In Jonathan Safran Foer’s second novel, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, sound recording intensifies Oscar Schell’s trauma of the loss of his father in the World Trade Center on 9/11 as he is able to relive his father’s voicemails from the day of the attack over and over. Oskar feels forced into silence through a sense of complicity because the recordings provides a reminder of his inability not only to save his father but to even answer the phone to talk to him that morning. These recordings haunt him as he searches for visual evidence of his father’s death, such as those of the “Falling Man,” as if the sound recording itself cannot provide enough closure for his father’s death.
In The Audible Past, Jonathan Sterne describes sound recording as a “resonant tomb,” which offers “the exteriority of the voice with none of its interior self-awareness” (290). Foer’s novel acknowledges this, but shifts the role of the recording to the interior.
I will argue that although sound recordings haunt Oscar throughout the novel, and he is searching for a visual representation, sound is also the best medium for healing for his loss. One of the first things that Oscar tells his reader is that he wishes he could invent a type of microphone that could be swallowed so everyone could hear what each other’s hearts’ sounded like (eventually syncing up “like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time”). This might at first seem contrary to the effects of the other sound recordings of the novel—the answering machine tapes from Oscar’s father—but instead they both ultimately reveal an opening for interior healing. Oscar’s own healing can serve as a model for a larger cultural healing: the external absence representation of the trauma (the unavoidable visual absence Twin Towers) can be filled instead through sound with the Sonic Memorial Project.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Soundscape: "What's Cookin Now" response
Tony Clavelli and Jason Freeman's "What's Cookin Now"
Our goal with “What’s Cookin’ Now” was to take a traditional, older audio file, and remix it in a variety of (potentially) contradicting ways to incorporate fragments of multiple sound artists we read about this semester. Beginning with John Cage, some of the original layers of the tracks contain our version of the “Water Walk.” Both Jason and I would wander around the kitchen and perform tasks at specific moments in the song that felt good. This is slightly different from Cage, because our work was improvised instead of written as a score. To further complicate this scenario, our motions were occasionally very deliberate. For example, I actually made a cup of coffee during the recording—grinding beans, heating up water for the press—because within the artificial context, the act of recording became part of the listening process as well. Instead of simply acting, there was now a rhythm and a set of parameters in which to act—I could only grind the beans on beat with the song, but I still had the goal of making coffee in mind.
Thematically, this deliberate action in an otherwise random setting is how “What’s Cooking Now” functions throughout. The track itself that provides a backdrop for the song, Hank Williams’ “Hey Good Lookin’,” was set to modulates in pitch and balance with a fixed period, however no other noises are so in sync. More importantly, the modulation period is in no way related to the tempo of the original track. This can be seen as a variation of the sort of cutting and organizing that Burroughs did in his “routines,” yet here there there was no distinct cut, but a blurring of the organization of sound, which similarly disorganizes the feel of the track.
In his chapter in Sound Unbound, Manuel DeLanda writes that a sound can be classified by its pitch, timbre, loudness, and duration, and he compares this to the DNA of the sound. By warping all of those simultaneously, we changed the DNA of the track so that is no longer what it was originally, but is instead something entirely different—which is what the whole remix culture thrives on.
We added, in a rather distant mix, a bit of a hip hop beat. Again, this layer mixes a combination of the new and digital world with something that is less precise and organic. Since the track’s tempo was fixed before we imported it to Garage Band, we weren’t able to automatically match a beat behind it. Instead, that beat was recorded manually, clicking the beat live on the keyboard as if it was an analog instrument. This further added to the anachronistic feeling of hearing Hank Williams in a digital world, while still hearing the kitchen sounds that fit well with the themes of his song.
Listening to the track, it’s not exactly as interesting as I had originally hoped. The whole thing clunks and is generally more disorienting than it is fun to listen to. But both Cage and Burroughs would not have said this was a fault, but instead a virtue. We were able to turn an old favorite into something uglier and stranger, and still enjoy ourselves clunking around the kitchen and banging on things. Perhaps it was not subversive, but it was a fun way to reimagine a text.
(Note: The track itself can be found on the CLC website, uploaded to the folder as directed in the chat room.)
Our goal with “What’s Cookin’ Now” was to take a traditional, older audio file, and remix it in a variety of (potentially) contradicting ways to incorporate fragments of multiple sound artists we read about this semester. Beginning with John Cage, some of the original layers of the tracks contain our version of the “Water Walk.” Both Jason and I would wander around the kitchen and perform tasks at specific moments in the song that felt good. This is slightly different from Cage, because our work was improvised instead of written as a score. To further complicate this scenario, our motions were occasionally very deliberate. For example, I actually made a cup of coffee during the recording—grinding beans, heating up water for the press—because within the artificial context, the act of recording became part of the listening process as well. Instead of simply acting, there was now a rhythm and a set of parameters in which to act—I could only grind the beans on beat with the song, but I still had the goal of making coffee in mind.
Thematically, this deliberate action in an otherwise random setting is how “What’s Cooking Now” functions throughout. The track itself that provides a backdrop for the song, Hank Williams’ “Hey Good Lookin’,” was set to modulates in pitch and balance with a fixed period, however no other noises are so in sync. More importantly, the modulation period is in no way related to the tempo of the original track. This can be seen as a variation of the sort of cutting and organizing that Burroughs did in his “routines,” yet here there there was no distinct cut, but a blurring of the organization of sound, which similarly disorganizes the feel of the track.
In his chapter in Sound Unbound, Manuel DeLanda writes that a sound can be classified by its pitch, timbre, loudness, and duration, and he compares this to the DNA of the sound. By warping all of those simultaneously, we changed the DNA of the track so that is no longer what it was originally, but is instead something entirely different—which is what the whole remix culture thrives on.
We added, in a rather distant mix, a bit of a hip hop beat. Again, this layer mixes a combination of the new and digital world with something that is less precise and organic. Since the track’s tempo was fixed before we imported it to Garage Band, we weren’t able to automatically match a beat behind it. Instead, that beat was recorded manually, clicking the beat live on the keyboard as if it was an analog instrument. This further added to the anachronistic feeling of hearing Hank Williams in a digital world, while still hearing the kitchen sounds that fit well with the themes of his song.
Listening to the track, it’s not exactly as interesting as I had originally hoped. The whole thing clunks and is generally more disorienting than it is fun to listen to. But both Cage and Burroughs would not have said this was a fault, but instead a virtue. We were able to turn an old favorite into something uglier and stranger, and still enjoy ourselves clunking around the kitchen and banging on things. Perhaps it was not subversive, but it was a fun way to reimagine a text.
(Note: The track itself can be found on the CLC website, uploaded to the folder as directed in the chat room.)
Monday, April 6, 2009
Us Kids Know
One of the key problems with Sound Unbound, and really it's not a problem at all, is that each essay is so distinct and interesting, that to blog about 2 or 3 of the 30+ essays feels like I'm limited myself just a single note when there's a whole keyboard full of ideas here (not sure about that analogy...).
But I want to start with what caught my attention, and something that I have a sort of answer for. Lanier's essay that closes this book begs the question: "why is there no new pop music?" (He emphasizes repeatedly that it's not an issue of thinking the new pop music of today is bad, but that it doesn't exist.) So my first question will be a repeat of what perplexed Lanier to the point where he just ran out of things to say, ending his essay with a few potential explanations and then stumbling through a last paragraph about his word count.
I think Lanier's perfectly right to ask this question. He spends plenty of time explaining what he means, and even as a deep lover of music, and, more importantly, someone who REALLY hates when people complain about new generations being inferior to the previous ones (there isn't a better way to instantly become old), he certainly has a point. Pop music, the kinds of things that really become huge, is largely the same as it has been for quite some time. I agree this far in his argument, but I think there might be other issues involved that he fails to address.
First, when was the last time what was truly popular was actually, genuinely good and refreshing and new? Even Michael Jackson, whom I'd argue was pretty awesome during his time, was not particularly innovative with his sound. Under Lanier's definition of "new," there really hasn't been music both "new" AND "pop" (meaning not just the genre, but the popularity level) in longer than just a decade. Second, while this may be a bit perplexing, and is undoubtedly the result of some loose combination of the six suggestions he brings up, is this necessarily a bad thing?
What appears to be happening is that with the almost explosively expanding music world (I'd be willing to wager that the shear volume of albums produced in the past 10 years, likely technology related in its expansion, exceeds the total production of history before that, though i have no proof), "pop" music has been diluted, and innovation, as it always has, has been pushed to the outside. What's interesting, is that this innovation is actually pretty big. Small sects of loyal followings cluster into new genres (not just derivitives and amalgamations of other genres) and nearly push forth into "pop" culture. Around the world, artists like Bjork (she comes up a lot here), Sigur Ros, and Cornelius are all doing things much larger than living in the "corners" of the world, just not quite as powerful in this country. What could be seen as enormously popular in one sub-culture, even LARGE subcultures like the "hipster" crowd (typing it in an academic setting makes me slightly nauseous), isn't quite enough to get everyone's teenage little sister singing along.
So what I'm trying to say, is that we've gone on a long time as it is without having the masses following along with the fringe (the really large fringe) innovations. I know I don't answer why people are content with the same old thing, it's baffling to me too. When I hear my neighbors playing music at a party that's the exact same garbage (literally the same songs) that were around in middle school and high school, I can't understand. How come people find something stale and boring and say "No more! If it's new, i don't want it!"? The masses have become old grandmothers, and unlike Lanier's suggestion that we can't just remain aloof, I say we let her rot in a nursing home and keep supporting new sounds.
And my second question relates to Keller's essay about how listening becomes performance. How would this relate to recent trends of things like Rockband, Guitar Hero, and increasing worldwide karaoke interest relate to this? This is interactive of course, blurring listener and performance, but it's also stirring up speculation about how this could be affecting interest in real musical instruments (both positively and negatively). The change here in techonology might indeed change how we make culture. I'm not sure.
Finally, I just wanted to post this video of the Raymond Scott Quartet--because I'm a huge fan of Looney Tunes, and this music, and had no idea who was really behind it until Sound Unbound.
(plus it's shot really well. I'd write about music videos in relation to Ken Jordan, but maybe another time!)
But I want to start with what caught my attention, and something that I have a sort of answer for. Lanier's essay that closes this book begs the question: "why is there no new pop music?" (He emphasizes repeatedly that it's not an issue of thinking the new pop music of today is bad, but that it doesn't exist.) So my first question will be a repeat of what perplexed Lanier to the point where he just ran out of things to say, ending his essay with a few potential explanations and then stumbling through a last paragraph about his word count.
I think Lanier's perfectly right to ask this question. He spends plenty of time explaining what he means, and even as a deep lover of music, and, more importantly, someone who REALLY hates when people complain about new generations being inferior to the previous ones (there isn't a better way to instantly become old), he certainly has a point. Pop music, the kinds of things that really become huge, is largely the same as it has been for quite some time. I agree this far in his argument, but I think there might be other issues involved that he fails to address.
First, when was the last time what was truly popular was actually, genuinely good and refreshing and new? Even Michael Jackson, whom I'd argue was pretty awesome during his time, was not particularly innovative with his sound. Under Lanier's definition of "new," there really hasn't been music both "new" AND "pop" (meaning not just the genre, but the popularity level) in longer than just a decade. Second, while this may be a bit perplexing, and is undoubtedly the result of some loose combination of the six suggestions he brings up, is this necessarily a bad thing?
What appears to be happening is that with the almost explosively expanding music world (I'd be willing to wager that the shear volume of albums produced in the past 10 years, likely technology related in its expansion, exceeds the total production of history before that, though i have no proof), "pop" music has been diluted, and innovation, as it always has, has been pushed to the outside. What's interesting, is that this innovation is actually pretty big. Small sects of loyal followings cluster into new genres (not just derivitives and amalgamations of other genres) and nearly push forth into "pop" culture. Around the world, artists like Bjork (she comes up a lot here), Sigur Ros, and Cornelius are all doing things much larger than living in the "corners" of the world, just not quite as powerful in this country. What could be seen as enormously popular in one sub-culture, even LARGE subcultures like the "hipster" crowd (typing it in an academic setting makes me slightly nauseous), isn't quite enough to get everyone's teenage little sister singing along.
So what I'm trying to say, is that we've gone on a long time as it is without having the masses following along with the fringe (the really large fringe) innovations. I know I don't answer why people are content with the same old thing, it's baffling to me too. When I hear my neighbors playing music at a party that's the exact same garbage (literally the same songs) that were around in middle school and high school, I can't understand. How come people find something stale and boring and say "No more! If it's new, i don't want it!"? The masses have become old grandmothers, and unlike Lanier's suggestion that we can't just remain aloof, I say we let her rot in a nursing home and keep supporting new sounds.
And my second question relates to Keller's essay about how listening becomes performance. How would this relate to recent trends of things like Rockband, Guitar Hero, and increasing worldwide karaoke interest relate to this? This is interactive of course, blurring listener and performance, but it's also stirring up speculation about how this could be affecting interest in real musical instruments (both positively and negatively). The change here in techonology might indeed change how we make culture. I'm not sure.
Finally, I just wanted to post this video of the Raymond Scott Quartet--because I'm a huge fan of Looney Tunes, and this music, and had no idea who was really behind it until Sound Unbound.
(plus it's shot really well. I'd write about music videos in relation to Ken Jordan, but maybe another time!)
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