Journal

Discussions with my group on a potential theme for our collaborative project gave rise to a common interest in spirituality. The similarities between human and nature show synchronicities (a term coined by the psychologist Carl Jung ‘pertaining to the coincidental occurrence of events that seem related but are not explained by conventional mechanisms of causality’) between various forms of life. This led us to form a graphical design that combined the rings found in tree stumps and in human fingerprints. In essence, this shows a oneness or a unity in the physiological make up of humans and nature. The Gaia Hypothesis comes to mind here, that proposes that ‘living organisms interact with their inorganic surroundings on Earth to form a synergistic and self-regulating, complex system that helps to maintain and perpetuate the conditions for life on the planet.’

The anima, according to Carl Jung is one side of the collective consciousness, namely the feminine energy that radiates within us, whilst in traditional philosophy it is the subconscious part of an individual compared to the persona as ones perceived personality. Yet they all point to what I feel is the same thing. The soul. And in a widespread sense this can be interpreted as the energy shared by all living things. The term Anima immediately divides this energy into two parts, suggesting perhaps that duality is a necessity to existence. Yet ancient forms of thought such as Zen buddhism focus on a paradigm shift from mind-body dualism in order to exist without dichotomies. Whilst open to interpretation I believe that a centred existence may be achieved through reconnecting with our fellow humans and the natural world around us, using this interconnectedness to potentially realise the fragments within our own personalities.

Much of my research has used Musique Concrete as a central focus, and I feel this marries well with the ways in which we can achieve such a non duality. Particularly, the works of Pauline Oliveros and her sonic meditations come to mind. When we allow ourselves to succumb to the poetic chaos of our surroundings, we give ourselves the opportunity to respond in a way that originates from our primal inner beings, without forethought as to what ‘should’ be done due to conditioning and appropriations. Moreover, Musique Concrete not only encourages spontaneity but actively promotes us to engage with our environment in new ways. It seems as if the path of discovery, within sound and spirituality share many common attributes.

With ancient practices in mind, such as taoist meditation, zen buddhism and Gu Qin aesthetics I aim to create a sound piece that advocates healing through togetherness over a backdrop of sounds that we associate with tranquility, experimenting with them in ways that allow for freedom within music.

Sound has always had a way of triggering various responses in human beings, whether that be fight or flight, a certain emotion or an extreme physical reaction. The associations we give certain sounds act as prompts, carrying information that activate our Reticular Activation System.

While some sounds can be linked to personal circumstances in ones life, stereotypically, many sounds will hold a universal meaning, such as the ring of a fire alarm or the sound of lightning. Yet, as people move through life and experience different things, these same sounds can trigger deep emotions based on the emotional information we associate them with as a result.

An example of this is the condition Misphonia, where exposure tio certain sounds can cause visceral reactions such as panic attacks, due to conditioning. In a general sense, sounds we find unpleasant, such as the scraping of cutlery, lies in the frequency of 2000 to 4000hz, the range that humans are most sensitive too. Evolutionary purposes suggest that sounds in this frequency range suggest a potential threat. Pleasurable sonic stimuli, such as music however, releases dopamines in our brains, bringing a level of internal euphoria via the episodic memories we attach to certain songs.

Despite conditioning, sounds affect us in similar ways, and in here lies the power to link people on a subconscious level.

Inspired by the sound piece I made in response to last weeks lecture surrounding the voice and sound manipulation, I continued to play with the way in which I could exhale, experimenting with staccato type exhalations, mindful breathing, throat exercises, sounding of vowels and nasal sounds. These experiments spurred me to research into sound art surrounding the breath, eventually leading me to Ruth Anderson’s piece ‘I Come Out Of Your Sleep’.

Taking Louis Bogan’s poem ‘Little Lobelia’, Ruth Anderson created a sound poem by elongating the vowels from the text in a ghostly fashion. These phonemes, whispered in a way that reminds me of modern day A.S.M.R, were intentionally voiced at a ‘very soft dynamic level’, just audible enough that they could perhaps go unnoticed if other environmental textures were present at the time of listening. This delicate delivery and curation of breath is reminiscent of haunting winds, yet soothing and sleep inducing at the same time. This minimal composition creates subtle melodic tones using the same techniques I have seen in other forms of Musique Concrete but also takes on the form of an almost meditative experience. What struck me as most interesting however, was her statement that her study of of Zen was “a natural extension of her music,” and that she had cited Pauline Oliveros and her Sonic Meditations as one of her main influences.

These findings have made me ponder on the relationship between musique concrete and meditation. I feel that Musique Concrete encourages the individual to be more aware of the possibilities in sound, extending to those one can make with the body, whilst meditation, dating back to its ancient forms, have always placed importance on the natural sounds around us, as well as self produced sounds for meditation, such as Tibetan throat singing. When the two are combined it can create opportunities to discover more in ways in which we can reconnect with our mind and body using creative practices.

References

DeLaurenti, Christopher. “Ruth Anderson: Uncaged Music – the Wire.” The Wire Magazine – Adventures in Modern Music, www.thewire.co.uk/in-writing/essays/ruth-anderson-uncaged-music. Accessed 16 Aug. 2021.

“Louise Bogan.” Wikipedia, 14 Feb. 2021, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louise_Bogan. Accessed 16 Aug. 2021.

“Ruth Anderson (Composer).” Wikipedia, 10 Aug. 2021, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruth_Anderson_(composer). Accessed 16 Aug. 2021.

“Throat Singing: A Unique Vocalization from Three Cultures.” Smithsonian Folkways Recordings, folkways.si.edu/throat-singing-unique-vocalization-three-cultures/world/music/article/smithsonian.

The french composer Pierre Schafer, a pioneer of experimental music, was one of the first to recognise the limits of traditionally recorded music and theory. His experiments with recording equipment, but most notably tape manipulation, are the main ways in which he explored these limitations, pushing past boundaries of what was widely accepted in music, ushering in a new age of musical experimentation

Using tape recorders in a creative way, Schafer set about changing the nature of recorded sound that society had grown familiar with. Conventional techniques of music production used on the machines at his disposal, such as the Shellac record recorder, mixing desk and microphones didn’t allow for enough alteration of the tonal characteristics of the sounds he was using to satiate his experimental aesthetic. As a result he started to study the characteristics of instruments on a micro level, in order to alter them in a more complex fashion. His careful analysis of these characteristics, such as attack, timbre, decay and speed, among others, and the way in which they were applied in mainstream music allowed him to come up with ways to change the attributes of sound entirely. Using principles of loop manipulation, Schaeffer composed a piece between 1949 to 1950 called Symphonie Pour Un Homme Seul that was made up of music using turntables and mixers that allowed him to create a symphony of noises, incorporating these techniques of sound manipulation, such as reversing a sound, sustained resonance and removing the attack of a sound.

The introduction of the tape recorder in 1951 facilitated manipulation of sound via speed variation and looping in a much more intuitive way. However it was the possibility of tape splicing, whereby bits of tape could be cut up and rearranged that fuelled a lot of Schaeffer’s future work, as well as the advancement of music production in general.

These works with tape manipulation and application of audio effects formed the basis of Musique Concrete, ‘a type of musical composition that utilises recorded sounds as raw material‘ resulting in montages mainly using, but not limited to, the human voice, natural environment, musical instruments and synthesizers without the restrictions of music theory pertaining to melody, harmony, rhythm, etc. This form of acousmatic music, where the sound is manipulated enough so that the audience has little clues as to it source became fundamental in the development of the musical genres that followed.

Whilst a lot of his early works strike me as a concoction of sounds arranged in a very chaotic way with, what I deem to be, a lack of musical intent, upon research I now feel as if the experimental intention behind these works are more important than the resulting non-music, as it forces the audience to see sound from a new perspective. If it wasn’t for Schaeffer, much of the presupposed meaningless of his musical arrangements may never have merged with traditional music to create the vast array of genres we have today. In a very direct sense, one such genre is that of Plunderphonics: ‘a highly controversial genre of electronic music that involves unashamedly sampling other people’s music or media to create new tracks.‘

I feel that Musique concrete’s inherent opposition to traditional forms of music also encourages creators to engage more inquisitively with the environment they find themselves in and the tools at their disposal, to discover alternate ways of producing sound and motivating us to understand our tools in a greater way. It teaches an important lesson in exercising more wariness with the associations to music that we have been conditioned to relate to.

References

Palombini, Carlos. (2002). Musique Concrète Revisited.

“Acousmatic Sound.” Wikipedia, 3 Dec. 2020, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acousmatic_sound. Accessed 15 Aug. 2021.

Henshall, Marc. “The History of Musique Concrète.” Sound Matters, 30 Oct. 2011, www.yoursoundmatters.com/musiqueconcrete1/.

“Musique Concrete | Music 101.” Courses.lumenlearning.com, courses.lumenlearning.com/suny-musicapp-medieval-modern/chapter/musique-concrete/.

“Symphonie Pour Un Homme Seul.” Wikipedia, 9 Feb. 2021, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphonie_pour_un_homme_seul. Accessed 15 Aug. 2021.

Wikipedia Contributors. “Musique Concrète.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 15 Nov. 2019, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Musique_concr%C3%A8te.

During a time of political tension between America and Russia, namely the Cold war, where America’s struggle against the spread of communism saw an indirect confrontation between the two superpowers, there was a widespread sentiment of worry regarding the potential threat this conflict could have on the future.

Pauline Oliveros, a pioneer of electronic music in San Francisco at the time, responded to these events by turning inwards via ‘Sonic Meditations’ with a goal of unifying people with a ‘humanitarian purpose of expanded consciousness’ through text based scores born from experimental private compositions focused on soothing and relaxing the mind and body.

In order to reconnect with herself amidst the global despair, Oliveros’ experiments with extended drones on her accordion led her to form sound and body exercises that she coined ‘recipes for listening’, through which she emphasised the importance of listening actively, as opposed to passively, as a form of self healing. Translating these into textual scores, one example reads “Take a walk at night. Walk so silently that the bottoms of your feet become ears.”

These instructions, eventually compiled into what we now know as ‘Sonic Meditations’, seems to me like a renewed way of self reflection that focuses on listening as an active pursuit, whilst incorporating traditional forms of meditation such as breath-work and Gong baths. However, although her work is widely known to revolve around the phenomenon of deeper listening, I feel that Oliveros’ work with kinetic awareness blurs the line between sound and movement. Whilst her intentions may have initially revolved around intent listening, does the involvement of movement not distract the individual from focusing all their attention on the sounds they are submerged in? Her idea, however, to incorporate movement came from her encounters with Tai Chi, a practice that primarily focuses on self healing, and with this knowledge it can be said that multiple sensory forms are intertwined if the main purpose is to remedy oneself of inner tension.

The term ‘body-centered politics’ strikes me as a very poetic description of her work as it leaves us with the notion that in times of political misfortune one can retain some form of composure within themselves, using listening and movement as a form of activism.

Moreover, the ensembles she formed in order to act out these meditations gathered in non-verbal meetings. On many occasions I have experienced an exchange of energy and emotions with others where no words were needed, and in many ways this made these encounters all the more powerful. As a result, I understand Oliveros’ necessity to exclude forms of verbal communication in order to create an atmosphere of heightened states of awareness and sensitivity to one another on a feeling level. She emphasised that music is a byproduct of the activity of experimenting on the self and that without the pressure of being involved in a performer/ audience axis a safe space is created for non verbal communication between its participants.

I feel that the dichotomy of existing in a divided state can be remedied by unifying with others. A collective oneness can be achieved, and perhaps help centre the mind and the body. An example of this comes to mind, where I engaged in a political protest at trafalgar square. The act of chanting and kneeling with thousands of other like-minded people not only emphasised the gravity of the situation at hand but the power people have when uniting in a common cause, and as a result fed me strength and confidence in my own abilities as a human being. This can also be seen in one of Oliveros’ meditations ‘Teach me how to fly’ where participants were asked to hum in unison via careful observation of their individual breath and a consequent exhalation of sound. The title is a quirky reference to the fact that this group exercise can sound like an airplane taking off. A mighty prospect when alone, yet an easy task when we join with one another. Going back to the notion of increased sensitivity to our fellow humans, these shared experiences can manifest our individual inner experiences, paving the way for acceptance from others and most importantly, self acceptance. In 1974, Oliveros wrote, “How many of you out there think you are in the minority? If everyone came out of the closet the world would change overnight.“

A lack of control over seemingly despairing situations can lead us to respond by using the tools at our immediate disposal to create a safe haven for self healing. As a result it frees us to discover alternate ways of knowing ourselves in a deeper way, overcoming mainstream societal restrictions on how one should listen or move based on class, gender or nationality and connect with others in order to move towards a more accepting civilisation. Perhaps the most effective way of advancing as a species is by looking inwards rather than searching outwards.

References

Laima. “Deep Listening: Discovering Pauline Oliveros’ Sonic World with Laima.” The Vinyl Factory, 1 Apr. 2021, thevinylfactory.com/features/discovering-pauline-oliveros-sonic-world-with-laima/.

O’Brien, Kerry. “Listening as Activism: The ‘Sonic Meditations’ of Pauline Oliveros.” The New Yorker, 2017, www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/listening-as-activism-the-sonic-meditations-of-pauline-oliveros.

Oliveros, Pauline. SONIC MEDITATIONS by Pauline Oliveros.

“The Vietnam War – the Cold War (1945–1989) – CVCE Website.” Cvce.eu, 2013, www.cvce.eu/en/education/unit-content/-/unit/55c09dcc-a9f2-45e9-b240-eaef64452cae/5ad21c97-4435-4fd0-89ff-b6bddf117bf4.