Sound and the Art of Listening

Having been consciously studying sound in the environment for some time now, I feel that I have gained a heightened awareness of the world around me. The chirp of the birds, the space of the valleys, the muting ambiance of the snow; I am passionate about the way these things affect us, what they represent and signify, and what they tell us about the ever changing time and space we are in. Sound also tells us much about the interaction between our senses and the things that determine our mood and emotions.

I know that listening to bird song makes me happy, peaceful and relaxed, but I can also get immense pleasure from sounds with less calming connotations. A road drill can deliver some exciting rhythms, tones and timbres that would not be out of place on record. It is the art of listening and understanding that provides the satisfaction.

Ignoring connotations is one of the hardest things to do though. They are the foundations upon which our media saturated world is hosted. We are told that bird song is relaxing, and it is. But why? It is a collection of rhythm, melody, harmony and timbre. Maybe the higher pitches leave space for the human voice amongst them? Or is it that if we can hear the birds we are already in a peaceful space, architecturally or mentally.

There are beautiful rich sounds to be found all around and I know that if I am taking the time to consciously listen to them that I am feeling peaceful and appreciative of the world around me. And not just the sounds, but the aromas, the colours and the feel of the air. Likewise, if I am agitated and struggling to concentrate, the hum of my refrigerator can drive me to distraction as my entire focus is drawn to its every detail.

This is not to say though that different sounds do not have different affects on our bodies and minds. Those mellow, high pitch, floating bird songs do make me feel and think differently to the ferocious roar of the drill.

The next time you are on a bus, in the office or just out in town, take five minutes to listen to what is going and try to understand how your body reacts to different noises. What sounds make you jump, cause your temperature to drop, your heart rate to increase, your chest tighten and body tense? What has happened sonically that may have caused you to suddenly exhale and relax? This is quite difficult to do because if you concentrate too hard you will exert control over your body that may cause it to react differently. The key is to be aware but not too expectant.

So my point here is that sound has a definite direct affect on our body and mind, but in tandem, the art of listening tells us much about how we already feel. All sounds can be dynamic and interesting, but only when we find the space to step back and listen to them.

Its oh so quiet

There are so many sounds that we encounter everyday that we barely notice, all of which have subtle affects on our bodies and minds. Often they are the sounds of our most familiar environments such as home and work. It is common to notice these sounds when they appear unfamiliar and new; I am always driven to distraction by strange whirs and creeks when I move into a new house, but within a month i can no longer hear them, or rather I no longer listen to them. They are still there, still playing on my mind and affecting my body, the vibrations are still changing my temperature, mood and tension, I am just no longer aware of them in a sonic fashion.

Bearing this in mind I spent a quiet Wednesday afternoon laying still and listening to the sounds of my apartment and its immediate soundscape. It takes a while for the sounds to begin to filter through, to realise that there are a succession of hums and drones surrounding me, constructed from a multiplicity of sonic granules, but after a few minutes I begin to break them down into pockets and particles, and to gain an understanding of their construction and relationships.

Most noticeable is the layered fuzz, crackle and whir of the computer fan, which lends a granulated distortion to the air, moving, jumping and vibrating when listened to closely, still and drone like when the listening is more casual. High pitch gurgles meet the wispy exhalation of air, stabs of mid range electrical fury and low continuous whir.

This is joined by the lower and more ferocious bluster of the fridge, bubbling, whirring and rumbling gently before stuttering and grunting to a standstill only to start up again a few minutes later with a high pitch drone. I can hear my finger and the soft fabric of my sleeve gently scraping and dragging abrasively against paper, and further afield the awkward high pitch drone and clunking stop of the lift.

Outside, sporadic high impact mid range bangs, the sound of heavy steel on steel, tense my body and increase my heart rate, long drawn out gloopy sirens swirl around, near and far provoking intense images of a high action police chase and the immediate thoughts of crime and violence. Softer low pitch metallic bangs spurt outside the window as car doors are shut, followed by the raspy air of moving cars increasing swiftly in pitch and intensity as their location changes.

The distant chainsaw buzz of a bike engine mixes with the intonation of incomprehensible voices, varying rhythms and pitches symbolise gender and mood without words or visual accompaniment. Back inside, my head is fuzzing and clouded with the drones of my apartment, and despite a state of near meditation it is pulsing, throbbing and cluttered with noise.

Finally I notice a close and high pitch glistening sound, crackling and pulsing just around my ears, the sound of my own body? Tinnitus? Wi-fi? I can't be sure but after several minutes of deep still listening I have definitely broken down the drones around me into fragments, and am now hearing subtleties, frequencies and movements that I have never listened to before.