In the midst of Pandemic
28 Mar 2020For one of my classes this term, I was tasked to create some audio work that touched on ideas of soundscapes, space, voice, story, or other aspects of sound. Aside from those general guidelines, there were no other restrictions.
While brainstorming ideas for the project, life took an unprecedented change as the COVID-19 virus started spiralling out of control in North America. Society seemed to halt as schools, offices, and restaurants began to shut down in an effort to slow the spread of the disease. For most, daily life in some form or another was drastically affected by this sudden escalation of preventative measures. For me personally, concerns around how to finish the academic term and the state of future internships circled amidst the confusion.
In times of chaos (or rather on the brink of chaos), there is also opportunity. For every cancellation/closure, a new slice of free time presents itself as a chance for something great to be done with it. If there was ever a period of time that begged one to finally work on things perpetually blocked by commitments or lack of time, now would be it. During such an era, art presents itself as an especially fruitful avenue where one can create something to make sense of their feelings, make a statement, or something else entirely.
Three days into our self-imposed isolation, my roommate and I went out for a run and noticed that in contrast to the seemingly anarchic state of the wider globe reported on the news, the outside world almost seemed calm. There was a strange beauty in the still tranquility of a paused society. One of the things that predominately stuck out was how quiet things were. With less cars and people, I could hear the small details of life in greater detail than ever before.
Inspired by this experience, we drove out to a country road (Weimar Line) between Waterloo and Saint Clements with a violin, guitar, microphone, and no concrete plan. As we drove, we passed a beautiful field that caught the light of the sunset in a glamorous way. It was the perfect setting to record an audio piece to express these feelings of tranquility and peace in the midst of stressful uncertainty. To properly capture the location we were at, I set my microphone (Blue Yeti) to record directional audio meaning that spatial relationships got picked up. Examples of this are at 0:16 when the sound of the passing car travels from one ear to the other.
In Louise Meintjes’ paper, The Recording Studio as a Fetish, Meintjes talks about how typical recording studios (where the majority of music we listen to are recorded in) are highly engineered and are a “space out of the ordinary”. She describes the extensive ways recording studios are constructed so that natural ambient sounds are minimized. The end result is an extremely regulated sonic space that Meintjes likens to a mad science lab of electronics. She theorizes how this powerful control of natural space can result in more isolated sounds which can be listened to in and of themselves with minimal outside influences. That is to say, the qualities of the physical space in which sounds are recorded in can be made to purposefully disappear with recording studios.
Our recording is on the opposite end of this type of recording technique. The recorded music in the piece is as intertwined with the setting of the field as it is with the literal notes being played. Beyond that, the recording ends up becoming an auditory snapshot of the space much like how a photograph visually captures an area. The sounds of cars, animals, and wind blowing all constitute what it sounded like to be in that field on that day and at that time. To add onto this philosophy of capturing a live moment in time, the music we played was completely improvised. As someone who is not very experienced with musical improvisation, it was tempting to come up with some pre-agreed general song structure or melodic phrases so that there would be something to fall back on. However, to keep this idea of a true “raw” moment, we did none of that and openly jumped in. The resulting music we played is not the cleanest nor the most coherent. There are definitely notes that could have been played better or melodies that had room to develop but overall, I am happy that we stuck to the idea of true improvisation in the moment and hopefully ended up making something worthwhile to listen to.
As a musical remark, I am really pleased how the environment played along with us in an artistic way. At the start of the duet, the noises of the soundscape are dulled, almost silent. As the music picks up, it seems like the surrounding life starts to come alive again, a few cars can be heard passing, cricket chirps get louder, and geese start honking more. Near the end at 5:12, there is even a little “duet” with the geese and guitar that I am still so amazed that we managed to capture. I think this development of the environment along our music thematically compliments the overall work as it could be interpreted to symbolize the stillness of humanity brought on by the pandemic which eventually energizes as joyous life returns. One hopes that a similar story aligns with reality and that this virus can pass over our world as quickly and safely as possible.