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 21^st 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.

When initially delving into musical studies, music is explained in mathematical terms. There It is one of the few things that sprouting musicians can wrap their little minds around. For me the hardest of music was never playing the instrument, but rather deciphering key signature and how the notes fit into the texture of the piece. But music isn’t all in the notes on the page. It is the sounds that come as a result. Thus all sounds in a sense bear a musical quality. However, as Murray Schafer argues in “Open Ears”, although we lack ear lids, it doesn’t mean we hear every sound. The first step to give these sound musical qualities is to hear them.

Since I do not have any classes before 11, there is rarely ever a need to set an alarm, as I will wake up naturally. Or would be the case, if my roommates would allow it. Somehow they both mange to slam the door every time the leave the room. Although I find this incredibly annoying, it does bear certain rhythmic quality, as the door can only slam as fast as the hinges allow it. The second sound is the sound of my morning shower, wake up number two.  I find water to be one the most soothing musical essences on the plant. Although I have never been able to fall asleep to it, I can certainly see why. After that it is off to the Grundle for breakfast, though there is nothing discerning it from another time of day. The clattering of silverware, shuffling of feet, and overlapping conversations make it impossible to discern one sound from another so that it all just meshes together into to one wave of noise. Incomprehensible sounds such as this do have certain musical qualities to them, as utilized in songs such as “Kids” by MGMT. The fourth sound in the recording is my bike, the cranking of my chain through the gears, around and around in the one direction that will propel me forward. Sometimes I ride just for the sake of it, with no destination or purpose in mind. This is music in itself.

The next two sounds, I will admit, are actually associated with music. The first a series of breathing exercises designed to fill up the diaphragm, then fill up the excess lung space in the chest, to finally release it all in one moment. The next is a clip of me playing a piece from a seating placement several years ago. Although I did terrible in the audition, I still enjoy the piece, as it portrays both the technical ability and range of the player’s ability. As a tuba player, particularly in pep and marching bands, we are there to grove. Just as Shelley Trower in “Hearing Vibrations” uses the example of reacting to the vibrations felt throughout the body, tuba players naturally react based upon the vibrations of the ensemble. In the end it does not matter whether we play exactly the right note as long as we play at the right moment.

This next sound in the podcast is the only one I would associate with being school related. It is the sound of my pencil scratching in my notebook and the occasional shuffle of pages. Clicking my pencil,  I scratch as a way for stimulation, sometimes even intentionally doing so in some sort of rhythmic form. The next sound is again directly musical related, as it is me playing the fiddle (terribly, I might add). This was a project that I picked up near the end of high school, as I realized that I my musical career could be coming to a close. I wanted to continue, and as much as I love the tuba, it is not the most versatile of instruments. So after some meddling, I eventually came to the fiddle. I say fiddle because that is the kind of music that I have chosen for myself (If one can call it that). After that is the overpowering sound my roommates’ six fans, that although noisy, do eventually lull me into a deep sleep. The final noise on my list is not one periodically heard at the end of the day for me, but rather at week’s end, as I venture forth to explore and challenge myself on a new river. In sense I kayak whitewater so that I may be humbled by the rivers immense power. Thus completes my musical composition.

Works Cited:

Schafer, Murray. “Open Ears.” Journal of Acoustic Ecology (2003): 38. Print.

Trower, Shelley. “Introduction Hearing Vibrations.” In Senses of Vibration. New York: The Continuum International Publishing Group, 2012.