enjoyed. If a sound marks an unpleasurable event or experience, the sound will be perceived as unenjoyable. This concept dates all of the way back to 1890’s psych experiments performed by Ivan Pavlov. In one of the recordings, a drink fountain being used can be heard vaguely in the background. In the setting of a dining hall, the sound of the drink fountain filling up a cup is enjoyable for certain individuals because of the knowledge that an enjoyable drinking experience is to follow. In the unlikely case of someone who potentially hates drinking anything, this sound would likely be unpleasurable.
The sounds at the UVM dining halls are not managed at all. There are a slew of noises that stay relatively constant over time and at the same time there are organic ones that fluctuate based on factors like time, weather, and culinary satisfaction. There are always going to be the keynote sounds that are constant in the background, but the things that really make soundscapes out of dining halls are the noises of the students that come and go. One determinate is the time of the day in that there are going to be more students and subsequent sounds around prime Western eating times. 6-6:30 pm is a notorious time for Simpson dining hall while students on central campus can get a break from their classes around midday at Cook. Weather also plays a role in the amount of sound in a dining hall. For example, on a cold/rainy day there are likely to be more people, and therefore noise, in the Grundle because so many people live attached to it in Harris/Millis, while Cook would have less people in it because it isn’t attached to or near any housing. There is a stigma about the Harris Millis dining hall that it has the worst food on campus and this causes people, and the sounds they bring with them, to be more likely to go to a different hall to eat. Even though this may or may not be true, the idea has already ingrained itself in UVM culture so that it cannot be reversed.
What is the soundscape of our lives? What does the soundscape convey about the time and place in which we live?
R. Murray Schafer: “We must seek a way to make environmental acoustics a positive study program. Which sounds do we want to preserve, encourage, multiply?”
(excerpted in Jonathan Sterne’s The Sound Studies Reader, p. 95)
Features of the Soundscape: Keynote Sounds, Signals, Soundmarks
Hi-fi & Lo-Fi Soundscapes:
“This leads me to suggest that the rural inhabitant listens in a more unfocused manner than the urban dweller. We speak of peripheral vision when we view a Chinese landscape painting,
with a cloud in one corner, a mountain in another and a waterfall somewhere else. Perhaps there is something like peripheral hearing in an open environment where one overhears rather than focuses consciously. Urban life requires much more focused listening where one is surrounded by sounds requiring quick response: voices, telephones, bells, buzzers, horns, and the like.
The density and demands of the urban soundscape make for a lo-fienvironment in contrast to the hi-fi soundscape of the countryside, where there is less noise and clearer signals. ”
ader, p. 95)