tag:theconversation.com,2011:/ca/topics/sounds-16945/articlesSounds – The Conversation2023-08-14T12:25:46Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2105982023-08-14T12:25:46Z2023-08-14T12:25:46Z3 ways AI is transforming music<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542381/original/file-20230811-32504-6469wf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C42%2C9428%2C5250&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Musicians and producers can already utilize AI to realistically reproduce the sound of any instrument or voice imaginable.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/blue-musical-instrument-wall-royalty-free-image/1283143454?phrase=digital+musical+instruments&adppopup=true">Paul Campbell/iStock via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Each fall, I begin my course <a href="https://et.iupui.edu/departments/mat/research/machine-musician-lab1/">on the intersection of music and artificial intelligence</a> by asking my students if they’re concerned about AI’s role in composing or producing music.</p>
<p>So far, the question has always elicited a resounding “yes.” </p>
<p>Their fears can be summed up in a sentence: AI will create a world where music is plentiful, but musicians get cast aside.</p>
<p>In the upcoming semester, I’m anticipating a discussion about Paul McCartney, who in June 2023 announced that he and a team of audio engineers had used machine learning to uncover a “lost” vocal track of John Lennon <a href="https://www.cnbc.com/2023/06/13/paul-mccartney-says-ai-got-john-lennons-voice-on-last-beatles-record.html">by separating the instruments from a demo recording</a>. </p>
<p>But resurrecting the voices of <a href="https://www.wired.com/2011/12/ueki-loid-speech-synthesizer/">long-dead artists</a> is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what’s possible – and what’s already being done.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2023/jun/23/paul-mccartney-says-theres-nothing-artificial-in-new-beatles-song-made-using-ai">In an interview</a>, McCartney admitted that AI represents a “scary” but “exciting” future for music. To me, his mix of consternation and exhilaration is spot on. </p>
<p>Here are three ways AI is changing the way music gets made – each of which could threaten human musicians in various ways:</p>
<h2>1. Song composition</h2>
<p>Many programs can already generate music with a simple prompt from the user, such as “Electronic Dance with a Warehouse Groove.”</p>
<p><a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/frobt.2021.680586/full">Fully generative apps</a> train AI models on extensive databases of existing music. This enables them to learn musical structures, harmonies, melodies, rhythms, dynamics, timbres and form, and generate new content that stylistically matches the material in the database.</p>
<p>There are many examples of these kinds of apps. But the most successful ones, like <a href="https://boomy.com">Boomy</a>, allow nonmusicians to generate music and then post the AI-generated results on Spotify to earn money. <a href="https://www.foxbusiness.com/lifestyle/spotify-removes-ai-generated-songs-platform">Spotify recently removed many of these Boomy-generated tracks</a>, claiming that this would protect human artists’ rights and royalties.</p>
<p>The two companies quickly came to an agreement that allowed Boomy to re-upload the tracks. But the algorithms powering these apps still have a <a href="https://scholarship.law.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1108&context=jlt">troubling ability to infringe upon existing copyright</a>, which might go unnoticed to most users. After all, basing new music on a data set of existing music is bound to cause noticeable similarities between the music in the data set and the generated content. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Yellow and pink poster attached to a lamp post that reads 'artificial intelligence plus human stupidity equals bangers.'" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542358/original/file-20230811-17-o479w3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542358/original/file-20230811-17-o479w3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542358/original/file-20230811-17-o479w3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542358/original/file-20230811-17-o479w3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542358/original/file-20230811-17-o479w3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542358/original/file-20230811-17-o479w3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542358/original/file-20230811-17-o479w3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A poster for the AI music service Boomy in Austin, Texas.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/poster-for-the-ai-music-creation-service-boomy-austin-texas-news-photo/1475137303?adppopup=true">Smith Collection/Gado/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Furthermore, streaming services like Spotify and <a href="https://music.amazon.com/">Amazon Music</a> are naturally incentivized to develop their own <a href="https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/amazon-music-strikes-playlist-partnership-with-generative-ai-music-company-endel12/">AI music-generation technology</a>. Spotify, for instance, <a href="https://dittomusic.com/en/blog/how-much-does-spotify-pay-per-stream/#:%7E:text=Spotify%20pays%20artists%20between%20%240.003,holders%20and%2030%25%20to%20Spotify.">pays 70% of the revenue of each stream</a> to the artist who created it. If the company could generate that music with its own algorithms, it could cut human artists out of the equation altogether.</p>
<p>Over time, this could mean more money for giant streaming services, less money for musicians – and a less human approach to making music.</p>
<h2>2. Mixing and mastering</h2>
<p>Machine-learning-enabled apps that help musicians balance all of the instruments and clean up the audio in a song – what’s known as mixing and mastering – are valuable tools for those who lack the experience, skill or resources to pull off professional-sounding tracks. </p>
<p>Over the past decade, AI’s integration into music production has revolutionized how music is mixed and mastered. AI-driven apps like <a href="https://www.landr.com">Landr</a>, <a href="https://cryo-mix.com">Cryo Mix</a> and <a href="https://www.izotope.com">iZotope’s Neutron</a> can automatically analyze tracks, balance audio levels and remove noise. </p>
<p>These technologies streamline the production process, allowing musicians and producers to focus on the creative aspects of their work and leave some of the technical drudgery to AI. </p>
<p>While these apps undoubtedly take some work away from professional mixers and producers, they also allow professionals to quickly complete less lucrative jobs, <a href="https://mackie.com/en/blog/all/8_Ways_Earn_Money_Music_Production.html">such as mixing or mastering for a local band</a>, and focus on high-paying commissions that require more finesse. These apps also allow musicians to produce more professional-sounding work without involving an audio engineer they can’t afford. </p>
<h2>3. Instrumental and vocal reproduction</h2>
<p>Using “tone transfer” algorithms <a href="https://mawf.io">via apps like Mawf</a>, musicians can transform the sound of one instrument into another. </p>
<p>Thai musician and engineer <a href="https://yaboihanoi.com">Yaboi Hanoi’s</a> song “<a href="https://youtu.be/n2bj5R5o9mE">Enter Demons & Gods</a>,” which won the third international <a href="https://youtu.be/1VH-0EAXutU">AI Song Contest</a> in 2022, was unique in that it was influenced not only by Thai mythology, but also by the sounds of native Thai musical instruments, which have a non-Western system of intonation. One of the most technically exciting aspects of Yaboi Hanoi’s entry was the reproduction of a traditional Thai woodwind instrument – <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/501870">the pi nai</a> – <a href="https://youtu.be/PbrRoR3nEVw">which was resynthesized</a> to perform the track.</p>
<p>A variant of this technology lies at the core of the <a href="https://www.vocaloid.com">Vocaloid voice synthesis software</a>, which allows users to produce convincingly human vocal tracks with swappable voices. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2023/03/05/ai-voice-scam/">Unsavory applications of this technique</a> are popping up outside of the musical realm. For example, AI voice swapping has been used to scam people out of money. </p>
<p>But musicians and producers can already use it to realistically reproduce the sound of any instrument or voice imaginable. The downside, of course, is that this technology can rob instrumentalists of the opportunity to perform on a recorded track.</p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="14" data-image="" data-title="Using tone transfer, a singer's voice is turned into the sound of a trumpet." data-size="296160" data-source="Jason Palamara" data-source-url="" data-license="CC BY" data-license-url="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/2861/tone-transfer-vocal-to-trumpet.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
Using tone transfer, a singer’s voice is turned into the sound of a trumpet.
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jason Palamara</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a><span class="download"><span>289 KB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/2861/tone-transfer-vocal-to-trumpet.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
</div></p>
<h2>AI’s Wild West moment</h2>
<p>While I applaud Yaboi Hanoi’s victory, I have to wonder if it will encourage musicians to use AI to fake a cultural connection where none exists.</p>
<p>In 2021, Capitol Music Group made headlines by signing an “AI rapper” that had been given the avatar of a Black male cyborg, but which was really the work of Factory New non-Black software engineers. The backlash was swift, with the record label roundly excoriated <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/newsbeat-62659741">for blatant cultural appropriation</a>. </p>
<p>But AI musical cultural appropriation is easier to stumble into than you might think. With the extraordinary size of songs and samples that comprise the data sets used by apps like Boomy – see the open source “Million Song Dataset” <a href="http://millionsongdataset.com">for a sense of the scale</a> – there’s a good chance that a user may unwittingly upload a newly generated track that pulls from a culture that isn’t their own, or cribs from an artist in a way that too closely mimics the original. Worse still, it won’t always be clear who is to blame for the offense, and current U.S. copyright laws are contradictory and woefully inadequate to the task of regulating these issues.</p>
<p>These are all topics that have come up in my own class, which has allowed me to at least inform my students of the dangers of unchecked AI and how to best avoid these pitfalls. </p>
<p>At the same time, at the end of each fall semester, I’ll again ask my students if they’re concerned about an AI takeover of music. At that point, and with a whole semester’s experience investigating these technologies, most of them say they’re excited to see how the technology will evolve and where the field will go. </p>
<p>Some dark possibilities do lie ahead for humanity and AI. Still, at least in the realm of musical AI, there is cause for some optimism – assuming the pitfalls are avoided.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/210598/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jason Palamara does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>AI can streamline the painstaking work of mixing and editing tracks. But it’s also easy to see how AI-generated music will make more money for giant streaming services at the expense of artists.Jason Palamara, Assistant Professor of Music Technology, Indiana UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2020902023-03-24T12:05:49Z2023-03-24T12:05:49ZMisophonia: nearly one in five UK adults have the condition causing extreme reactions to certain sounds<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517205/original/file-20230323-587-9dyygk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3800%2C2138&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Around 18% of the people in our study were likely to have misophonia.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/young-student-guy-feels-upset-isolated-2175715551">silverkblackstock/ Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Many of us have sounds that we find to be annoying. But for some people, certain sounds actually trigger extreme reactions. It’s a disorder known as <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnins.2022.841816/full">misophonia</a>, where sounds like chewing, sniffing and pen clicking can cause intense emotional reactions – and sometimes even physical reactions, such as an elevated heart rate and spike in blood pressure.</p>
<p>As it turns out, this condition is more common than many realise, as our recent study showed. We estimate that nearly <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0282777">one in five adults</a> in the UK may have misophonia. </p>
<p>To conduct our study, a survey was completed by 772 people, who were selected to create a sample that represented the UK population in terms of age, gender and ethnicity. The survey included a new questionnaire called the S-Five, a tool which helps us measure a person’s likelihood of having misophonia. </p>
<p>The S-Five includes 25 statements, asking how participants react to various sounds and the effect it has on them. For example, the survey included statements such as, “If I cannot avoid certain sounds, I feel helpless” and “My job opportunities are limited because of my reaction to certain noises”. </p>
<p>Participants were asked to rate how true each statement was for them on a scale from zero to ten (ten being very true). The survey also contained a list of 37 common trigger sounds – such as loud chewing and repetitive sniffing – and participants were asked to select their typical emotional reaction to those sounds (including a “no feeling” option). </p>
<p>They were then asked to rate the intensity of their reaction to each sound on a scale from zero to ten. The survey also asked participants whether they were currently experiencing symptoms of depression and anxiety. </p>
<p>In addition to the survey, psychologists interviewed a selection of 29 people from the survey sample, plus a further 26 people who self-identified with having misophonia. The psychologists asked more detailed questions about the person’s reactions to sounds and the impact of these reactions. </p>
<p>At the end of the interviews, the psychologists rated whether they thought the person had misophonia or not, based on the nature of their reactions and how much they avoided things or needed strategies to be able to cope with certain sounds. The information from these interviews was then used to find a cut-off score for misophonia on the S-Five survey, which in turn was used to find the prevalence of misophonia. </p>
<p>For the purposes of our study, we considered someone likely to have misophonia if they consistently reported that hearing certain sounds had a significant burden on them and affected their daily life. We also included people with <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2022.897901/full">“sub-clinical” misophonia</a> – which is when sounds cause a significant problem, but do not affect their daily life.</p>
<p>We were able to estimate that around 18% of the participants in our sample were likely to have misophonia. There was no difference between men and women in terms of the prevalence and severity of misophonia. Age had some relationship to a person’s likelihood of experiencing misophonia, with people reporting less severe reactions the older they were. </p>
<p>We also found that just under 14% of participants were familiar with the term misophonia, which means there are likely to be many people who have intense reactions to sounds but do not yet know the term to describe this problem.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A man writes on a piece of paper using a ballpoint pen." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517211/original/file-20230323-28-l0aqn7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517211/original/file-20230323-28-l0aqn7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517211/original/file-20230323-28-l0aqn7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517211/original/file-20230323-28-l0aqn7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517211/original/file-20230323-28-l0aqn7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517211/original/file-20230323-28-l0aqn7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517211/original/file-20230323-28-l0aqn7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Pen clicking, sniffing and chewing are all common trigger noises for people with misophonia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://unsplash.com/photos/OQMZwNd3ThU">Scott Graham/ Unsplash</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These results are similar to what other studies have found. One US study showed that 17.3% of a general population <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2022.897901/full">sample had misophonia</a>. They also found that those with misophonia were slightly younger than those without. </p>
<p>The prevalence of misophonia was higher in women than men, unlike our study which found no difference. Another US-based study found that only around 11% of their participants were <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s12144-022-04180-x">familiar with the term misophonia</a>.</p>
<h2>Annoying noises</h2>
<p>Finding certain sounds annoying doesn’t necessarily mean you have misophonia. Our study showed that 85% of people find sounds like chewing, sniffing and dogs barking repeatedly (all common misophonia trigger sounds) to be annoying. A further 75% of people had a problem with slurping, loud breathing and coughing. </p>
<p>It’s the nature of how a person reacts to such sounds that determines if they have misophonia. While the average person might react to sounds such as loud chewing with irritation and disgust, people with misophonia will <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2624-8611/3/4/41">react with anger or panic</a> to the same sounds, as our previous study showed.</p>
<p>People with misophonia may also feel <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2624-8611/3/4/41#">trapped or helpless</a> when they can’t avoid certain sounds. They might also worry about having aggressive outbursts, feel bad about their reactions and miss out on social events as a result of these triggering sounds. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.audiologyonline.com/articles/hyperacusis-1223">Misophonia was first recognised in 2001</a>, but was <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnins.2022.841816/full">only just acknowledged</a> as a disorder in 2022. It’s no wonder that many people – even those seriously affected by misophonia – are unaware of it. We hope that our study may provide some comfort to people who thought they were alone in their extreme reactions to everyday sounds.</p>
<p>We also hope our study will raise awareness of the condition, so that people with misophonia can get the help they need. While there’s no sign of a cure in sight, <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/da.23127">cognitive behavioural therapy</a> may help reduce the severity of misophonia.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/202090/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jane Gregory receives funding from The Wellcome Trust and is on the scientific advisory board for SoQuiet, a misophonia charity.
The research was funded by the National Institute for Health and Care Research (NIHR) Maudsley Biomedical Research Centre and the Wellcome Trust.</span></em></p>Sounds such as sniffing, chewing and pen clicking are common tigger sounds for people with misophonia.Jane Gregory, Doctor of Clinical Psychology, University of OxfordLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1947332023-01-18T19:23:35Z2023-01-18T19:23:35ZDrip, drip, drip. Why is my leaking tap keeping me awake at night?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/496028/original/file-20221117-5721-hem8al.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C998%2C661&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/bathroom-tap-leaking-water-drops-saving-649340482">Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>People describe the sound of a dripping tap in the middle of the night as anything from <a href="https://twitter.com/loserssaywot/status/1291196310909902848">annoying</a> to <a href="https://twitter.com/caffandconcrete/status/1111932062708183040">torture</a>. Others sleep through, seemingly oblivious.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1111932062708183040"}"></div></p>
<p>But if this common sound is keeping you awake, you can do something about it.</p>
<p>Here are some tips of how to rethink the sound of your leaking tap, which should help bring you a decent night’s sleep.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-do-we-wake-around-3am-and-dwell-on-our-fears-and-shortcomings-169635">Why do we wake around 3am and dwell on our fears and shortcomings?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Taps, snoring, roosters, traffic</h2>
<p>Dripping taps, a partner snoring, the neighbour’s roosters, traffic noise. All can be the nemeses of the land of nod. </p>
<p>Unwanted light can also interrupt our sleep but we can close our eyes to block it out. We cannot close our ears to silence these disruptive noises.</p>
<p>So unless we wear ear plugs or very expensive noise-cancelling headphones, sounds at night will vibrate our ear drums, be converted to nerve impulses and wend their way up to the brain. </p>
<p>So we can hear these sounds if we are awake. If we’re asleep already, they may wake us.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/clicks-bonks-and-dripping-taps-listen-to-the-calls-of-6-frogs-out-and-about-this-summer-150084">Clicks, bonks and dripping taps: listen to the calls of 6 frogs out and about this summer</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Why are some sounds more likely to wake us?</h2>
<p>Sounds that are loud, variable, unpredictable and meaningful are most likely to wake us. </p>
<p>We analyse meaning in the top or “smart” part of the brain, the cerebral cortex. This receives the information from the ears, even when we are asleep, and assesses the importance of the sound. </p>
<p>We are much more likely to awaken to the sound of <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/j.1469-8986.1974.tb00815.x">our own name</a> than another name. A baby’s cry at night can wake us to feed it. Unusual sounds, possibly indicating danger, are more likely to wake us. Loud sounds, usually indicating something is getting very close, will wake us.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1291196310909902848"}"></div></p>
<p>It is perhaps a good thing we cannot close our ears when we fall asleep. Having our ears “open” to potential danger while asleep may have been helpful for our ancestors, improving their chances of survival and our own subsequent existence.</p>
<p>How deeply we’re sleeping also affects if sounds wake us. Our sleep pattern is like a roller coaster. We first descend into deep sleep then ascend into light sleep <a href="https://www.sleephealthfoundation.org.au/pdfs/Facts-About-Sleep.pdf">about every 90 minutes</a>. During phases of light sleep, we are much more likely to be awoken by noises, even if they are soft and regular. </p>
<p>These light phases of sleep have probably served as brief “sentry” points across the sleep period. They may have helped our ancestors survive any night-time threats.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Fan next to someone asleep in bed" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500901/original/file-20221214-525-srnvx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">We can get used to regular or predictable sounds, such as a whirring fan.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/man-sleeping-on-bed-turn-fan-1469214524">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Sounds that are soft, regular, familiar, predictable and unimportant are not likely to awaken us.</p>
<p>We can also become used to regular or predictable sounds, such as a dripping tap, refrigerator or fan. That’s because over time our brain predicts the regular pattern, gets used to it, and doesn’t perceive it as a threat.</p>
<p>But a change in the pattern of the sound, such as when it suddenly stops, can wake us.</p>
<p>We have completed a <a href="https://academic.oup.com/sleep/article/45/8/zsac085/6568580?login=false">large sleep study</a> of the effects of wind farm noise. We found no objective disturbance to sleep of typical intensity wind farm noise, which is a soft noise and regular. </p>
<p>To our surprise, even people who reported they found the wind farm noise annoying at home and felt it disturbed their sleep were not, in fact, woken by it. Nor was there any disruption of the objectively measured quality of their sleep.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/what-is-brown-noise-can-this-latest-tiktok-trend-really-help-you-sleep-188528">What is brown noise? Can this latest TikTok trend really help you sleep?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>OK, so how about taps?</h2>
<p>Sounds that represent a possible threat or challenge are much more likely to wake us. They are also more likely to stop us from falling asleep even when they are at low intensity and regular, such as a dripping tap.</p>
<p>The tap might be a challenge because it represents a job needing to be done, or a waste of water. But the strongest threat of the dripping tap on our sleep may be the belief that it will keep us awake and therefore affect how we function the next day. </p>
<p>The nightly association of the sound of the dripping tap with worry about our sleep and its “downstream” effects can trigger an anxious “fight or flight” response. This further delays us falling asleep. It can also develop into an “alert” habit, contributing to developing insomnia.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/znWdpx5W-e0?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Dripping laundry tap or existential crisis?</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What can I do about it?</h2>
<p>Cognitive/behaviour therapy for insomnia is a <a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-is-insomnia-and-what-can-you-do-about-it-36365">very effective treatment</a>.</p>
<p>This cognitive approach may involve re-interpreting the meaning or threat the dripping tap poses.</p>
<p>Depending on its rate, you could interpret the dripping noises positively as someone’s heart beating regularly. If it drips at a slower rate, you could synchronise your breathing in a meditative-type practice to relax.</p>
<p>Alternatively, it may be quicker to wear earplugs, or fix the tap. </p>
<p>If you have insomnia, the dripping tap is unlikely to be the only trigger. So behavioural therapies can be used to increase your drive for sleep and ensure sleep, regardless of annoying noises.</p>
<p>A GP is a good place to start discussions about the option of referring you to a sleep psychologist to treat severe, chronic insomnia.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-is-insomnia-and-what-can-you-do-about-it-36365">Explainer: what is insomnia and what can you do about it?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/194733/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Leon Lack receives funding from the Australian Research Council and the National Health and Medical Research Council. </span></em></p>Here are some tips of how to rethink the sound of your leaking tap, which should help bring you a decent night’s sleep. Or you could just fix the tap.Leon Lack, Professor of Psychology, Flinders UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1885282022-08-31T03:47:21Z2022-08-31T03:47:21ZWhat is brown noise? Can this latest TikTok trend really help you sleep?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481034/original/file-20220825-4816-vqhkb7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=63%2C31%2C1851%2C1241&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.pexels.com/photo/tranquil-woman-resting-on-yoga-mat-in-earphones-at-home-4498187/">Karolina Grabowska/Pexels</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The latest TikTok trend has us listening to <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@playpositiveaffirmations/video/7066998773976747270?is_copy_url=1&is_from_webapp=v1&q=playpositiveaffirmations&t=1660266459258">brown noise</a>. According to TikTok, this has <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@adhd_assist/video/7065773526845852934?is_from_webapp=v1&item_id=7065773526845852934&lang=en">multiple benefits</a> including helping you relax and quickly fall into a deep asleep.</p>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-731" class="tc-infographic" height="400px" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/731/d4b6aaa42ea3a50ba1d29b0ea460527ab1b5088d/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>Getting <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2352721816301292">insufficient sleep</a>, and <a href="https://www.sleephealthfoundation.org.au/pdfs/Special_Reports/SHF_Insomnia_Report_2019_Final_SHFlogo.pdf">insomnia</a> are common. So it’s no wonder many people are looking for ways to improve their sleep. </p>
<p>But can brown noise help? If so, how? And what is brown noise anyway?</p>
<h2>What is brown noise? Is it like white noise?</h2>
<p>Brown noise, the better-known white noise, and even pink noise are examples of <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2016/02/white-noise-sound-colors/462972/">sonic hues</a>. These are “constant” noises with minimal sound variation – highs, lows and changing speeds – compared with sounds such as music or someone reading aloud. </p>
<p>What distinguishes brown noise from white or pink is the pitch (or frequency).</p>
<p>White noise describes sound spread evenly across frequencies. It includes low, mid-range and high frequencies, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2iL1Ce1PZFM">sounds</a> like radio static.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2iL1Ce1PZFM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">White noise sounds like radio static.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Pink noise has more low- and less high-frequency sound. It is lower and deeper than white noise, similar to steady <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXtimhT-ff4">rainfall</a>.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZXtimhT-ff4?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Pink noise noise sounds like steady rainfall.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Brown noise contains lower frequencies than both white and pink noise. It <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RqzGzwTY-6w&t=27s">sounds deeper</a>, similar to a rushing river or rough surf.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RqzGzwTY-6w?wmode=transparent&start=27" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Brown noise sounds like rough surf.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Why does noise help some people sleep?</h2>
<p>Some people are more sensitive to external stimuli than others. That includes human touch (such as hugs), strong smells, caffeine, bright lights, or <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4918655/">noise</a>.</p>
<p>So one person can find a sound soothing or relaxing while another finds it distracting and annoying. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1541434501959942144"}"></div></p>
<p>Several theories may explain why some people perceive benefits from sonic hues.</p>
<p><strong>1. Distraction and relaxation</strong></p>
<p>Noise can redirect and distract you from excessive overthinking or worrying. Some <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30427881/">research shows</a> listening to music helps people to mentally relax, which may help sleep. However, if your thoughts are worrisome or strong, noise alone may not be enough to distract your busy mind. </p>
<p><strong>2. Sound masking</strong></p>
<p>Our brain continues to process external sounds when we sleep and loud noise can <a href="https://theconversation.com/curious-kids-why-cant-people-hear-in-their-sleep-132441">wake us</a>. But masking, through constant background noise, “drowns out” isolated loud noise. In a quiet country town, the same car alarm or dog barking will sound much louder and may be more likely to wake us, than in a busy city centre.</p>
<p><strong>3. Classical conditioning</strong></p>
<p><a href="https://www.simplypsychology.org/classical-conditioning.html">Classical conditioning</a> is a way of learning and can explain how we respond to noise during sleep. If noise is relaxing, then pairing noise with sleep may improve the person’s ability to fall and remain asleep. In this way, noise is a reinforced stimulus for good sleep. If noise is annoying then it will hinder sleep and be a reinforcing stimulus for interrupted sleep. </p>
<p><strong>4. Auditory stimulation</strong></p>
<p><a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnins.2022.755958/full">Auditory stimulation</a> is not specific to pink, white or brown noise. This involves <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0896627313002304?via%3Dihub">low-frequency</a> tones being played in an attempt to “boost” certain sleep stages (for instance, “deep” sleep), perhaps improving sleep quality.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/what-the-nap-apps-can-really-tell-you-about-your-sleep-61431">What the nap apps can really tell you about your sleep</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>So, is TikTok right? Does brown noise work?</h2>
<p>Researchers have not specifically examined the impact of brown noise on sleep. However, there is some limited science about the impact of white or pink noise. </p>
<p>Some <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1087079220301283">studies</a> suggest white and pink noise helps us fall asleep quicker and improves sleep quality, but the quality of science is low.</p>
<p>Auditory stimulation may improve memory in <a href="https://academic.oup.com/sleep/article/41/5/zsy031/4841646">young healthy people</a>. Auditory stimulation using pink noise may <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43856-022-00096-6">increase slow-wave sleep</a> (deep sleep) in older people.</p>
<p>Few studies have directly examined how improved sleep using noise benefits daytime mood and functioning. Ultimately, these are the benefits most of us seek from a good night’s sleep.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/is-it-possible-to-catch-up-on-sleep-we-asked-five-experts-98699">Is it possible to catch up on sleep? We asked five experts</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>When to get your sleep problems checked out</h2>
<p>If you have <a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-is-insomnia-and-what-can-you-do-about-it-36365">persistent difficulty</a> falling or remaining asleep, are waking too early, and are feeling unrefreshed during the day, your problems should be checked by a medical professional. Your GP can diagnose, provide treatment options and refer you for treatment if needed.</p>
<p>Relaxation and noise may improve your sleep. However, evidence-based techniques, such as <a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-is-cognitive-behaviour-therapy-37351">cognitive behavioural therapy</a> <a href="https://www.acpjournals.org/doi/10.7326/M15-2175">for insomnia</a>, delivered by a trained health expert, is generally required to address the cause of your sleep issues.</p>
<p>This therapy usually takes place with a psychologist, over four to five sessions. It involves addressing thoughts and behaviours around sleep, looks at why sleep problems may have developed, and how to improve them. </p>
<p>Treating sleep problems appropriately with evidence-based treatments and before they develop into a chronic issue – not relying on recommendations on TikTok – will ultimately lead to better sleep in the long term.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>If you’re worried about your sleep, here are some <a href="https://www.sleephealthfoundation.org.au/common-sleep-disorders.html">great online resources</a> and <a href="https://www.sleephealthfoundation.org.au/fact-sheets.html">fact sheets</a> from the Sleep Health Foundation.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/188528/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gemma Paech is a board member of the Sleep Health Foundation. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gorica Micic does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Brown noise sounds like the ocean and some people say it helps them sleep. Here’s what the science actually says.Gemma Paech, Conjoint Senior Lecturer, School of Medicine and Public Health, University of NewcastleGorica Micic, Postdoctoral research fellow, Flinders UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1822632022-06-23T21:29:32Z2022-06-23T21:29:32ZHow powerful sounds of protest amplify resistance — Podcast<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470041/original/file-20220621-25-8rvwsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=27%2C20%2C4507%2C2991&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Sound researchers believe sound is an element of resistance. Here a protester holds a 'Black Lives Matter" megaphone at a protest in New York City in 2020.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.cpimages.com/CS.aspx?VP3=DamView&VBID=2RLQ2JSMH1VPZ&PN=1&WS=SearchResults">AP Photo/John Minchillo</a></span></figcaption></figure><iframe height="480px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/fb609e39-d729-4a54-860a-8a411be157ae?dark=false&show=true"></iframe>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-572" class="tc-infographic" height="100" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/572/661898416fdc21fc4fdef6a5379efd7cac19d9d5/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>When you think of a protest, one that fills the streets, do you remember the visuals of what you saw? Visually striking images are often circulated by news media — like the one we’ve used for this article.</p>
<p>But can you also close your eyes and remember the sounds that surrounded you? </p>
<p>For me, sound has always resonated — it’s sometimes what I remember, long after the streets are empty and quiet again. </p>
<p>Maybe it’s the sound of a chant “No Justice No Peace” or “I Can’t Breathe” at a Black Lives Matter protest. Or a theatre shaking from <a href="https://twitter.com/writevinita/status/1525875652955721729?s=20&t=CGMSVCBqxbedsLRHdmeOuA">feet stomping after a speech by a brown queer rights activist</a>. I can still hear that. I also remember the sound of Toronto police horses clopping on concrete during the <a href="https://nowtoronto.com/news/yonge-street-riot-documentary">1992 protest against police brutality</a>.</p>
<p>Everyday sounds are important too. The normal sounds of a Saturday: music from a fruit stall, neighbours yelling “hey” to each other, the clattering of the Q train in Brooklyn. These sounds can define a neighbourhood. And if we don’t pay attention to them, as life changes, <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/interactive/2022/saving-sounds-an-ancient-city/">sounds can disappear</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A person drums and sings with supporters in Winnipeg to protest against the construction of a pipeline on Wet'suwet'en territory." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470102/original/file-20220621-13681-jw2nyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In this 2020 photo, protesters in Winnipeg sing in support of the Wet'suwet'en nation’s protest to keep pipeline workers out of the B.C. First Nation’s traditional territory.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.cpimages.com/CS.aspx?VP3=DamView&VBID=2RLQ2JSM1LPM5&PN=1&WS=SearchResults">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Mike Sudoma</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="https://dont-call-me-resilient.simplecast.com/episodes/the-powerful-sounds-of-protest">In today’s episode of <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em></a>, I speak with two people involved in sound studies who believe sound is an element of resistance. They explain why — in our hyper-visualized age of Instagram-perfect photos — <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S1355771821000248">sound is so compelling</a> and why soundscapes can help to amplify voices of resistance.</p>
<p>Nimalan Yoganathan is a PhD candidate at Concordia University. He studies protest tactics and he looks at how different sound practitioners have contributed to anti-racist movements. </p>
<p>I also spoke with <a href="https://daily.bandcamp.com/lifetime-achievement/norman-w-long-list">Norman W. Long</a>, a born-and-raised resident of the south side of Chicago. Norman is a sound artist, designer and composer who works to document and record the everyday reality of his community. He has graduate degrees in landscape architecture from Cornell University and in fine arts from the San Francisco Art Institute. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1004439164073529345"}"></div></p>
<p>Both our guests talk about how important it is to listen to the sounds around us as a way to critically engage with our communities, to help bridge our deep divides and to pay attention to the forces of power in our environment. They say anyone can learn to listen deeply, even children. </p>
<p>As Long invites both insiders and outsider to listen on guided soundwalks of his community, he starts with a short breathing exercise. He said: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“The practise of breathing brought me back to COVID-19 and the murder of George Floyd. In both of these instances, African-Americans are more vulnerable to contract the virus and more likely to be murdered by police. There’s also the fact that most areas with high rates of air pollution and toxins are overwhelmingly poor and African-American. When we breathe, we are mindful of our mind-body connection, our connection to each other and our connection to those who cannot breathe. We can breathe for them and listen to the street, the noises and disruptions, and join in the chorus that demand justice for Black and brown people all over the world.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This is a different kind of episode: instead of our usual interview style, we let the sound guide us. I encourage you to listen in and follow along with our conversation and playlist.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7E26_sjxbYY?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">‘Stay Alive’ by Mustafa.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Soundscapes/Credits</h2>
<ul>
<li>“<a href="https://youtu.be/x2Nx4jUEZfc">Idle No More Protest</a>,” (2012) recorded by Paula Kirman at the West Edmonton Mall</li>
<li>“<a href="https://mustafa.ffm.to/when-smoke-rises">Stay Alive</a>” <em>When Smoke Rises</em> by Mustafa</li>
<li><em>Ali</em> by Mustafa</li>
<li><a href="https://normanwlong.bandcamp.com/track/black-space-in-winter">“Black Space in Winter”</a> (2021) Produced by Norman W. Long. Recorded as part of the We Series curated by Lia Kohl and Dierdre Hackabay. Bowls, Cymbals and electronics by Norman W. Long. Recorded at Marian R. Byrnes Park. </li>
<li><a href="https://soundcloud.com/normanlong/sets/washington-park-sun-ra-sound">Washington Park Mix 2016</a> Produced by Norman W. Long</li>
<li>“<a href="https://soundcloud.com/delaurenti/n30">N30: Live at the WTO Protest</a>”
(1999), produced by Christopher DeLaurenti </li>
<li>“<a href="https://soundcloud.com/delaurenti/fergusonaugust?utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing">Fit The Description</a>”
(Ferguson, 9-13 August 2014), produced by Christopher DeLaurenti </li>
<li>“<a href="https://citiesandmemory.com">Remixing the world, one sound at a time</a>” on Cities and Memory (LA No KKK)</li>
<li>“<a href="https://audioboom.com/posts/6146907-for-and-against-donald-trump">For and against Donald Trump (2017)</a>” recorded by Aaron Rosenblum (on Cities and Memory Project) </li>
<li><a href="https://discrepant.bandcamp.com/track/thakira-jamaiya">Thakira Jama'iya</a> by Muqata’a</li>
<li><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQjRqJGZeRU">Mbana Kantako</a> from NPR and YouTube</li>
<li>“Regent Park is Toronto’s up-and-coming neighbourhood” in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c9JMRn3VmSI">BlogTo</a></li>
<li>“<a href="https://www.cbc.ca/music/junos/watch/watch-the-2022-juno-awards-1.6424880">CBC Juno Awards</a>”</li>
<li>Marshawn Lynch clip from ESPN</li>
</ul>
<h2>ICMYI in <em>The Conversation</em></h2>
<ul>
<li>“<a href="https://theconversation.com/black-lives-matter-movement-uses-creative-tactics-to-confront-systemic-racism-143273">Black Lives Matter movement uses creative tactics to confront systemic racism</a> by Nimalan Yoganathan </li>
<li><a href="https://theconversation.com/voices-hearts-and-hands-how-the-powerful-sounds-of-protest-have-changed-over-time-140192">Voices, hearts and hands – how the powerful sounds of protest have changed over time</a> by Lawrence English</li>
<li><a href="https://theconversation.com/hip-hop-is-the-soundtrack-to-black-lives-matter-protests-continuing-a-tradition-that-dates-back-to-the-blues-140879">Hip-hop is the soundtrack to Black Lives Matter protests, continuing a tradition that dates back to the blues</a> by Tyina Steptoe </li>
</ul>
<h2>Resources</h2>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S1355771821000248">"Soundscapes of Resistance: Amplifying social justice activism and aural counterpublics through field recording-based sound practices”</a> in <em>Organised Sound</em> by Nimalan Yoganathan</li>
<li><a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/listening-to-images"><em>Listening to Images</em></a> by Tina M. Campt</li>
<li><a href="https://daily.bandcamp.com/features/muqata-kamil-mangus-interview">“Parsing Muqata’a’s Personal, Potent Instrumental Hip-Hop”</a> by Lewis Gordon</li>
<li><a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/10714413.2011.597646">“Pedagogies of hope”</a> by Yasmin Jiwani</li>
<li><a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/20551940.2016.1214455">“Sounds inside: prison, prisoners and acoustical agency”</a> in <em>Sound Studies</em> by Tom Rice</li>
<li><a href="https://soundstudiesblog.com/2019/08/05/hearing-change-in-the-chocolate-city-soundwalking-as-black-feminist-method/">“Hearing Change in the Chocolate City: Soundwalking as Black Feminist Method”</a> by Allie Martin</li>
<li>“<a href="https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/the-profound-silence-of-marshawn-lynch">The Profound Silence of Marshawn Lynch</a>” by Hua Hsu</li>
<li>Jennifer Lynn Stoever: “<a href="https://iaspm-us.net/interview-series-the-sonic-color-line/">Interview Series: Jennifer Stoever, The Sonic Color Line</a>”</li>
</ul>
<h2>Follow and listen</h2>
<p>You can listen to or follow <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em> on <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876">Apple Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5zaW1wbGVjYXN0LmNvbS9qZFg0Ql9DOA">Google Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7">Spotify</a> or <a href="https://dont-call-me-resilient.simplecast.com">wherever you listen to your favourite podcasts</a>. <a href="mailto:theculturedesk@theconversation.com">We’d love to hear from you</a>, including any ideas for future episodes. Join The Conversation on <a href="https://twitter.com/ConversationCA">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheConversationCanada">Facebook</a>, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/theconversationdotcom/">Instagram</a> and <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@theconversation">TikTok</a> and use #DontCallMeResilient.</p>
<p><em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em> is produced and hosted by Vinita Srivastava. The co-producer on this episode is Lygia Navarro. Haley Lewis is a series co-producer and Vaishnavi Dandekar is an assistant producer. Jennifer Moroz is our consulting producer. Lisa Varano is our audience development editor and Scott White is the CEO of the Conversation Canada. <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em> is a production of <em>The Conversation Canada</em>. This podcast was produced with a grant for Journalism Innovation from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. </p>
<h2>Transcript</h2>
<p><a href="https://dont-call-me-resilient.simplecast.com/episodes/the-powerful-sounds-of-protest/transcript">Unedited transcript</a></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/182263/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
In today’s episode, we look at how sound and noise are used as tactics of protest and how practitioners are using environmental soundscapes to protest against racism and police brutality.Vinita Srivastava, Host + Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1611432021-06-28T12:13:31Z2021-06-28T12:13:31ZDanish children struggle to learn their vowel-filled language – and this changes how adult Danes interact<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408207/original/file-20210624-21-169i9pi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C1169%2C420&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The way Danes speak makes it much harder for Danish children to learn the language. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Fabio Trecca</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Denmark is a rich country with an extensive welfare system and strong education. Yet surprisingly, Danish children have trouble learning their mother tongue. Compared to Norwegian children, who are learning a very similar language, Danish kids on average know <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/lang.12450">30% fewer words</a> at 15 months and take nearly <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/01690965.2010.515107">two years longer to learn the past tense</a>. In “<a href="https://archive.org/details/hamletsh00shak">Hamlet</a>,” William Shakespeare famously wrote that “something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” but he might as well have been talking about the Danish language.</p>
<p>We are a <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?hl=en&user=_0jbd88AAAAJ">cognitive scientist</a> and <a href="https://pure.au.dk/portal/en/persons/fabio-trecca(76079e3a-3860-4424-8829-899ab5fa5243).html">language scientist</a> from the <a href="https://projects.au.dk/the-puzzle-of-danish/">Puzzle of Danish</a> group at Aarhus University and Cornell. Through <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/lang.12450">our research</a>, we have found that the uniquely peculiar way that Danes speak seems to make it difficult for Danish children to learn their native language – and this challenges some central tenets of the science of language.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Two spectrograms with the one for Danish a nearly continuous bar and the one for Norwegian shows sharp breaks." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=305&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=305&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=305&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408210/original/file-20210624-15-1ytzcfy.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A visual depiction of the words for ‘smoked trout’ spoken out loud in Danish (top) and Norwegian (bottom). Note how in Danish the two words completely melt into each other.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Fabio Trecca</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Why is Danish so hard?</h2>
<p>There are three main reasons why Danish is so complicated. First, with about 40 different vowel sounds – compared to between 13 and 15 vowels in English depending on dialect – Danish has one of the largest vowel inventories in the world. On top of that, Danes often turn consonants into vowel-like sounds when they speak. And finally, Danes also like to “swallow” the ends of words and omit, on average, about a quarter of all syllables. They do this not only in casual speech but also when reading aloud from written text.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/s-mOy8VUEBk?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The difficulty of Danish is no secret in Scandinavia, as seen in this clip from a Norwegian comedy TV show.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Other languages might incorporate one of these factors, but it seems that <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-phonology-of-danish-9780198242680?cc=us&lang=en&#">Danish may be unique in combining all three</a>. The result is that Danish ends up with an abundance of sound sequences with few consonants. Because consonants play an important role in helping listeners figure out where words begin and end, the preponderance of vowel-like sounds in Danish <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/lang.12325">appears to make it difficult to understand and learn</a>. It isn’t clear why or how Danish ended up with these strange quirks, but the upshot seems to be, as the German author <a href="http://www.zeno.org/Literatur/M/Tucholsky,+Kurt/Werke/1927/Eine+sch%C3%B6ne+D%C3%A4nin">Kurt Tucholsky quipped</a>, that “the Danish language is not suitable for speaking … everything sounds like a single word.”</p>
<h2>Kids learn later, adults process differently</h2>
<p>Before we could study the way Danish children learn their native language, we needed to figure out whether the peculiarities of Danish speech affected their ability to understand it. </p>
<p>To do this, our team sat Danish two-year-olds in front of a screen showing two objects, such as a car and a monkey. We then used an eye tracker to trace where the kids were <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0023830919893390">looking while listening to Danish sentences</a>.</p>
<p>When the children heard the consonant-rich “Find bilen!” – which sounds like “Fin beelen!” when spoken and means “Find the car!” – the toddlers would look at the car quite quickly.</p>
<p>However, when they heard the vowel-rich “Her er aben!” – which sounds like “heer-ahben!” and means “Here’s the monkey!” – it took the kids nearly half a second longer to look at the monkey. In this vowel-laden sentence, the boundaries between words become blurry and make it harder for the toddlers to understand what is being said. Half a second may not seem like much, but in the world of speech it is a very long time. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman speaking to her young child." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408215/original/file-20210624-15-2t427r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Children learn language by listening to people speak, but the quirks of Danish make this a harder process compared to other languages.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/small-boy-talking-to-his-mother-royalty-free-image/163870038?adppopup=true">Thanasis Zovoilis/Moment via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But does the abundance of vowels in Danish also make it more difficult for children to learn their native language? It turns out that it does. In another study, we found that <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jecp.2017.10.011">toddlers struggle to learn new words</a> when these words are sandwiched between a lot of vowels.</p>
<p>Danish children do, of course, eventually learn their native tongue. However, our group has found that the effects of the opaque Danish sound structure don’t go away when children grow up: Instead, they seem to shape the way adult Danes process their language. Denmark and Norway are closely related historically, culturally, economically and educationally. The two languages also have similar grammars, past tense systems and vocabulary. Unlike Danes, though, Norwegians actually pronounce their consonants.</p>
<p>In several experiments, we asked Danes and Norwegians to listen to sentences in which either a word was deliberately created to sound ambiguous (like a word halfway between “tent” and “dent”) or the meaning of the whole sentence was unusual (such as “The goldfish bought a boy for his sister”). We found that because Danish speech is so ambiguous, Danes <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/lang.12450">rely much more on context</a> – including what was said in the conversation before, what people know about each other and general background knowledge – to figure out what somebody is saying compared to adult Norwegians. </p>
<p>Together, these results indicate that the way people interpret language is not static, but dynamically adapts to the challenges posed by the specific language or languages they speak.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man motioning with his hands as he explains something to another person." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=565&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=565&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/408219/original/file-20210624-17-w0hjl8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=565&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Adults who speak Danish rely more on contextual clues – like what they talked about earlier and what they know about the other person – than speakers of other languages.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/businessman-discussing-project-with-coworker-royalty-free-image/596367015?adppopup=true">Thomas Barwick/Stone via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Not all languages are the same</h2>
<p>There has been a longstanding debate within the language sciences about whether all languages are <a href="https://doi.org/10.1075/hl.39.2-3.08jos">similarly complex</a> and whether this might affect how people’s brains learn and process language. Our discovery about Danish challenges the idea that all native languages are equally easy to learn and use. Indeed, learning different languages from birth may lead to distinct and separate ways of processing those languages.</p>
<p>Our results also have important practical implications for people who are struggling with language – whether because of a single traumatic event like a stroke or due to genetic and other long-term factors. Many current interventions meant to support language recovery are based on <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/02687030903437682">studies in one language, usually English</a>. Researchers assume that these interventions would apply in the same way to individuals speaking other languages. However, if languages vary substantially in the way they’re learned and processed, an intervention that might work for one language might not work as well for another.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/behavioral-and-brain-sciences/article/myth-of-language-universals-language-diversity-and-its-importance-for-cognitive-science/25D362A6566FCA4F51054D1C41104654">Linguists have looked at differences between languages before</a>, but few have been concerned with the possible impact that such differences may have on the kind of processing machinery that develops during language learning. Instead, much of the focus has been on searching for universal linguistic patterns that hold across all or most languages. However, our research suggest that linguistic diversity may result in variation in the way we learn and process language. And if a garden-variety language like Danish has such hidden depths, who knows what we’ll find when we look more closely at the rest of the <a href="http://langscape.umd.edu/map.php">world’s approximately 7,000 languages</a>?</p>
<p>[<em>Get the best of The Conversation, every weekend.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/weekly-highlights-61?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=weeklybest">Sign up for our weekly newsletter</a>.]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/161143/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The Puzzle of Danish project is supported by the Danish Council for Independent Research (FKK Grant DFF-7013-00074 to MHC).
</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Fabio Trecca receives funding from the TrygFonden foundation of Denmark. </span></em></p>Recent research on Danish shows that not only is it hard for Danish children to learn their mother tongue, but adult Danes use their native language differently than speakers of other languages.Morten H. Christiansen, The William R. Kenan, Jr., Professor of Psychology, Cornell UniversityFabio Trecca, Assistant Professor of Cognitive Science of Language, Aarhus UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1583762021-05-17T12:26:53Z2021-05-17T12:26:53ZWhy do we hate the sound of our own voices?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/400587/original/file-20210513-13-4ejtyv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C71%2C2476%2C1804&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Your voice, when played back to you, can sound unrecognizable.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/illustration/engraving-of-scary-woman-monster-with-three-royalty-free-illustration/988105126?adppopup=true">GeorgePeters/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><a href="http://scholar.google.com/citations?user=zZY5ezsAAAAJ&hl=en">As a surgeon who specializes in treating patients with voice problems</a>, I routinely record my patients speaking. For me, these recordings are incredibly valuable. They allow me to track slight changes in their voices from visit to visit, and it helps confirm whether surgery or voice therapy led to improvements.</p>
<p>Yet I’m surprised by how difficult these sessions can be for my patients. Many become visibly uncomfortable upon hearing their voice played back to them. </p>
<p>“Do I really sound like that?” they wonder, wincing. </p>
<p>(Yes, you do.) </p>
<p>Some become so unsettled they refuse outright to listen to the recording – much less go over the subtle changes I want to highlight. </p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2273.2005.01022.x">The discomfort we have over hearing our voices in audio recordings</a> is probably due to a mix of physiology and psychology.</p>
<p>For one, the sound from an audio recording is transmitted differently to your brain than the sound generated when you speak. </p>
<p>When listening to a recording of your voice, the sound travels through the air and into your ears – what’s referred to as “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-12-385157-4.00121-4">air conduction</a>.” The sound energy vibrates the ear drum and small ear bones. These bones then transmit the sound vibrations to the cochlea, which stimulates nerve axons that send the auditory signal to the brain.</p>
<p>However, when you speak, the sound from your voice reaches the inner ear in a different way. While some of the sound is transmitted through air conduction, much of the sound is <a href="https://doi.org/10.1159/000266070">internally conducted directly through your skull bones</a>. When you hear your own voice when you speak, it’s due to a blend of both external and internal conduction, and internal bone conduction appears to boost the lower frequencies. </p>
<p>For this reason, people generally perceive their voice as deeper and richer when they speak. The recorded voice, in comparison, can sound thinner and higher pitched, which many find cringeworthy.</p>
<p>There’s a second reason hearing a recording of your voice can be so disconcerting. It really is a new voice – one that exposes a difference between your self-perception and reality. <a href="https://www.npr.org/2019/07/15/741827437/finding-your-voice-how-the-way-we-sound-shapes-our-identities">Because your voice is unique and an important component of self-identity</a>, this mismatch can be jarring. Suddenly you realize other people have been hearing something else all along.</p>
<p>Even though we may actually sound more like our recorded voice to others, I think the reason so many of us squirm upon hearing it is not that the recorded voice is necessarily worse than our perceived voice. Instead, we’re simply more used to hearing ourselves sound a certain way. </p>
<p>[<em>Get the best of The Conversation, every weekend.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/weekly-highlights-61?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=weeklybest">Sign up for our weekly newsletter</a>.]</p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2273.2005.01022.x">A study published in 2005</a> had patients with voice problems rate their own voices when presented with recordings of them. They also had clinicians rate the voices. The researchers found that patients, across the board, tended to more negatively rate the quality of their recorded voice compared with the objective assessments of clinicians. </p>
<p>So if the voice in your head castigates the voice coming out of a recording device, it’s probably your inner critic overreacting – and you’re judging yourself a bit too harshly.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/158376/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Neel Bhatt does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>If you’ve ever cringed after hearing a recording of yourself, you’re not alone.Neel Bhatt, Assistant Professor of Otolaryngology, UW Medicine, University of WashingtonLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1438092020-08-24T14:48:51Z2020-08-24T14:48:51ZWhat archaeology tells us about the music and sounds made by Africa’s ancestors<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354099/original/file-20200821-18-lf1c0l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Music has been part and parcel of humanity for a long time. Not every sound is musical, but sound has meaning and sometimes the meaning of sound is specific to its context. </p>
<p>But when it comes to archaeology there is scant evidence of music or sound producing artefacts from southern Africa. This is because of poor preservation of the mostly organic materials that were used to manufacture musical instruments. Rock art offers depictions of musical instruments as well as scenes of dancing that can be linked with music performance, but here only music-related artefacts will be discussed.</p>
<p>I conducted original research as well as a survey of the literature available on these artefacts. Ethnographic sources were also consulted in order to attempt to provide a broader contextual background against which knowledge of the archaeological implements could be expanded. The <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/book/60594">Percival Kirby</a> online musical instrument <a href="https://digitalcollections.lib.uct.ac.za/percival-kirby-musical-instruments">repository</a> has also been used. Music archaeology is multidisciplinary in nature. </p>
<p>The result is one of the <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/0067270X.2020.1761686?casa_token=z6HOLccq43UAAAAA%3A6WDeEMhfWxKHzlYrtG0qcAb_IeAKhVNKZKbOlJsHabLol56zzmHJqytRlAZrQRhm4eHR4B_SBNyfLJ0">first reports</a> on southern African sound- and music-related artefacts.</p>
<p>Research in music archaeology in southern Africa has just begun. Available evidence dates back from around 10,000 years ago, from the Later Stone Age up to the Iron Age. The artefacts fall into two groups, namely <a href="https://www.britannica.com/art/aerophone">aerophones</a>, where sound is produced by vibrating air, and <a href="https://www.britannica.com/art/idiophone">idiophones</a>, where sound is produced by solid material vibrating. These artefacts include spinning disks, bullroarers, bone tubes that could have been used as flutes or whistles, clay whistles, keys from thumb pianos (also called lamellophones or mbiras), musical bells and an ivory trumpet. The list is not exhaustive and more research needs to be conducted.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man and a woman warmly dressed sorting through dug up objects in a cave." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The author and Professor Sarah Wurz digging at Klasies River.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Supplied</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These music-related or sound-producing artefacts are made from various materials, including bone, ivory, metal and clay. The artefacts show how integral sound and music production was in the socio-cultural practices of people in the past, most likely for entertainment and rituals. Sound production and music making is a sign of being fully human.</p>
<h2>Aerophones</h2>
<p>Recent experimental work <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2352409X18307612?casa_token=I77Wl8CEl-sAAAAA:MzDQ9oy-A-D6OiAUrNyfw73uOcq_dTGkFHXRRSEmpAoZCoqfjQvmc49q1r_22-AzLtUU-U_728YJ">established</a> that some Later Stone Age bone implements from the <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2352409X18307612?via%3Dihub">Klasies River</a> Mouth and <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/prehistory-of-the-matjes-river-rock-shelter/oclc/4681377">Matjes River</a> sites are a spinning disk and a bullroarer respectively. Their replicas produced powerful whirring sounds and they can be referred to as <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-our-african-ancestors-made-sound-in-the-stone-age-121142">sound-producing</a> implements even though the purpose of the sound or their use cannot be clearly ascertained. They could have been used as signalling implements, toys, in ritual settings or in musical contexts, among others. Nowadays these implements are seldom found in the region.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A flat disc shaped like a mollusc with a hole through its thin end." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bullroarer found at Matjes River.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Joshua Kumbani</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Bone tubes, mainly in bird bone, have been recovered from Later Stone Age contexts from the southern and western Cape of South Africa and some were also recovered from historical contexts. Previously, these bone tubes were interpreted as sucking tubes and beads. But morphological analysis – or studying their form – has indicated that considering the various lengths and widths as well as their smoothened ends, they could have been used as flutes or whistles. There is no a clear-cut distinction between flutes and whistles. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Brown flute-like tube with etchings on it." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=283&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=283&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=283&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=355&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=355&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=355&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bone tube from Matjie’s River.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Joshua Kumbani</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If they were used as flutes they were single tone flutes since none has finger holes that can enable the production of more tones. Some of the archaeological bone tubes bear chevron and cross hatching patterns, but it is not clear if the decorations have a meaning or were just made for aesthetic purposes. The <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/San">San</a> and Khoe people in South Africa used reed flutes in the past. Flutes are still used today by various cultural groups in South Africa, for example the Venda people in South Africa use flutes when performing the <em><a href="http://era.anthropology.ac.uk/Era_Resources/Era/VendaGirls/Definitions/DefTshikona.html">tshikona</a></em> dance. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Round, brown acorn-like object with a hole in one end." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Clay whistle from Mapungubwe.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Joshua Kumbani</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Clay whistles have been recovered from the sites of K2 and Mapungubwe from Early Iron Age contexts. Similar clay whistles are very rare and are not mentioned ethnographically, but it has been said that the Basotho herders in Lesotho used similar whistles. Whistles can also be used during a musical procession or as signalling implements in sending a message.</p>
<p>An ivory trumpet was recovered from Sofala site in Mozambique. It has a blow hole and some decorations on its body. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Intricately carved brown object." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=220&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=220&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=220&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ivory trumpet from Sofala site in Mozambique.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">University of Pretoria Museums</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Ivory trumpets are not common in southern Africa, but are known in west Africa. For example, in Ghana among the Asante people they had a spiritual significance and were associated with the royal court. Ivory trumpets are also said to have been used to announce the arrival of kings. The trumpets that are found in southern Africa are not in ivory. </p>
<h2>Idiophones</h2>
<p>Thumb piano, lamellophone or mbira keys have been recovered from the Later Iron Age contexts in Zimbabwe and in Zambia. This idiophone became popular with the introduction of iron technology and it is still used today. Some popular musicians play the lamellophone, for example <a href="https://www.stellachiweshe.com">Stella Chiweshe</a> from Zimbabwe. Mbira is closely associated with spirituality, especially among the Shona people of Zimbabwe. The lamellophone is now a common musical instrument globally.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A small, brown, rusty metal object in the shape of an oar." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=236&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=236&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=236&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=297&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=297&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=297&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Thumb piano key from Great Zimbabwe site.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Foreman Bandama</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Musical bells were found in South Africa, Zimbabwe and Zambia from Later Iron Age contexts. Both double and single bells existed and, for example, at Great Zimbabwe both were recovered. Ethnographically, musical bells are known to have originated in West and Central Africa and they were most likely introduced to southern Africa through trade. These idiophones are said to have been played to announce the arrival of kings. Musical bells are still used today.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-our-african-ancestors-made-sound-in-the-stone-age-121142">How our African ancestors made sound in the Stone Age</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Musical instruments are seldom found in the archaeological record and are not easily identifiable, so there is a lot of debate among researchers when it comes to identifying these instruments from the archaeological record. Some instruments may not have been musical instruments per se but rather sound-producing implements that were used to convey certain messages or used for ritual purposes.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/143809/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Joshua Kumbani is a PhD candidate at the University of the Witwatersrand and is a bursary recipient of the Re-Centring AfroAsia Project: Musical and Human Migrations in the Pre-Colonial Period 700-1500 AD that is funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. </span></em></p>There is not much information on artefacts used by Stone Age humans to make sound and music – but the first comprehensive survey is a good start.Joshua Kumbani, PhD Candidate, University of the WitwatersrandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1361392020-05-05T19:34:15Z2020-05-05T19:34:15ZHow COVID-19 shutdowns are allowing us to hear more of nature<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332451/original/file-20200504-83725-13i3n0b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=219%2C81%2C3953%2C2700&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Human-made sounds are giving way to more natural sounds as the COVID-19 pandemic pushes people indoors. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>On a Friday, in late February, during rush-hour in Truro, N.S., I recorded 80 seconds of noise dynamics at a four-way intersection. I returned on April 3 after the COVID-19 restrictions sent people in Canada indoors. More than just looking empty, Canada may also be quieter.</p>
<p>Canadian towns and cities are experiencing a significant decrease in their social, recreational, industrial and economic activities due to the protocols required to address COVID-19. </p>
<p>In our urban cities, audio data is more comprehensive than its visual counterpart; noise can be detected from kilometres away and emanates from hidden buildings. Humans are the dominant sound makers in most landscapes — from machinery to cars to simply being about.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/where-the-wild-things-are-how-nature-might-respond-as-coronavirus-keeps-humans-indoors-134543">Where the wild things are: how nature might respond as coronavirus keeps humans indoors</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>In February, before the pandemic brought about a large-scale societal change, I recorded audio levels of urban and nature sounds in Truro. Compared with recordings taken again in April, acoustical analyses showed a distinct decrease in urban sound signatures and an increase in natural sounds.</p>
<h2>Urban soundscapes</h2>
<p>Noise has been a concern of city dwellers since Roman times, when a <a href="https://vancouver.ca/files/cov/NoiseControlBrochure.pdf">law prohibited the driving of chariots through the cobblestone streets of Rome at night</a>. As cities modernized and industrialized, <a href="https://www.grownyc.org/files/GrowNYC/noisesurvey04.pdf">excessive noise was the foremost “quality of life” complaint in New York City</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/327342/original/file-20200412-57461-1aixrep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/327342/original/file-20200412-57461-1aixrep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=485&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/327342/original/file-20200412-57461-1aixrep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=485&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/327342/original/file-20200412-57461-1aixrep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=485&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/327342/original/file-20200412-57461-1aixrep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=609&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/327342/original/file-20200412-57461-1aixrep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=609&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/327342/original/file-20200412-57461-1aixrep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=609&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A report on the sources of city noise in New York City in 1900 included this illustration denoting the types of noises in each neighbourhood.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/285817?origin=JSTOR-pdf">(Commission for the study of noise in New York City, 1929)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Sound is measured in decibels (dB), which reflect the intensity of noise; decibels indicate the relative loudness of sounds. Each 10 dB increase corresponds to roughly a doubling of the average loudness, or noisiness, of the acoustic environment. </p>
<p>Almost everything makes a measurable noise. Standard breathing is 10 dB and normal conversation is 60 dB. Louder noises like a chainsaw are measured at 110 db, while an ambulance siren is 120 dB and a rocket launch is a whopping 180 dB. <a href="https://www.who.int/pbd/deafness/activities/MLS_Brochure_English_lowres_for_web.pdf">The World Health Organization</a> has stated that regular and prolonged exposure to noise at 85 dB (cars and trucks) and higher is considered hazardous; even hearing something that measures 100 dB (some construction and manufacturing) for just 15 minutes a day can lead to permanent hearing loss. </p>
<p>As more sounds fill our environments, however, important sounds must become louder. For example, the sound output of the police siren <a href="https://www.deeproot.com/blog/blog-entries/urban-soundscapes-creating-quiet-spaces-in-a-roaring-city">has risen 40 dB in many North American cities as a result of more traffic</a>, additional street activity and an overall increased ambient sound level. An ambulance, fire or police siren needs to be one of the highest levels of city sounds.</p>
<p>Many large cities such as <a href="https://vancouver.ca/files/cov/noise-control-manual.pdf">Vancouver</a> and <a href="https://www.toronto.ca/legdocs/mmis/2019/hl/bgrd/backgroundfile-138868.pdf">Toronto</a> have strict noise control plans to ensure public health and safety. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332456/original/file-20200504-83736-h0in3s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/332456/original/file-20200504-83736-h0in3s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=408&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332456/original/file-20200504-83736-h0in3s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=408&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332456/original/file-20200504-83736-h0in3s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=408&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332456/original/file-20200504-83736-h0in3s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332456/original/file-20200504-83736-h0in3s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/332456/original/file-20200504-83736-h0in3s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The sounds of birds and other animals are becoming easier to hear now that human-made sounds are taking up less volume in the sound landscape.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Conversely, natural sounds such as that of water, birds, animals and the changing environment are often considered <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/S0169-2046(98)00112-1">more pleasurable</a> than those within over-saturated urban environments. Acoustic ecology, a discipline founded by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Soundscape_Project">R. Murray Schafer and his team at Simon Fraser University</a>, seeks “<a href="http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/en/article/world-soundscape-project/">to find solutions for an ecologically balanced soundscape where the relationship between the human community and its sonic environment is in harmony</a>.”</p>
<p>A consumer market exists for natural soundscapes and other <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1038/srep45273">stress-relieving noises</a>. Natural sounds have a strong connection to conservation and the importance of ecological awareness. In 1949, Québecois biologists were the first to record the sounds of marine mammals <a href="https://cis.whoi.edu/science/B/whalesounds/fullCuts.cfm?SP=BB1A&YR=49">to promote conservation and awareness</a>. The new and evolving field of ecoacoustics (or bioacoustics) is already changing how researchers <a href="https://blog.nature.org/science/2018/04/25/six-ways-sound-data-is-changing-conservation/">assess ecosystem health and evaluate human impact</a>.</p>
<p>As part of the Green Infrastructure Performance Lab at Dalhousie University, I study the differences between urban and rural landscapes, and investigate the changes that occur through urbanization and human development. </p>
<p>The sounds I recorded fall in to five groups and general decibel ranges:</p>
<ul>
<li>Nature (10-50 dB): lower level noises like rustling leaves, wind and rainfall.</li>
<li>Humans (60-85 dB): noise from socio-cultural actions like sports, talking, tv/radio/phone, small tool use and more.</li>
<li>Urban life (65-95 dB): sounds from urbanized areas like sirens, footsteps, bicycles, ships, airplanes and dogs barking.</li>
<li>Vehicles (70-95 dB): sounds from road transport can indicate engine type, vehicle density and rate and the presence of paved road.</li>
<li>Work (75-100 dB): noise from construction, manufacturing, agriculture, industry and other human economic activities.</li>
</ul>
<p>In my early findings, in February, it was common to hear the sounds of vehicles and urban life — planes, cars, footsteps, barking dogs and others — sounds typically within the 60-100 dB range. </p>
<p>But in April, recordings at the same location revealed the nature noises that were no longer masked by the louder sounds of human activity: rustling leaves, wind, streams and birds — sounds of nature below the 50 dB level.</p>
<h2>The sounds of nature are important to our well-being</h2>
<p>There is an urban rhythm to city soundscapes. Studies conclude this urban background noise is <a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/665048">comforting to some</a>. Regardless, there are neurobiological mechanisms operating our <a href="http://doi.org/10.1038/srep45273">physiological and psychological reactions to natural noise stimuli</a>. Natural sounds have the capacity to sooth and impact us the ways urban sounds cannot. This is considered <a href="https://books.google.ca/books?id=kJ7K-XajW6YC&lpg=PA7&ots=63wTuxOGKI&lr&pg=PA7#v=onepage&q&f=false">biophilia</a>, or our genetic predisposition towards all things within nature.</p>
<p>Noise levels have an impact on health. Much of the research on the benefits of natural sounds point to Attentional Restoration theory and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1126/science.6143402">Stress Recovery theory</a>, which assert the body and brain’s ability to recover from fatigue or passively recharge itself.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1256385267096793089"}"></div></p>
<p>The human well-being advantages of bioacoustics or listening to natural sounds are many and include <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/srep45273">reduced heart rate</a>, <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/6793292_The_Effect_of_Auditory_Stressors_on_Cognitive_Flexibility">reduced levels of stress and anxiety</a>, <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2014-41536-007">increased positive emotions</a>, <a href="https://era.ed.ac.uk/handle/1842/31257">overall wellbeing</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1121/1.4920363">increased productivity</a>.</p>
<p>Urban lifestyles are often disconnected from the natural environment; hearing the sounds of nature can be rare for city residents. However, those sounds are there, just overshadowed by human noise.</p>
<p>Go out on the porch or deck, listen to the nature in your neighbourhood — you might even hear silence — it won’t last.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/136139/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Richard leBrasseur receives funding from the Canadian Tri-Council.</span></em></p>With people staying in, the world around them is becoming more quiet. In one Canadian city, natural sounds are being heard more often.Richard leBrasseur, Assisant Professor of Landscape Architecture and Director, Green Infrastructure Performance Lab, Dalhousie UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1261882019-11-13T19:04:00Z2019-11-13T19:04:00ZSonic havens: how we use music to make ourselves feel at home<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/301409/original/file-20191113-37420-9kj5vy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=159%2C234%2C4929%2C3437&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Music played through headphones can immerse the listener in a more intimate experience.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/young-woman-headphones-relaxing-home-late-704548654?src=a0b9e394-590f-4e1f-842d-bc66b7086854-1-5">Stokkete/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The concept of “home” refers to more than bricks and mortar. Just as cities are more than buildings and infrastructure, our homes carry all manner of emotional, aesthetic and socio-cultural significance.</p>
<p>Our research investigates music and sound across five settings: home, <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?hl=en&lr=&id=zcMuMglzyzkC&oi=fnd&pg=PA190&ots=atQw4trFNS&sig=35Ok_TO3mJYXgm3mGRt_8bFfZ0Q#v=onepage&q&f=false">work</a>, <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/soin.12232">retail spaces</a>, private <a href="https://www.emerald.com/insight/content/doi/10.1108/S0163-2396(2010)0000035015/full/html">vehicle travel</a> and <a href="https://search.informit.com.au/documentSummary;dn=200907280;res=IELAPA;type=pdf">public transport</a>. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/contested-spaces-you-cant-stop-the-music-the-sounds-that-divide-shoppers-72644">Contested spaces: you can't stop the music – the sounds that divide shoppers</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>We found our interview subjects often idealised home along the lines of what <a href="http://www.losquaderno.professionaldreamers.net/?p=1106">Rowland Atkinson terms an “aural haven”</a>. He suggests, although “homes are … rarely places of complete silence”, we tend to imagine them as “refuge[s] from unwanted sound” that offer psychic and perceptual “nourishment to us as social beings”. </p>
<p>We explored the ways in which people shape and respond to the home as a set of “<a href="http://www.professionaldreamers.net/images/losquaderno/losquaderno10.pdf">modifiable micro-soundscapes</a>”. Through 29 in-depth interviews, we examine how people use music and sound to frame the home as a type of “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2095141?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">interaction order</a>”. Erving Goffman coined this term to capture how people respond to the felt “presence” of an other. </p>
<p>That presence can be linguistic or non-linguistic, visual or acoustic. It can cross material thresholds such as walls and fences. Goffman <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=EM1NNzcR-V0C&printsec=frontcover&dq=behaviour+in+public+places&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwic9JaW6-XlAhV-73MBHRilB4oQ6AEIKDAA#v=onepage&q=work%20walls%20do&f=false">wrote</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The work walls do, they do in part because they are honoured or socially recognised as communication barriers.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Cultivating sonic havens through music</h2>
<p>As we detail in our recent <a href="https://tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/14036096.2019.1686060">essay in Housing, Theory and Society</a>, the type of listening that most closely matches the idea of the home as an aural haven is bedroom listening – by young people in particular. We found that, as well as offering “control” and “seclusion”, the bedroom gave listeners a sense of “transcendence” and immersed them in “deep” listening. One interview subject said: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>When I get a new album … I like to experience [it] by … lying down on the floor… I’ll turn the lights off and I’ll just be engaging with the music, my eyes won’t be open. </p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301405/original/file-20191113-37415-16ig9wd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">For young people in particular, listening to music in their bedroom is the classic ‘sonic haven’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/beautiful-afro-american-girl-denim-overall-706404091?src=b0cd3d30-c466-4099-b826-deed348e47cc-1-6">George Rudy/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Another reported putting on headphones to listen to special selections of music, despite not needing to. “Headphones… [is] a more intimate … kind of thing”, even in a bedroom setting.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/our-brain-computer-interfacing-technology-uses-music-to-make-people-happy-119496">Our brain-computer interfacing technology uses music to make people happy</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>When it came to music in shared spaces and in relation to neighbours, our interview subjects seemed both aware of music’s visceral powers and keen to respect the territorial or acoustic “preserves” of others. One young female sharing a house with her mother carefully curated the type of music played, and what part of the house it was played in. Her choices depended on whether her mother was home and whether she had shown interest in particular genres. </p>
<p>All respondents who lived in shared households expressed some kind of sensitivity to not playing music at night. </p>
<p>Another lived by herself in an apartment complex of five. She took deference towards neighbours seriously enough to “tinker away” on her piano only when she was sure her immediate neighbour wasn’t home. She “didn’t play the piano much” inside her flat and was only prepared to “go nuts” playing the piano in halls and other non-domestic settings.</p>
<h2>Music as a bridging ritual</h2>
<p>Another of our findings accorded with the microsociological focus on how people organise <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0226981606/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_taft_p1_i10">time</a> and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0029344204/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_taft_p1_i6">space</a> in everyday life. We found evidence, for example, of how music was used to wake up, or to transition to the weekend, or as a “bridging ritual” between work and home. </p>
<p>One interview subject remarked that he is “dressed casually anyway” when he returns from work, so his mechanism for shifting to home mode is to listen “to music … pretty much as soon as I get home … unless I’m just turning around and going straight somewhere else”. In other words, he associated the boundary between home and non-home with music and the listening rituals of returning home.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/like-to-work-with-background-noise-it-could-be-boosting-your-performance-119598">Like to work with background noise? It could be boosting your performance</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/301414/original/file-20191113-37410-1qk05zt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">For adults, playing their favourite music in the car can create the legitimate equivalent of a teenager’s bedroom.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/hand-woman-touching-screen-turning-on-1121411759?src=b1598cf2-76dc-48d6-8c72-b13052c02c04-1-2">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One of the themes in academic literature about media and the home is that electronic and digital media <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/no-sense-of-place-9780195042313?cc=au&lang=en&">blur the boundary between the inside and outside of the home</a>. There is no doubt radio, television and now various digital platforms bring the world “out there” into the immediacy and intimacy of our own domestic worlds. But, as <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/books/e/9780203033142/chapters/10.4324/9780203033142-8">Jo Tacchi noted of radio sound</a>, those sounds can also be used to weave a sonic <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0038026118825233">texture</a> of domestic comfort, security and routine. </p>
<p>We also found interesting sonic continuities between our homes and how we make ourselves at home in non-domestic settings. As <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=KEHjTYnT-MUC&q=Locked+in+our+cars#v=snippet&q=Locked%20in%20our%20cars&f=false">Christina Nippert-Eng writes</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Locked in our cars, commutes offer the working woman or man the legitimate equivalent of a teenager’s bedroom, often complete with stereo system and favourite music.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In short, sonic havens are simply “places where we can retreat into privacy”, inside or outside our literal homes.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/126188/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The music we choose to listen to not only allows us to retreat into a place of peace and privacy, but also helps frame our daily routines and interactions with others.Michael James Walsh, Assistant Professor Social Science, University of CanberraEduardo de la Fuente, Honorary Fellow, School of Humanities and Social Inquiry, University of Wollongong, University of WollongongLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1241482019-10-28T14:00:34Z2019-10-28T14:00:34ZWhy we love big, blood-curdling screams<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/298413/original/file-20191023-119419-x4f7cv.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C1937%2C1497&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A good scream can stop us in our tracks.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://media1.popsugar-assets.com/files/thumbor/VpSRrrd7Ikn43avfhTR4XK8FGmA/fit-in/1024x1024/filters:format_auto-!!-:strip_icc-!!-/2015/10/22/009/n/1922283/d636fd62513ade63_MBDPSYC_EC004_H/i/Psycho-Shower-Scene.JPG">Paramount Pictures</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Of all the sounds humans produce, nothing captures our attention quite like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFqHyCoypfM">a good scream</a>. </p>
<p>They’re a regular feature of horror films, whether it’s Marion Crane’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WtDmbr9xyY">infamous shower scream</a> in “Psycho” or Chrissie Watkins’ <a href="https://youtu.be/llBbANmMc-o?t=95">blood-curdling scream</a> at the beginning of “Jaws.” </p>
<p>Screams might seem simple, but they can actually convey a complex set of emotions. The arsenal of human screams has been honed over millions of years of evolution, with subtle nuances in volume, timing and inflection that can signal different things.</p>
<h2>Ancestral cues</h2>
<p>Screaming can be traced to the prehistoric ancestors we share with other primates, who use screams as a key component of their social repertoire.</p>
<p>Screams are especially important in monkey societies. </p>
<p>Emory University <a href="http://psychology.emory.edu/home/people/faculty/gouzoules-harold.html">psychologist Harold Gouzoules</a> is one of the world’s leading screaming experts. He’s been able to show how monkey screams convey a wealth of information. Different screams at different pitches and volumes can communicate different levels of urgency, such as whether a fight is simply about to take place or whether a predator is in the area. </p>
<p>The grammar of monkey screams can be surprisingly sophisticated. </p>
<p>African vervet monkeys, for example, have three main predators: leopards, snakes and eagles. Each type of predator requires different escape routes. To elude an eagle, the monkey must abandon wide-open spaces and seek shelter in dense shrubbery. But this would be exactly the wrong response if a snake were lurking in bushes.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/298760/original/file-20191025-173548-17icaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Vervet monkeys have developed a unique language of screams.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/cute-vervet-monkey-blur-background-portrait-614591069?src=W7m9MsMXiGoMh_F4LUjPuA-1-0">serkan mutan/Shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For this reason, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0003347280800972">vervets have evolved a pattern of distinct screams</a> that not only act as a warning but also reveal the type of predator in their midst.</p>
<p>Monkeys can even <a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/ajp.20533">identify other individual monkeys from their screams</a>. </p>
<p>This is highly adaptive, because it enables the listener to assess the importance of the screamer to the listener, facilitating the protection of children and other relatives.</p>
<h2>Why screams of terror stand out</h2>
<p>Like monkeys, humans have the ability <a href="https://neurosciencenews.com/scream-identity-14380/">to identify people they know by the sound of their screams</a>. </p>
<p><a href="https://news.emory.edu/stories/2013/10/esc_psychology_of_a_scream/campus.html">Humans produce a range of screams as well</a>: There are screams that reflect more positive emotions, such as surprise and happiness. And then there are screams of anguish, screams of pain and, of course, screams of terror. </p>
<p>Screams can be described according to their place along an acoustic dimension known as “<a href="https://www.insidescience.org/news/why-screams-are-rough-brain">roughness</a>.” </p>
<p>Roughness is a quality that reflects the rate at which a scream changes or varies in loudness. The more rapidly the loudness fluctuates, the “rougher” the scream. And the rougher a scream is, <a href="https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(15)00737-X?_returnURL=https%3A%2F%2Flinkinghub.elsevier.com%2Fretrieve%2Fpii%2FS096098221500737X%3Fshowall%3Dtrue">the more terrifying it’s perceived to be</a>.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/llBbANmMc-o?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Rough waters, rough screams in ‘Jaws.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(15)00737-X?_returnURL=https%3A%2F%2Flinkinghub.elsevier.com%2Fretrieve%2Fpii%2FS096098221500737X%3Fshowall%3Dtrue">Psychologist David Poeppel</a> looked at brain images of people listening to recordings of human screams and found that, unlike other human vocalizations, screams get routed directly to the <a href="https://www.sciencedaily.com/terms/amygdala.htm">amygdala</a>, which is the part of the brain that processes fear, anger and other intense emotions.</p>
<p>And among the variety of human screams, it is screams of terror that stand out most vividly. <a href="https://www.livescience.com/57106-why-fingernails-on-chalkboard-hurts.html">Other unpleasant sounds</a>, such as a baby’s cry and fingernails on a chalkboard, share some of the same features that make screams unpleasant and terrifying.</p>
<h2>The best screamers survived</h2>
<p>It makes good evolutionary sense for screams of terror to be the most attention-grabbing; these are the ones that most clearly warn of an imminent danger. </p>
<p>Humans who couldn’t readily distinguish among different types of screams may not have responded with appropriate urgency in life-or-death situations. Over time, this would have diminished the frequency of their genes in the population.</p>
<p>[ <em>Insight, in your inbox each day.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/the-daily-3?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=insight">You can get it with The Conversation’s email newsletter</a>. ] </p>
<p>So we’re probably the descendants of individuals who were good screamers and were also good at reading the screams of their fellow humans. This may help explain the perverse joy we get by intentionally subjecting ourselves to scream-inducing experiences like horror movies and roller coasters.</p>
<p>How better to celebrate the screaming success of our prehistoric ancestors?</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/124148/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Frank T. McAndrew does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The human scream – a response we share with our primate relatives – is more nuanced than you might think.Frank T. McAndrew, Cornelia H. Dudley Professor of Psychology, Knox CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1237822019-09-18T13:12:47Z2019-09-18T13:12:47ZPasha 36: The sounds of our ancestors<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/292948/original/file-20190918-187967-1rev7zy.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Pendants</span> </figcaption></figure><p>Studying the Middle and Later Stone Age, which was about 300 000 to 300 years ago in South Africa, is a vital way to learn about an important period for our ancestors. </p>
<p>We know a fair amount about the tools and the paintings made by people of that time. But very little is known about the sounds that people made and listened to. This lack of knowledge made a group of South African researchers curious about these sounds – and so they set out to learn more. Some of their findings suggest that an instrument known as a woer woer, akin to a bullroarer, was among the key sounds of the time.</p>
<p>In today’s episode of Pasha Sarah Wurz, a professor at the University of the Witwatersrand, and Joshua Kumbani, a PhD student at the same university, discuss these ancient sounds and their purposes.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-our-african-ancestors-made-sound-in-the-stone-age-121142">How our African ancestors made sound in the Stone Age</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><strong>Photo:</strong>
Photo taken of the pendants used in the research. <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/331558496_A_functional_investigation_of_southern_Cape_Later_Stone_Age_artefacts_resembling_aerophones">Academic paper</a></p>
<p><strong>Music</strong>
“Happy African Village” by John Bartmann found on <a href="http://freemusicarchive.org/music/John_Bartmann/Public_Domain_Soundtrack_Music_Album_One/happy-african-village">FreeMusicArchive.org</a> licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/">CC0 1</a>.</p>
<p><strong>Sounds</strong>
The sounds of the replica bullroarer & the woer woer in action.
Source: Neil Rusch, personal archive.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/123782/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
The sounds our ancestors made are important because they teach us about spaces and behaviour and rituals of the time.Ozayr Patel, Digital EditorLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1211422019-08-07T12:13:26Z2019-08-07T12:13:26ZHow our African ancestors made sound in the Stone Age<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/286377/original/file-20190731-186805-1ubi5pf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">One of the Klasies River spinning discs and the replica built for the recording studio.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kumbani et al (2019), Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Middle and Later Stone Age, which lasted from about 300 000 to 300 years ago in South Africa, was <a href="https://link.springer.com/referenceworkentry/10.1007%2F978-1-4419-0465-2_1887">an important time</a> for the African continent. During this period humans developed many different strategies to produce a variety of stone tools. They used fire as an engineering tool and to cook. As expert hunter gatherers, they successfully inhabited many parts of Africa.</p>
<p>But one thing that’s been missing from our understanding of this epoch is sound, noise or music. There’s been very little research on the role of sound production during the Stone Age. That’s very surprising since <a href="https://link.springer.com/referenceworkentry/10.1007%2F978-1-4419-0465-2_1887">we know</a> that the latter part of this period was an important one for the development of complex cognition, symbolic expression and social dynamics among human ancestors. So it stands to reason that groups which were communicating in complex ways might also explore sound for expression.</p>
<p>One reason to account for this lack of research may be that <a href="https://acousticstoday.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Musical-Origins-and-the-Stone-Age-Evolution-of-Flutes.pdf">sound-producing instruments</a> are usually made of organic materials which typically don’t survive well, archaeologically. </p>
<p>We wanted to address this gap in the research. So we’ve established <a href="https://www.wits.ac.za/staff/academic-a-z-listing/w/sarahwurzwitsacza">a working group</a> to map and investigate Stone Age musical activities within Africa, incorporating ethnographic perspectives, knowledge gained from the in-depth study of various cultural groups.</p>
<p>One of our first projects has been <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352409X18307612?via%3Dihub">to examine</a> ancient versions of the strange disc-shaped object that South Africans colloquially know as a “woer woer”. The “woer woer” (“whirr whirr” in Afrikaans) can be wound up between two pieces of string and released to produce the same kind of sound as a howling wind or a swarm of bees. <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1356880?seq=2#metadata_info_tab_contents">Different versions</a> exist in various parts of the world, known by different names.</p>
<p>Working with bone artefacts from archaeological sites in South Africa’s southern Cape region, we’ve been able to show that some implements might have been used for sound production in the past. </p>
<p>This sort of research is important because it can shed light on <a href="https://www.mcdonald.cam.ac.uk/publications/publication-images/table%20of%20contents/archaeoacoustics-toc">human behaviour and the use of space</a>. Some spaces may have been specifically selected for how well sound resonates and amplifies, perhaps to form part of rituals to induce altered states of consciousness or enhanced states of association.</p>
<h2>Bullroarers and woer woers</h2>
<p>The “woer woer” works on the same principle as another instrument, the <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fsoc.2017.00008/full">bullroarer</a>. This has been used for centuries in many societies to produce sound, chiefly during ceremonial occasions. When it’s spun through the air it produces audible vibrations that travel for some distance. </p>
<p>At least <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Middle-Stone-Klasies-River-Africa/dp/0226761037">two</a> <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/prehistory-of-the-matjes-river-rock-shelter/oclc/4681377">examples</a> of woer woers made from perforated pieces of bone have been recovered from archaeological sites along the southern Cape coast, at Klasies River and Matjes River. Both date back between 5000 and 10 000 years.</p>
<p>The Matjes River woer woer was recovered together with perforated bone pendants. Some of these “pendants” bear a striking resemblance to bullroarers from other parts of the world. Bullroarers are used by the Bushmen and Aboriginal people and are <a href="https://www.ancient-origins.net/artifacts-other-artifacts/bullroarer-instrument-whirls-through-cultures-and-time-004928">also found</a> in Late Palaeolithic sites in Denmark, Germany and Norway.</p>
<p>But how could we be sure what the southern Cape artefacts were or what they were used for?</p>
<p>Simple: we headed to a recording studio.</p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="44" data-image="" data-title="The sounds of the replica bullroarer" data-size="2928164" data-source="Kumbani et al (2019), Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports" data-source-url="" data-license="Author provided (no reuse)" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/1700/mp3-mr40-bull-roarer.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
The sounds of the replica bullroarer.
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kumbani et al (2019), Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports</span>, <span class="license">Author provided (no reuse)</span><span class="download"><span>2.79 MB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/1700/mp3-mr40-bull-roarer.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
</div></p>
<p>Using the actual bone artefacts wasn’t possible – they are protected by heritage legislation – so we made modern bone replicas and spun them mechanically for a total of 15 hours. The resulting sounds were recorded in the Field Sound Studio, Cape Town. We also recorded where evidence of wear from use occurred.</p>
<p>The sound frequency of the objects we assumed were woer woers ranged from 52 to 200 Hz. These are bass sounds, resembling those in nature such as bees humming.</p>
<p>The frequency range across the sample of pendant replicas varied from 55.5 to 250 Hz, which is comparable to that produced by <a href="https://online.liverpooluniversitypress.co.uk/doi/abs/10.3828/hgr.2017.11">bullroarers</a>. The replicas produced a sustained pulsing sound that may be likened to the breaking of ocean waves, thunder or breathing. If played in a cave, such as the sites where the original artefacts were found, the aural affect would have been impressively magnified. </p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="81" data-image="" data-title="The woer woer in action in the studio" data-size="3244096" data-source="Kumbani et al (2019), Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports" data-source-url="" data-license="Author provided (no reuse)" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/1701/mp3-krm-woerwoer.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
The woer woer in action in the studio.
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kumbani et al (2019), Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports</span>, <span class="license">Author provided (no reuse)</span><span class="download"><span>3.09 MB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/1701/mp3-krm-woerwoer.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
</div></p>
<p>Armed with these data, we conducted a few more experiments. Our interpretation of these results is that one of the decorative pendants was used to produce sound, in the same manner as a bullroarer. </p>
<p>If this interpretation is correct it means that aerophones were used in the distant past in southern Africa. Aerophones produce sound by creating vibrations in the air when they are spun around their axes. They are known as some of the earliest musical instruments in the archaeological record.</p>
<h2>Buzzing as ritual gateway</h2>
<p>So, why were these ancient bullroarers used? </p>
<p>It’s possible that sound may be associated with burying the dead. The artefacts we tested from both sites were associated with human remains.</p>
<figure>
<iframe src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/352009595" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen="" mozallowfullscreen="" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The combination of sound and light may have helped people enter an altered state of consciousness. Source: Neil Rusch, personal archive.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Matjes River has yielded the remains of 120 individuals. The site was certainly a sacred one within the landscape: it was a burial ground for thousands of years.</p>
<p>There are other possible uses, based on <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/book/60594">ethnographic knowledge</a> from southern Africa. The Ju|‘-hoansi San of Namibia associate the sound of the bullroarer, which they use in male initiation ceremonies, with mythical creators. /Xam Bushmen in the 19th century <a href="https://www.takealot.com/specimens-of-bushman-folklore/PLID46723650?gclid=CjwKCAjwpuXpBRAAEiwAyRRPgSJfcAF_AK_cRGsC7BKKDYCpgUbvSdf3tcBNdxpGLtx-a76cC-JK3BoC-RwQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds">reported</a> how they would use the bullroarer to manipulate bees. </p>
<p>Interestingly, people entering an altered state of consciousness <a href="https://online.liverpooluniversitypress.co.uk/doi/abs/10.3828/hgr.2017.11">report</a> hear a buzzing sound as part of their hallucinatory experience. Bees are also depicted in San rock art. These are believed to be associated with the altered state of consciousness <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2743395?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">shamans</a> induced to enter the spirit world. When a woer woer or bullroarer is spun quickly a stroboscopic effect is produced, which may add to the hallucinatory experience.</p>
<p>This work not only aids our understanding of our ancestors’ behaviour. It also suggests that it may be worth re-examining other bone artefacts whose true function may not yet be known.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/121142/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Working with bone artefacts from archaeological sites in South Africa’s southern Cape region, we’ve been able to show that some implements might have been used for sound production in the past.Sarah Wurz, Professor, University of the WitwatersrandJoshua Kumbani, PhD Student, University of the WitwatersrandJustin Bradfield, Senior lecturer, University of JohannesburgNeil Rusch, Research Associate, University of the WitwatersrandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1091412019-03-19T18:49:28Z2019-03-19T18:49:28ZCurious Kids: what makes an echo?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/259637/original/file-20190219-121747-dbszko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C341%2C1984%2C1143&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Do you think you could make an echo at Echo Point in Katoomba?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/pikerslanefarm/3454549043/in/photolist-6ggt5p-22gu6Vj-2emP6jr-6gkCi3-bDgc7N-bDggtQ-6AN3BA-4p3XXp-236i3Nb-21Q3piT-7r3iAn-6ggrKa-8kwDBq-21E78an-6gkHGJ-qRdn7h-f5HLzP-6ggwXa-bEAXM6-6gkDEd-f3Fxt8-BWnRB-4GGyfS-JRody-6ggtNc-rpnoDw-6ghTNa-7L861g-nz8s7u-gL7CUG-6gkE85-6cXjQ-9nLmRP-gL7w8U-aEK915-nAAzPm-e3W8jw-gL7ugZ-6gn4LU-b7ZkN-JRrc1-47hba3-6AN9J5-gL7sq4-dHQnVG-6j53ge-6ghUft-E4gQEV-dL62tv-98rN5R">Flickr/Amanda Slater</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/curious-kids-36782">Curious Kids</a> is a series for children. If you have a question you’d like an expert to answer, send it to curiouskids@theconversation.edu.au You might also like the podcast <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/kidslisten/imagine-this/">Imagine This</a>, a co-production between ABC KIDS listen and The Conversation, based on Curious Kids.</em> </p>
<hr>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>What makes an echo? - Minnie, age 4.</strong></p>
</blockquote>
<hr>
<p>That’s a tricky question. The simplest way to answer is to say that an echo is a sound that later comes back to where it came from.</p>
<p>Before we get into what makes an echo, we need to have a think about sound. </p>
<h2>What is a sound?</h2>
<p>What we call “sound” is really just the air in our ears moving back and forth. </p>
<p>The air can move fast or slow. We can hear air moving back and forth between 20 and 20,000 times per second. That’s really, really fast! (For the grownups reading right now, human hearing is from about 20 - 20,000 Hertz, which means repetitions per second).</p>
<p>But did you know that there are faster and slower air movements that can be heard by other animals, but not people? </p>
<h2>Where does sound come from?</h2>
<p>If we hear the air moving in our ears, where did that moving air come from?</p>
<p>A sound can come from anything that vibrates or moves back and forth.</p>
<p>It could start with the moving string of a guitar or the vocal folds in your <a href="https://youtu.be/skzyx1jpod4">voice box</a> that move when you speak or sing. </p>
<p>Once the air starts to move, it travels in all directions until it finds something to stop it. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/curious-kids-why-are-we-ticklish-92419">Curious Kids: Why are we ticklish?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Bounce back!</h2>
<p>When sound travelling in air (we call this a sound wave) hits a hard flat surface, like a tiled bathroom wall, most of it bounces back. Maybe this is why people like to sing in the shower. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=227&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=227&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=227&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=286&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=286&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/258967/original/file-20190214-1751-1yb4umo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=286&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">This is a drawing of how sound bounces back.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-vector/sonar-infographic-vector-743998678?src=2wi1h7pOWoCP49MI9FZF4w-1-71">gritsalak karalak/shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But to get a really good echo, that sounds the same as the original sound, we need a very big bathroom, or another very big, hard-walled place – like a valley or a canyon!</p>
<p>Here’s a video of a man playing trumpet in a canyon. The vibration of his lips makes the sound, which bounces back from the hard wall of rock on the other side of the valley:</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HTZi1MzHSac?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>For a sound to bounce back and make an echo, there has to be a lot of space between the sound source and the thing (wall or mountain) that it hits and bounces back. </p>
<p>Why? Because it takes time for the sound to come back as an echo. If there’s no big space, it won’t sound like an echo because the sound that comes back will get mixed up with the original sound.</p>
<p>Noticing changes in the sound can still be useful. Some animals like bats and dolphins, and even some children, can use this to tell where they are. This is called “echolocation”.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zXtExOMCDfE?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Here’s a BBC video about a child named Sam who uses echolocation to get around.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>So if you don’t have a very large bathroom, you may want to try a bushwalk in a valley, or perhaps an underground carpark to find your echos. </p>
<p>If you know of any good echo spots, leave a comment below. I can start you off by telling you that there is a place called Echo Point at Katoomba in NSW.</p>
<h2>Did you know?</h2>
<p>The name <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Echo_(mythology)">“echo” comes from a Greek legend</a>. In that story, a kind of mountain fairy named Echo was cursed by the god Zeus’ wife Hera so that she could only repeat what was said to her.</p>
<p>Some people believe that when a duck quacks, it does not echo but <a href="http://www.acoustics.salford.ac.uk/acoustics_info/duck/?content=index">some scientists in the UK</a> did an experiment and said that was not true.</p>
<p>Many scientists like to study sounds without echoes. For this, they design special rooms called “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anechoic_chamber">anechoic chambers</a>”, that stop sound from bouncing back. The <a href="http://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/music/">Acoustics Lab at the University of New South Wales</a> even has an anechoic pipe. It is so long that any sound that goes in doesn’t come back out.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/curious-kids-who-made-the-alphabet-song-77297">Curious Kids: Who made the alphabet song?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<hr>
<p><em>Hello, curious kids! Have you got a question you’d like an expert to answer? Ask an adult to send your question to curiouskids@theconversation.edu.au</em></p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/168011/original/file-20170505-21620-huq4lj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/168011/original/file-20170505-21620-huq4lj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168011/original/file-20170505-21620-huq4lj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168011/original/file-20170505-21620-huq4lj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168011/original/file-20170505-21620-huq4lj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=472&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168011/original/file-20170505-21620-huq4lj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=472&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168011/original/file-20170505-21620-huq4lj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=472&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><em>Please tell us your name, age and which city you live in. We won’t be able to answer every question but we will do our best.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/109141/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Noel Hanna is a member of the Australian Acoustical Society, Acoustical Society of America, Australian Institute of Physics and the Teachers' Guild of New South Wales.
He holds the role of Leading Education Professional (Physics) with UNSW Global, a wholly owned subsidiary of UNSW Sydney. </span></em></p>When a sound is made, it spreads. And when it hits a hard surface that is far away, it bounces back and comes back to where the sound was made. That’s what we call an echo.Noël Hanna, Leading Education Professional (Physics), UNSW Global, UNSW SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/765072017-05-21T21:39:35Z2017-05-21T21:39:35ZLet cities speak: what sounds define us now?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167105/original/file-20170428-15121-xxzqu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The village bell was once a powerful symbol of sonic identity. Living in the noise of today's global cities, what sounds exist that express our communal identity?</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Eric Fidler/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This is the first of two “Let Cities Speak” articles. While Western city soundscapes are increasingly homogeneous, these articles seek to explore the sounds that still define us and the ways in which we might discover new sonic identities for our cities.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>When village bells tolled in pre-industrial landscapes, the sound was laden with meaning. Religious representation, the passing of the days, and imminent warnings and dangers were all attached to its perception. Their historical meaning to communities has been thoroughly researched. </p>
<p>Alain Corbin’s <a href="https://cup.columbia.edu/book/village-bells/9780231104500">book</a>, Village Bells: Sound and Meaning in the 19th-century French Countryside, explores the central role these sounds played in everyday life, both in theistic and secular society. </p>
<p>The World Soundscape Project, led by Murray Schafer, investigated the acoustic horizons formed by bell sounds in their <a href="https://www.sfu.ca/%7Etruax/FVS/fvs.html">Five Village Soundscapes research</a>, and how these sonic boundaries related to community identity. </p>
<h2>The fading village bell</h2>
<p>If you have ever visited those remaining ancient villages of Europe where the noises of contemporary society remain absent, you can hear not just the initial strike of a bell but its lingering resonance rolling through the streets. It marks a time to stop and listen as the sound stretches out, before receding into inaudibility. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167101/original/file-20170428-15112-izunam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Église Saint-Julien. Some sources indicate that the church bell (cloche) dates from 1691.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">jan buchholtz/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Now, when we hear church bells toll, the resonant tail is lost; only the initial strike of the bell can be heard. Its initial power is enough to compete with contemporary clamours, but along with its religious and quotidian meanings, the lingering resonances of the bell are swallowed by the insistent voice of progress – the ever-present call of our cities. </p>
<p>It is easy to romanticise the sound of bells, regardless of their beatific qualities. One of a series of art interventions by Bruce Odland and Sam Auinger, titled <a href="http://www.triennalebrugge2015.be/src/Frontend/Files/userfiles/files/O%2BA_Press%20Release">Sounding Bruges</a> created for the 2015 Brugge Triennale, wrote a series of compositions for the carillon bells of a medieval belfry to create new compositions and rhythmic patterns. It brought to our attention the typically unwavering repetition of bell compositions. </p>
<p>This intervention acts as a reminder that the repetitive sound of village bells can be understood as the sound of control, as expressed by the religious and political authorities of the day. </p>
<p>As much as we might lament the homogenising impact of noise on our city environments – caused primarily by vehicles and air conditioning – we might also reflect on them as sonic expressions of industrial processes and technological evolution. </p>
<p>These are the sounds that have forever changed our lives, for better or worse, replacing the age of the village bell.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ppyxLFh4OFA?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">For the villagers of Helmsdale in Sutherland, Scotland, the chiming of the clock tower is still part of their lives.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Searching for our sonic identity</h2>
<p>However, regardless of religious and political intent, the village bell was a powerful symbol of sonic identity. </p>
<p>In an era when global cities are defined by unerring technological drones and interruptions (i.e. sirens and hand-held devices), what <a href="https://www.sfu.ca/sonic-studio/handbook/Soundmark.html">soundmarks</a> express our communal identity today? </p>
<hr>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-66" class="tc-infographic" height="400px" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/66/7c41be27ab9817a76a894eaf1ce0e2148c045783/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<hr>
<p>In a <a href="https://theconversation.com/we-need-a-new-relationship-with-urban-noise-46207">previous article</a> for The Conversation, I wrote that we are in danger of becoming the “passive and defeated receptors” of our city noise. Like the ancient bells, our subtleties and particularities are at risk of being subsumed by the swamp of noise, providing no significant moment to which we can attach our identities.</p>
<p>Even the famed gun salute of Anzac Day, a soundmark in which many Australians might find identity, <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/anzac-day-2017-damp-commemoration-for-diggers-fallen-and-living-20170425-gvrvpz.html">has been silenced</a>. </p>
<p>The factory workers of the 20th century, and their surrounding communities, were connected by way of the <a href="https://www.sfu.ca/sonic-studio/handbook/Sound_Signal.html">now-extinct siren</a> that called for lunch or the end of the day. The bell of the local school is a soundmark that may linger in some places, reminding the community that the sounds of children are about to fill the air (if indeed any walk home – now, it most likely follows the sounds of multiple people-carriers arriving for pick-up). </p>
<p>It is worth noting the strange dichotomy in cities like Melbourne, where the clamour of busy centres is countered by the enduring silence of the suburbs. </p>
<p>In my own suburb of Glen Huntly the night silence is relentless. I’d prefer to hear the cicadas, frogs and birds of nature – the presence of life – than the total absence of life that so often marks our suburban existence. </p>
<p>Indeed, to call nature “silent” is a fallacy. In comparison to suburbia its soundscapes are eventful and vibrant. Yet this fallacy <a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2015/10/151006-nature-sounds-science-animals-music/">is fast becoming fact</a> as a great silence falls across nature, concomitant with the rise of the global city.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167100/original/file-20170428-15117-1qorqlf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167100/original/file-20170428-15117-1qorqlf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167100/original/file-20170428-15117-1qorqlf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167100/original/file-20170428-15117-1qorqlf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167100/original/file-20170428-15117-1qorqlf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=526&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167100/original/file-20170428-15117-1qorqlf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=526&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167100/original/file-20170428-15117-1qorqlf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=526&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The sounds of Melbourne’s trams have provided the city with a certain ‘distinctness’ for many years now.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">VirtualWolf/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Another victim of homogenisation</h2>
<p>There is one familiar sound in my suburb, like much of Melbourne, that can still reach our ears: the lonely screech of the late-night 67 tram turning corners. I picture those workers and late-night partiers returning home, as I’m curled up in bed, its driver glaring into an illuminated distance.</p>
<p><a href="https://soundslikenoise.org/2011/10/10/trams-in-melbourne-a-soundmark/">This soundmark</a> is made all the more meaningful because there is a history in each screech – every night, for as many years as those steel parts of wheel and track have connected. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/U98z1_2kBG4?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The sounds of a tram travelling through the city are familiar to almost every Melburnian.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>However, the bells of trams, like the horns of trains, have fallen victim to homogenisation. Little character to be found here, unfortunately.</p>
<p>But what about now, as community-defining sounds increasingly disappear into the noise? Could we find this to be an opportunity, rather than a lament? Do we have the opportunity to discover new sonic identities? How can communities work towards soundscapes that produce meaning? </p>
<p>I will discuss some research approaches exploring these questions in a second article.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>You can read the second “Let Cities Speak” article <a href="https://theconversation.com/let-cities-speak-reclaiming-a-place-for-community-with-sounds-76998">here</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/76507/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jordan Lacey has received funding from RMIT University, The City of Melbourne, The City of Casey and the Transurban Innovation Grant.</span></em></p>Sound, as a still relatively unexplored medium of urban design, provides an obvious starting point in the search for new relationships and identities in the contemporary city.Jordan Lacey, Research Fellow, Architecture & Design, RMIT UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/769982017-05-21T20:10:57Z2017-05-21T20:10:57ZLet cities speak: reclaiming a place for community with sounds<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167447/original/file-20170502-26332-4f7oon.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Noise transformation and community-led design projects are reclaiming unwanted spaces that lay adjacent to motorways.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">rogiro/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This is the second of two “Let Cities Speak” articles. While Western city soundscapes are increasingly homogeneous, these articles seek to explore the sounds that still define us and the ways in which we might discover new sonic identities for our cities.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>Noise is everywhere. We live with it, inside and outside our homes. It defines contemporary urban life, the world over. Its companion, silence, also holds its own: from the stretches of suburbia to the degraded spaces of nature, a seeming absence of life is apparent. </p>
<p>The first “Let Cities Speak” article finished by asking: how do communities discover sonic identities within these contemporary soundscapes? This article points to research projects that seek answers to this question.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/167299/original/file-20170501-12979-13est04.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Speakers run along the sides of the William Barak Bridge.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jason Ilagan/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I have argued <a href="http://www.bloomsbury.com/au/sonic-rupture-9781501309977/">elsewhere</a> that sound installations can act to “rupture” noisy soundscapes, producing zones of experiential diversity. There are many <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/organised-sound/article/sonic-placemaking-three-approaches-and-ten-attributes-for-the-creation-of-enduring-urban-sound-art-installations/9980C795AD85D907E7BCB1B59B413F59">international examples</a> that attempt to achieve this. The artist locates intensive listening encounters within the city, bringing our attention to new sensory experiences.</p>
<p>An excellent local example, in Melbourne, is Sonia Leber and David Chesworth’s <a href="http://leberandchesworth.com/public-spaces/proximities/">Proximites</a> at William Barak Bridge. This is a permanently fixed sound installation that provides experiential diversity for those willing to seek it. Voices of the Commonwealth countries dance around the listener as they look upon the city. The recording below provides a sample of these sounds.</p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="66" data-image="" data-title="Sonia Leber and David Chesworth's work at William Barak Bridge" data-size="1588002" data-source="Author provided" data-source-url="" data-license="Author provided" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/719/proximities-stereo-denoise-01.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
Sonia Leber and David Chesworth’s work at William Barak Bridge.
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span><span class="download"><span>1.51 MB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/719/proximities-stereo-denoise-01.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
</div></p>
<p>Robin Fox created a temporary installation in Northbank, Melbourne, titled <a href="http://robinfox.com.au/projects/giant-theremin/">Giant Theremin</a>. This interactive sculpture produces electronic sounds that entice a range of playful responses from visitors, including dance, laughter and even BMX stunts.</p>
<p>But, increasingly, such artistic interventions, while important and valuable, serve only to provide the “possibility” of new listening experiences. Whether such spaces should become places of significant sonic identity is an entirely different question, and one that is presumably beyond the artist’s control. </p>
<h2>Increasing appetite for “placemaking” sounds</h2>
<p>My research is turning toward community-led design in which a more meaningful essence of “placemaking” might be found. </p>
<p>After all, how can we expect to develop sonic identities if members of the community are not involved in their very discovery? </p>
<p>I am involved in two research projects that are exploring this proposition. One reshapes motorway noise into meaningful listening experiences. The other searches for a soundmark in the silence of suburbia.</p>
<h2>Transforming motorway noise</h2>
<p>Research funded by the <a href="https://www.transurban.com/sustainability/innovation-grants">Transurban Innovation Grant</a> is working with communities living with motorway noise to discover <a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/business/companies/transurban-rmit-university-team-up-to-tackle-road-noise/news-story/4cfaa7f53bd70fae7c064ce663aa5f07">“noise transformation”</a> approaches that help to produce more liveable conditions. </p>
<p>Where the constant drone of passing traffic is inescapable, noise transformation combined with urban design aims to reclaim those unused green spaces that border these busy roads. </p>
<p>The research is in its early stages, but what we have found to date is that the community members who have experienced our prototype point very strongly to those transformed soundscapes that – in their words – reduce anxiety, and provide interesting listening experiences that warrant ongoing visits.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169481/original/file-20170516-11963-6z9vd8.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Where noisy traffic is inescapably close (above), noise transformation work (below) combined with urban design can reclaim green spaces for public use.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jack Connor</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=359&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=359&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=359&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/169483/original/file-20170516-11945-77rymf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The researchers were surprised by the community’s enthusiasm for the transformation sites. There was certainly no expectation of a positive response to what might have been seen as a band-aid solution to an ongoing urban problem. Instead, what we witnessed was a genuine curiosity and fascination with an act of futuristic placemaking that could one day be part of everyday life.</p>
<h2>Creating a suburban soundmark</h2>
<p>In Melbourne’s southeast, research funded by the City of Casey is working to integrate an interactive artwork into a community centre plaza at Clyde North. The artwork plays back local field recordings that were identified by the local community via a Facebook page. The question was posted: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>What sounds define your suburb?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Not withstanding a few droll, though humorous, responses (“the voices in my head”, “the sounds of hoons doing burn-outs at 2am”), we were encouraged by the range of positive responses. These suggested strong civic pride – especially those that pointed towards the sounds and smells of multiculturalism and social life in general. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=360&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=360&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=360&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/168493/original/file-20170509-20732-1t3sj8f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A render of the forthcoming integrated artwork for the Clyde North community centre commissioned by the City of Casey. Research team: Jordan Lacey, Ross McLeod, Charles Anderson, Chuan Khoo, Eliot Palmer, Camilla Hannan, Nat Grant.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The work’s behaviour is dependent on how locals choose to interact with the central “sensing” stone. The sensing stone is sculpted bluestone with four aluminium strip inlays. The aluminium strips detect human presence through the electrical charge latent in our bodies, which is sent as data to a memory system that responds with audio, lighting and vibration. </p>
<p>The more interaction, the more lively will be the <a href="https://www.sfu.ca/sonic-studio/handbook/Soundmark.html">soundmark</a>, which it generates at dawn and dusk. </p>
<p>Those who read the first “Let Cities Speak” article might note a relationship with the temporal consistency of the village bell. The artwork’s soundmark emerges twice a day, imbuing it with a quotidian character. </p>
<p>But in this case, the sounds played have been identified by the Clyde North community, and shaped by them. Given that the soundmark’s behaviour is based on community interaction during the day, the work acts as a type of social barometer reflecting back to the community their relationship with the artwork. </p>
<p>The following recording is of our working prototype, yet to be installed. The low hum is a vibrating steel plate, which responds to human interaction. The other sounds are field recordings of the Casey suburb, as identified by the community: a youth park and a local wetland.</p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="60" data-image="" data-title="Casey soundmark prototype" data-size="1445831" data-source="Author provided" data-source-url="" data-license="Author provided" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/718/casey-soundmark-rec-01.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
Casey soundmark prototype.
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span><span class="download"><span>1.38 MB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/718/casey-soundmark-rec-01.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
</div></p>
<h2>It’s time to start listening</h2>
<p>While these research projects are funded by two very different sources – private industry and local council – what they both expose is an appetite within local communities to be informed and included in art, design and infrastructure projects that affect community life. </p>
<p>Rather than solutions being imposed “from the top” – by industry, governments or even public art programs – today’s challenge is to learn from the community. Because it is here that identity is to be found.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>You can read the first “Let Cities Speak” article <a href="https://theconversation.com/let-cities-speak-what-sounds-define-us-now-76507">here</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/76998/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jordan Lacey has received funding from RMIT University, The City of Melbourne, The City of Casey and the Transurban Innovation Grant.</span></em></p>Communities have an increasing desire to be informed and included in local art, design and infrastructure projects. This has inspired new ways of dealing with noise-afflicted areas.Jordan Lacey, Research Fellow, Architecture & Design, RMIT UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/726442017-03-07T19:24:04Z2017-03-07T19:24:04ZContested spaces: you can’t stop the music – the sounds that divide shoppers<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/159061/original/image-20170302-5504-12rga5c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">When they hear the music, some people want to dance. Other shoppers want to flee.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/jmarty/2116501096/in/photolist-4e2C3d-pqc27e-sryATK-8oZnm3-FRQfnv-74r7Ld-9EFWRq-d5Cpi9-7bDupA-oJhDHH-nDCvey-jV3CQH-gz1iag-9Cmud2-c8wCWb-cdTQoq-a473KK-8vyHpC-csFj5j-gezE1D-qw6V5m-by8nJ9-92hS7f-djfa46-bjKzNz-ecajo4-fc3Rxp-qmQcz8-cNwztA-8CMwZ3-2F8zHA-h6j3hC-cR6Vtj-8Vazh4-gCo6Jk-cNgZaL-cNwD35-edatti-fU3uGz-ni6bYb-fTZUJr-92eKik-fxYVmv-fnk9qx-pUGRo7-a9JBEM-gDKEPu-cXwics-4V54ua-6ovXhu">Justin/flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This is the third article in our <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/contested-spaces-36316">Contested Spaces</a> series. These pieces look at the conflicting uses, expectations and norms that people bring to public spaces, the clashes that result and how we can resolve these.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>Sound is everywhere. In urban areas, it forms part of how we feel about and negotiate various social settings. </p>
<p>The space we focus on here is the retail environment. Based on interviews with shoppers about the kinds of music and sounds encountered, we are examining how and why the acoustic dimension can either heighten or diminish the shopping experience.</p>
<p>When successful, music in retail spaces stimulates positive corporeal and other sensory responses in shoppers. The other side of the coin is that a majority of interview participants reported unpleasant musical experiences in retail situations. </p>
<p>Interviewees who liked to hear music when shopping reported that it added a sense of rhythm to what they were doing. It made the experience feel more dynamic or lively than otherwise might have been the case. </p>
<p>Some shoppers reported being so energised by the music that they worried they might engage in conspicuous behaviour such as dancing, singing and other conduct not usually found in retail settings. One participant said she was so responsive and captive to music in the shops that she feared being considered a “public weirdo” by retail staff and other shoppers.</p>
<p>Those who had negative responses to music included consumers who sensed that the music played in certain stores was “discriminatory”. This was because it seemed aimed at particular gender or age groups that excluded them.</p>
<p>Volume was another important source of disquiet. The greater the volume, the greater the imposition these shoppers felt. </p>
<p>Some shoppers avoided altogether “noisy” or “loud” retail spaces. Others reported getting through the shopping experience faster than they would have liked. And some resorted to the “privatisation” of their aural experience by using personal musical devices.</p>
<h2>In what ways does music offend?</h2>
<p>But why should music and sound be contentious in retail settings? There is a long history of people using music and sound to augment the experiences of events like festivals, community and religious celebrations, as well as markets and fairs.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/159059/original/image-20170302-5538-1ngmm75.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Some shoppers may feel music is part of a retail strategy to manipulate them into buying more.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://pixabay.com/en/speakers-announcement-213232/">pixabay</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One possibility is that consumers are concerned that retail atmospheres are designed to manipulate them into buying things <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0013916503254749">through music</a> and other forms of sensory conditioning, such as lighting, smell, temperature and colour schemes. However, this doesn’t really explain why some consumers reported feeling dislocated or not “at home” in retail environments. </p>
<p>Music and sound can often offend shoppers for other reasons, we suggest. Following the insights of microsociologist <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books/about/The_Presentation_of_Self_in_Everyday_Lif.html?id=Sdt-cDkV8pQC">Erving Goffman</a>, we think the acoustic environment of retail shopping is a complex “<a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/2095141?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">interaction order</a>”, which is more fragile than we realise. </p>
<p>We contend that music and sound can impinge upon what Goffman termed the “<a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=ApSW54vTsYwC&pg=PA28&source=gbs_selected_pages&cad=3#v=onepage&q&f=false">territories of the self</a>”. This refers to the physical and mental space that the individual expects others will provide to them. Thus, music that is perceived as “noisy”, “loud” or “annoying” – as reported by the interview subjects – threatens the boundaries that the individual seeks to protect, and expects others will observe.</p>
<p>Unlike vision or touch, sound is much more difficult to control or protect oneself one from; sound spills across thresholds and enters into situations where it is unwelcome. </p>
<p>Equally, when interview subjects reported annoyance at retail environments starting to resemble nightclubs or pubs, they were highlighting concerns about what Goffman called “<a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/9780470674871.wbespm092/abstract">frame disputes</a>”. Music can counteract “situationally appropriate” framing, if the shopper comes to feel that the acoustic environment is not providing the right scripts, cues or definition of the situation.</p>
<h2>Can and should retailers stop the music?</h2>
<p>So how might retailers respond to the kind of “territorial offences” that some of our interview subjects identified? </p>
<p>Some have reacted to the frictions generated by sound, and other types of sensory overload, by introducing “quiet hour shopping”. As one Adelaide <a href="http://www.glamadelaide.com.au/main/silence-frewville-foodland-to-host-quiet-hour-shopping-this-tuesday/">lifestyle website</a> reported, at Frewville Foodland:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The lights will be dimmed, music and pager messages switched off, volume of the ‘beeps’ on the check-outs lowered, there will be no coffee grinding and strong smells will be reduced where possible. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>We applaud attempts to creatively redesign the shopping experience and to provide consumers with sensorially enriched retail environments. However, we would caution against simplistic understandings of the impacts of sound on the retail experience; nor do we condone seeing music and sound as something that should be avoided. </p>
<p>It is true that humans possess a limited capacity to process auditory information. At worst, this leaves scope for exploitation in the form of <a href="https://www.thenation.com/article/disco-inferno/">sonic torture</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-the-sound-of-fear-65230">sonic weaponry</a>. But it is also true, as our respondents reported, that music and sound can enrich experiences by enhancing the mood, tempo and liveliness associated with certain activities. </p>
<p>The last thing we want is for all retail spaces to sound the same. As experimental composer and Zen Buddhism practitioner <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=1ECundMF9xAC&printsec=frontcover&dq=Silence+JOhn+cage&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj-4pXpyrbSAhWMXbwKHbYtC0sQ6AEIJTAC#v=onepage&q=make%20a%20silence&f=false">John Cage noted</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>There is no such thing as an empty space or an empty time. There is always something to see, something to hear. In fact, try as we may to make a silence, we cannot.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>We tend to be annoyed because, when we bump into them in the supermarket aisle, sounds don’t say “excuse me”. However, if Cage is right and there is no such thing as a silent retail space, we might as well as learn to share supermarket aisles with sounds beyond our control and sounds not on our playlists.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>You can read other pieces in the series as they are published <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/contested-spaces-36316">here</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/72644/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Unlike vision or touch, sound is much more difficult to control or avoid; music in particular spills across thresholds and intrudes into situations where it is unwelcome.Michael James Walsh, Assistant Professor of Social Science, University of CanberraEduardo de la Fuente, Senior Lecturer in Creativity and Innovation, James Cook UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/692522016-11-23T11:41:42Z2016-11-23T11:41:42ZWhat does empty space sound like? We need your help to find out<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147167/original/image-20161123-19717-1cit6ek.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Hush.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">NASA</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>We know that there is <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-does-the-solar-system-sound-like-63014">sound on planets and moons</a> in the solar system – places where there’s a medium through which sound waves can be transmitted, such as an atmosphere or an ocean. But what about empty space? You may have been told definitively that space is silent, maybe by your teacher or through the marketing of the movie Alien – “In space no one can hear you scream”. The common explanation for this is that space is a vacuum and so there’s no medium for sound to travel through.</p>
<p>But that isn’t exactly right. Space is never completely empty – there are a few particles and sound waves floating around. In fact, sound waves in the space around the Earth are very important to our continued technological existence. They also they sound pretty weird!</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZI_iGrcyQ-k?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Space sounds.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Fundamentally, sound waves are <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/education/guides/z8d2mp3/revision">oscillations in pressure</a> which travel through the medium that they’re in. In most cases, this is a series of compressions, where molecules are closer together, and rarefactions, where they are further apart – caused by the molecules themselves moving backwards and forwards. Here on the ground there is quite a lot of air around – each square centimetre of it contains 300,000,000,000,000,000,000 molecules. In contrast, in interplanetary space on average you’ll find just five protons (which make up the atomic nucleus with neutrons) in the same volume – almost completely empty in comparison … but not quite.</p>
<p>Notice how I say protons, because space (like 99.9% of the entire universe) isn’t filled with gas but with plasma: <a href="https://theconversation.com/nasa-flies-satellites-through-explosion-in-space-and-starts-to-unravel-mystery-of-magnetism-59290">a different state of matter</a> made of charged particles. These charged particles mean that plasma can have some different properties, for instance they can generate and be affected by electric and magnetic fields. These kinds of interactions can give rise to the plasma-equivalent of sound waves: magnetosonic waves. These too are pressure waves, but with some added magnetism.</p>
<p>We can’t hear these magnetosonic waves in space. That is because the pressure variations are so small at -100dB sound pressure level (the human hearing threshold is about +60dB). In fact, you’d need an eardrum comparable to the size of the Earth to hear them. Their ultra-low frequencies are also way below what we would be able to hear. So if we can’t hear them, why do we care about them?</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147171/original/image-20161123-19685-12z82ti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147171/original/image-20161123-19685-12z82ti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147171/original/image-20161123-19685-12z82ti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147171/original/image-20161123-19685-12z82ti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147171/original/image-20161123-19685-12z82ti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147171/original/image-20161123-19685-12z82ti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147171/original/image-20161123-19685-12z82ti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Some of NASA’s satellites around Earth.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">NASA/JPL-Caltech</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Well, in Earth’s “magnetosphere” – the protective magnetic bubble we live in that largely protects us from various <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-much-radiation-damage-do-astronauts-really-suffer-in-space-60475">dangerous forms of space radiation</a> – these magnetosonic waves can transfer energy around. For example, they can give it to the radiation belts, donuts of radiation surrounding the Earth, creating “killer electrons” at extreme energies that can damage our satellites if we’re not careful. This is why I study these waves – if we can predict when, where and why these waves occur in the space around the Earth, then we could forecast when our satellites might be in trouble and put them into a safe mode.</p>
<h2>Recording the inaudible</h2>
<p>One of the ways we listen out for these sounds is using geostationary satellites which primarily monitor the weather. As well as all those instruments that can tell you whether to pack an umbrella, they have “magnetic microphones” which can detect these waves. The problem for scientists is separating out all the different types of sound that are present in space. Fortunately, it turns out the human auditory system is pretty good at this sort of thing, some have even called it the best pattern recognition software that we know of. For this very reason, I’m asking for you to lend me your ears.</p>
<p>By amplifying these space sounds and squashing them in time so a whole year becomes just six minutes, they can be made audible. The audio has been <a href="http://www.martinarcher.co.uk/ssfx">uploaded to Soundcloud</a> where you can provide comments on what you think various bits of it sound like. There is so much going on in these sounds, but crowdsourcing comments on them will help identify different types of wave events and ultimately help with the scientific research. So have a listen to some pretty odd sounds from space, because only you can tell me what you hear.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/69252/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Martin Archer does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Listen to some weird space sounds and help identify crunches, whistles and other odd effects. It could help save our satellites.Martin Archer, Space Plasma Physicist, Queen Mary University of LondonLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/652302016-10-06T19:10:12Z2016-10-06T19:10:12ZFriday essay: the sound of fear<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140651/original/image-20161006-20139-1pqp7mi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Sonic weapons usually leave no physical marks but can be devastating psychologically.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Vikash Kumar/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Common idioms such as “seeing is believing” give our eyes the central role in our engagement with the world. But there is little doubt that listening plays a critical part in how we navigate and understand our environment. </p>
<p>Historically, our ears, not eyes, revealed what lay beyond the light of the campfire. And importantly, our ears helped us recognise what lay behind us, out of sight. Sound has the profound ability to haunt, shock and terrify. It has a primordial quality that reaches deep inside us.</p>
<p>Recently, for instance, in preparation for Riverfire, an annual fireworks display in Brisbane, a pair of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jVPi3Baz8k4">FA-18 Super Hornets</a> throttled directly over my house. My two-year-old son was in the yard and, as I stepped outside to look at the planes, I saw him hurtling up our driveway, tears streaming down his cheeks.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140690/original/image-20161006-14716-oq8a2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An FA-18 Super Hornet.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Australian Defence/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>He couldn’t see the planes as they had passed overhead before their sound hit us. But their unnatural volume and the coarse noise of their engines triggered a palpable and overpowering sense of unease and distress. </p>
<p>Sounds heard without a visible source are known as acousmatic. To cope with them, we have created various narratives and myths. In Japanese mythology, the Yanari, a word that references the sound of a house in earthquakes, is said to be a spirit responsible for the groaning and creaking of the house at night. In Norse mythology, thunder was ascribed to the god Thor. </p>
<p>Given its profound emotional impact, it’s not surprising that sound has also been used as a device for exerting power and control. In recent years, the use of sound (<a href="http://www.medicaldaily.com/torture-methods-sound-how-pure-noise-can-be-used-break-you-psychologically-318638">and music</a>) as a weapon has increased, as have our abilities to better exploit its potential. </p>
<p>From Long Range Acoustic Devices used to disperse protesting crowds to military drones that induce a wave of fear in those unlucky enough to be under them to songs blasted on rotation at Guantanamo Bay, we are entering an age where sound is being repositioned as a tool of terror.</p>
<h2>How sound affects us</h2>
<p>Sonic affect, in psychological terms, is created through aesthetic qualities: the timbre of the sound and how we receive it through our mesh of social and cultural understandings. The volume, duration and actual material content of a sound all play a part in how it affects us. </p>
<p>Broadly speaking, most of us hear audible frequencies between 20Hz (very low sounds) and 20000 Hz (very high sounds). However in certain circumstances, sound that exists above and below our hearing range can also be experienced.</p>
<p>When considering the physiological impact of sound, the two critical aspects are frequency and volume. The sound we feel in our bodies is usually a low frequency sound. And <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tX6nHUrL1Xs">Infrasound</a> is of such low frequency it cannot be heard with human ears. Yet it still causes an unconscious physiological anxiety.</p>
<p>It’s this dual recognition, of the ears and the body, the psychological and the physiological, that’s vital to the use of sound as a weapon.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=701&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=701&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=701&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=881&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=881&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140642/original/image-20161006-20145-txyb7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=881&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Conquest of Jericho by Jean Fouquet (circa 1415-1420).</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Battle Of Jericho, described in The Bible, is an apt place to begin an examination of how sound came to be utilised as a weapon. Loosely, the story goes that Joshua’s Israelite army was able to break down the walls of Jericho using trumpets. Though there is no historical basis to this story, it recognises the physiological and the psychological implications of sound in warfare.</p>
<p>Sound <em>can</em> be used at high volume to create powerful effects on objects. It’s unlikely, of course, that brass instruments could crush a city’s walls without serious mechanical and engineering assistance. But the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOhxr643YuA">shock wave from a trombone</a> is nothing short of a micro-sized explosion. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TOhxr643YuA?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>The Battle of Jericho also reminds us how sound can fatigue us. Like <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2010/OPINION/10/10/treasure.sound/">noise pollution today</a>, sonic fatigue leads to a psychological debilitation. Perhaps the Israelite army was able to wear its enemy down through prolonged high volume sound projection, inducing sleep deprivation and fatigue-induced panic. Moreover, the constant blasting of the horns would act as a constant reminder that at any point, the armies might attack. The audible threat in and of itself becomes a device of terror.</p>
<p>One of the most frightening recently discovered weapons of sound is <a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2008/jul/06/news/adfg-sounds6">the Aztec Death Whistle</a>, a pottery vessel, often shaped like a skull, that was used by Mexico’s pre-Columbian tribes. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/I9QuO09z-SI?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Blowing into it makes a sound that has been described as “1,000 corpses screaming”. Used en masse, an army marching with death whistles would surely have been terrifying.</p>
<h2>20th Century Terror</h2>
<p>One of the most iconic representations of sound as a means of creating fear was developed during the Second World War. Germany’s Stuka Ju-87, a dive-bomber fitted with a 70 cm siren dubbed the “Jericho Trumpet”, was a sophisticated terror device. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nZZ504TGDpE?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Its success influenced the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1qsBGTkVSk">V1 Flying Bomb</a>, known as the Buzzbomb due to the acoustic design of its engine. While its blast capacity was modest, its power as a sonic threat demonstrated the growing recognition of psychological terror as a destructive tool of war. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Q1qsBGTkVSk?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Following World War Two, the development of supersonic flight heralded unprecedented exploration of aerial sonic phenomena, including the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7XIVeTUZoKs*-+">Sonic Boom</a>. A sonic boom is the sound made when a plane exceeds the speed of sound, 1236kph in dry air at 20 °C. During 1964, Oklahoma City became a US Government testing ground for sonic booms. A wealth of information was produced, including an assessment of its rather pointed psychological impact on the city’s citizens. Two decades on, the US government was using <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1984/11/12/world/sonic-booms-shake-cities-in-nicaragua-for-the-fourth-day.html">sonic booms against Nicaragua</a> as part of a campaign to destabilise the Sandinista government of the day. </p>
<p>During the Vietnam conflict, meanwhile, US troops played a soundtrack known as <a href="http://pcf45.com/sealords/cuadai/wanderingsoul.html">Ghost Tape Number 10</a> against the soldiers of the National Liberation Front. As part of <a href="http://www.hbmpodcast.com/podcast/hbm055-ghost-tape-number-ten">Operation Wandering Soul</a>, American forces played an unsettling tape collage that tapped into Vietnamese beliefs that ancestors not buried in their homeland roam without rest in the afterlife. This spooky mix of voice, sound and music was intended to haunt Vietnamese soldiers and encourage them to abandon their cause.</p>
<h2>The Sound Of Fear In The 21st Century</h2>
<p>In the past decade, <a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/us-david-rohde-drone-wars-idUSTRE80P11I20120126">the increased military use of Unmanned Ariel Vehicles</a>, colloquially known as drones, has led to new forms of sonic terror. The word drone refers to both a worker bee and the sound that it makes. Like the bee, drones have distinct sonic characters, depending on their design. </p>
<p>These sonic characteristics have been shown to produce, for those living under them, <a href="http://dronecenter.bard.edu/whats-that-sound/">degrees of annoyance, anxiety and fear</a>. Civilian descriptions of drone activities in the report <a href="http://chrgj.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/Living-Under-Drones.pdf">Living Under Drones</a>, prepared by a team at Stanford University, document what some interviewees describe as a “wave of terror” upon hearing them. Their sound, both up <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBDq264OH0E&feature=youtu.be">close</a> and at a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REa19YJjAlg">distance</a>, is particular and pervasive. En masse the reference to bees is obvious.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rBDq264OH0E?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>A recent military exercise undertaken by Israel against Palestine in 2012, titled Operation Pillar Of Defence, extensively used the sonic capacity of drones. During this operation, sound was used as a constant reminder that at any stage strikes could be made. This auditory threat – added to the general discomfort of constant buzzing and whirring of machinery overhead – proved a powerful weapon.</p>
<p>On the ground too, sonic weapons such as the Long Range Acoustic Device are being increasingly deployed. Originally created as a means of long distance communication in marine settings (over distances as far as three kilometers), the device has been widely used since the early 2000s. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QSMyY3_dmrM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>During Pittsburgh’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSMyY3_dmrM">G20 protests in September 2009</a>, it was deployed to disperse crowds with incredibly high volume, directional sound. Use of the device led to subsequent legal action against the city of Pittsburgh, with one claimant, <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2041733/Karen-Piper-deafened-polices-Long-Range-Acoustic-Device-used-protesters.html">Karen Piper, receiving damages of US$72,000</a> after suffering permanent hearing damage.</p>
<p>Almost <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/lawreport/australian-police-buy-up-on-sound-weapons/7419408">all states in Australia</a> have acquired these acoustic devices in recent years, though their usage is primarily for communication during siege and disaster situations, not crowd control. Still, the <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/lawreport/sound-as-control/7280526">law and enforcement implications</a> of these devices and the emergent field of <a href="https://www.academia.edu/16498785/Towards_an_Acoustic_Jurisprudence_Law_and_the_Long_Range_Acoustic_Device">acoustic jurisprudence</a> are sure to become of greater interest. </p>
<h2>The Terror Jukebox</h2>
<p>Recorded music too, is an increasingly powerful weapon used to “break” prisoners during interrogation. The formula for music as a form of terror is equal parts volume, aesthetics and repetition. It’s a methodology that recognises we have no earlids. Unlike our eyes, we cannot shut out sound and this means we’re vulnerable to it in ways we don’t always consider.</p>
<p>In the early 20th century, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYPXAo1cOA4">Luigi Russolo’s Intonarumori</a> – a group of experimental acoustic instruments - heralded an assault on the harmonic canon of music. The performances he gave with these instruments created outrage and discomfort in his audiences. In his manifesto <a href="http://www.artype.de/Sammlung/pdf/russolo_noise.pdf">The Art Of Noise</a>, he espoused a violent rethinking of the potentials of music and noise.</p>
<p>In Greece between 1967 and 1974, the Military Police and the aptly called Special Interrogation Unit used music in two distinct ways. It was played very loudly over long periods of time to detainees. And prisoners were pressured to undertake periods of forced singing, with renditions of the same song over and over again.</p>
<p>Similarly in Northern Ireland in the early 1970s, a so-called <a href="http://www.irishtimes.com/news/crime-and-law/the-torture-centre-northern-ireland-s-hooded-men-1.2296152">Music Room</a> was used to break hooded detainees placed in internment. Extremely loud white noise was blasted at them. Outside the Music Room, a device called the <a href="http://www.spannered.org/features/806/">Curdler</a> was also used to torture prisoners – it emitted a loud sound at a frequency range specifically sensitive to humans.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140640/original/image-20161006-20132-fselr5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140640/original/image-20161006-20132-fselr5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140640/original/image-20161006-20132-fselr5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140640/original/image-20161006-20132-fselr5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140640/original/image-20161006-20132-fselr5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140640/original/image-20161006-20132-fselr5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140640/original/image-20161006-20132-fselr5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Black Sabbath in 2011: their music was blasted at Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega during the US Government’s 1989 Operation Nifty Package.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">David McNew/Reuters</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In 1989, meanwhile, the US Government launched <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Nifty_Package">Operation Nifty Package</a>. Its aim was the extraction of the opera-loving Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega, who had sought asylum in the papal nunciature of Panama City. After a lengthy playlist of loud rock and heavy metal - including Styx and Black Sabbath - was blasted at the building in which he sheltered, Noriega was ejected from the diplomatic quarter. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/140638/original/image-20161006-20132-veopbm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Nancy Sinatra holding her Go Go boots in 1996.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Fred Prouser/Reuters</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One of the most extraordinary sonic duels occurred in 1993, when the Branch Davidians and officers Bureau Of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives faced off during the infamous siege of Waco. The government agencies assaulted the Davidian compound with repeated plays of Nancy Sinatra’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbyAZQ45uww">These Boots Are Made For Walkin’</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BIRJMESl4U8">droning Tibetan mantras</a>, recordings of rabbits being slaughtered and Christmas carols. In turn, the Davidian leader David Koresh retaliated with broadcasts of his own songs – until the compound’s power was switched off.</p>
<p>Still, this encounter was primitive when compared to contemporary methods of music torture. The sound systems used during Waco, for example, were largely directionless and agents working for the government needed earplugs to block the effects of their own soundtrack.</p>
<p>In the past decade, the use of music as torture has been cemented in facilities such as Guantanamo Bay and other undisclosed detention camps. A branch of the United States Military, Psychological Operations, is renowned for its ability to influence behaviour and assist in the psychological “breaking” of detainees through the use of sound.</p>
<p>The <a href="http://www.ibtimes.com/pulse/cia-torture-songs-how-music-was-used-create-sense-hopelessness-1745523">choice of music</a> used as part of these interrogations at Guantanamo was wildly disparate. Death metal band Deicide’s infamous song Fuck Your God was often used, as well as aggressive hip hop.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/t8roxM1k02g?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>But so, too, were the songs of Britney Spears, (Hit Me Baby One More Time was played often), and perhaps most surprisingly, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwLLH9EZiqc">I Love You</a> from Barney and Friends. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vWPNu4TRBis?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>The writer of the Barney and Friends song, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2008/dec/10/stop-the-music-torture-initiative">Bob Singleton, was shocked at its use</a>. How, he wondered, could a song “designed to make little children feel safe and loved” drive adults to emotional breaking point? </p>
<p>His disgust at the use of his music in this context wasn’t uncommon. Indeed artists such as Massive Attack, Nine Inch Nails, Rage Against The Machine and others teamed up with the NGO Reprieve to create the <a href="http://www.reprieve.org.uk/press/2009_10_10_musiciansriseupagainstguantanamo/">Zero dB coalition</a> against the use of music-related torture. Tom Morello, then guitarist with Rage Against the Machine, spoke of inmates being blasted with music for 72 hours, “at volumes just below that to shatter the eardrums”. </p>
<p>The Canadian electro-industrial band <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2014/feb/07/skinny-puppy-payment-guantanamo">Skinny Puppy</a> took things one step further – in 2014 it invoiced the US Defence Department US$666,000 for the unauthorised use of its music at Guantánamo Bay.</p>
<p>There’s little doubt music will continue to play a role in the struggles around terror. Indeed the potential of sound as a weapon is, sadly, still in its infancy. Sonic weapons, after all, leave no physical marks. Thus they are perfect for those who wish to remain untraceable. </p>
<hr>
<p><em>Lawrence English will be online for an Author Q&A between 2 and 3pm AEDT on Friday, October 7, 2016. Post your questions in the comments below.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/65230/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lawrence English does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>From Long Range Acoustic Devices used to disperse protesters to ear-splitting military drones to songs blasted on rotation to prisoners, ours is an age in which sound has been repositioned as a tool of terror.Lawrence English, PhD Candidate in Music, Queensland University of TechnologyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/623552016-08-11T23:11:52Z2016-08-11T23:11:52ZJust for you: how to create sounds that only you can hear in a venue<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132560/original/image-20160801-25650-1g7boih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">It's possible to create sound in a part of a room that only you can hear, but others elsewhere cannot.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock/Syda Productions</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Picture your typical busy cafe or restaurant that’s full of people. The diners are usually all forced to listen to the same music that’s pumped into the venue via the speakers.</p>
<p>What if you could create sound that was tailored to each table’s taste so the people there could listen to their own music, sports event, news or just enjoy the silence?</p>
<p>It might sound impossible but it’s closer to becoming a reality than you think. And there are many potential uses for these customised zones of sound.</p>
<p>For example, open plan offices could potentially be quieter as the sounds from watching online videos or conferencing could be custom designed so as not to annoy your co-workers. It could be possible to watch movies at the cinema or at home in different languages by simply sitting in the zone that suits you best.</p>
<p>Personalised advertisement in shopping malls could become a reality, tailored to individuals. Sports stadiums could have various commentary and a quieter field to play on. Maybe art installations and museums could provide audible content in front of exhibits. </p>
<p>The list of possibilities is endless.</p>
<h2>How does it work?</h2>
<p>The sounds you hear every day are <a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-making-waves-in-science-54555">waves</a> that travel through air, just like the ripples on the surface of a pond. When the waves meet they can either stand on top of each other, cancel each other or combine to make new sounds.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ovZkFMuxZNc?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>But by carefully controlling the waves and where they combine, it is possible to have them cancel in some spaces and amplify in other spaces.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DRgOJec0qM8?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>If this idea sounds familiar it might be because you’ve heard of noise cancelling headphones and earphones that perform a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOdEvhEjO2I">similar trick</a>. They listen to sounds moving towards the ear and produce a wave that cancels that sound. But this only happens in one very small area at the ear.</p>
<p>Now think of extending this to a larger area surrounded by loudspeakers to control the ripples of sound travelling through the space inside. </p>
<h2>In the zone</h2>
<p>Each loudspeaker is tuned carefully. They can now produce <a href="http://users.cecs.anu.edu.au/%7Ewzhang/JP/2015SPM_Personal_Sound_Zones.pdf">zones of sound</a> from standing waves and zones of quiet from cancelling waves.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132306/original/image-20160728-21584-ax3k37.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">By varying the output of sounds from an array of speakers surrounding a space you can target specific sounds in specific locations. The different sounds here are represented by the different colours.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">The Conversation</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Theoretically, with unlimited power, any size and any number of zones of sound or silence can be created. But it is more practical to create zones no smaller than approximately half a metre wide and separated by about half a metre. This size would comfortably fit a human head and so the need to go smaller is often not necessary.</p>
<p>A difficult obstacle to overcome is the reflections of sound from the walls of a room. Reflections introduce more sound that needs to be controlled. </p>
<p>The same way light reflects off a mirror, sound reflects off a wall. A mirror that is dirty or covered reflects light poorly and the walls of a room can be treated in a similar manner to reduce sound reflections.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/mXVGIb3bzHI?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>But for walls that can’t be treated, a number of microphones in the room <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1109/ICASSP.2016.7471727">may be a solution</a> to reducing the reflections. <a href="http://www.npl.co.uk/news/seeing-sound">Lasers</a> have also been used to measure how sound travels through a space and <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1109/ICASSP.2014.6854501">might hold potential</a> in the future to predict room reflections.</p>
<p>Generally, the more loudspeakers used, the better the quality of the zones that can be created. When space is limited, the number of loudspeakers that can fit into a room is reduced. </p>
<p>If too few loudspeakers are used and too many zones created, sounds start to leak between the zones. This can cause issues with privacy but not all leaked sounds can be heard.</p>
<p>One way to <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1109/ICASSP.2016.7471687">improve the privacy in the zones</a> is by using a technique called sound masking. We do this by carefully adding zones of subtle <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9T978ES0LdQ">noise</a> that acoustically covers up leaked sounds with minimal effect on others.</p>
<p>We can also <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1109/APSIPA.2015.7415290">reduce the error when creating the zones</a>. This is done by allowing sounds to leak when people can’t hear them, which saves energy. That saved energy can then be used to improve sounds in other places where people want to hear them.</p>
<h2>Promising research</h2>
<p>Some promising research looks at using mathematical models of how the ear hears and processes sound. </p>
<p>This can provide better quality zones and reduce the number of loudspeakers required. Similar to how popular MP3 audio, MP4 video and JPG picture storage technologies work by using human perception to decrease file sizes.</p>
<p>There are still numerous questions to be answered, such as how do we perceive these zones of sound, <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/275257184_The_Relationship_Between_Target_Quality_and_Interference_in_Sound_Zone">is the quality of the sound any good</a> and can reflections from the room be efficiently compensated for?</p>
<p>But we are still on the path to making them a reality. In the past ten years a lot of theory has been published on this topic. In the past five years some two-zone systems have been shown to work in the real world.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lP_NgHv7Fjk?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Researchers have shown it is possible to provide a couple of distinct zones (with about half a metre between them). One zone can contain speech (or music) at a volume equivalent to a regular conversation, the other zone can contain a sound at a volume similar to background air conditioning.</p>
<p>Scale this up and public places will never sound the same again.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/62355/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jacob Donley receives funding from the Department of Education and Training (DET) and the University of Wollongong (UOW).</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christian Ritz works for the University of Wollongong. He has received funding from the Australian Research Council (ARC) and the Cooperative Research Centres (CRC) Programme.</span></em></p>Your own choice of music in a restaurant, your preferred language in a cinema, and a personal tour in a museum. All are possible if you can control the sound in almost any place.Jacob Donley, PhD Candidate, University of WollongongChristian Ritz, Associate professor, University of WollongongLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/637462016-08-10T22:24:26Z2016-08-10T22:24:26ZTurkey’s coup and the call to prayer: Sounds of violence meet Islamic devotionals<p>The sounds of the recent military coup will long be remembered by people in Turkey.</p>
<p>Yet as Turks in Istanbul, Ankara, Izmir and other urban centers strained to differentiate the sounds of explosive devices from the sonic booms of F-16s on July 15, 2016, they were most shocked by another sound, at once familiar and deeply startling: the Islamic call to prayer.</p>
<p>As an ethnomusicologist, I <a href="http://cssaame.dukejournals.org/content/31/3/615.short">study</a> distinct and often contradictory ways people make and listen to music and sound. July’s coup created a new soundscape for communities in western Turkey: sounds of violence combined with the call to prayer. </p>
<p>Known in Turkish as the “ezan,” this <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Fejskf0ZFc">intricate, melodic recitation</a> is a quintessential marker of daily life, inviting the devout to pray. In Muslim communities, an <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6OvpZ9MFFg">ezan</a>, or “adhan” in Arabic, is heard five times daily: before dawn, at midday, in the afternoon, when the sun sets and at night. In populated urban settings in Turkey, residents will hear multiple calls projected from mosques simultaneously. Some areas in Istanbul are celebrated precisely for their ezan soundmarks, unique places or territories made meaningful by the sounds heard there. Skillful reciters respond to one another in stunning call-and-response <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bm7Nijds-OI">patterns</a>.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/O0jnT4BHwpA?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>But for all its familiarity, few Turks had ever heard the ezan outside official times. That changed in the early hours of July 16. As members of the Turkish military sought control of the country, Turks began hearing both the ezan and the “sela” (“salat al-janazah” in Arabic) – a prayerful recitation asking forgiveness for Muslims who have died – in a cacophony that lasted hours.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0AsoldW1yio?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Turkish listeners were astounded. Were these calls to prayer <a href="http://qz.com/734044/how-opponents-of-turkeys-coup-used-the-call-to-prayer-to-mobilize-protests/">meant to be calls to arms</a>?</p>
<h2>Locating the call</h2>
<p>Several Turkish <a href="http://www.hurriyet.com.tr/ezan-erken-okundu-darbe-girisimi-kinandi-40148505">news outlets</a> <a href="http://www.posta.com.tr/turkiye/HaberDetay/Ezan-erken-okundu--darbe-girisimi-kinandi.htm?ArticleID=353448">reported</a> that religious leaders at mosques throughout Turkey were <a href="http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2016/07/turkey-coup-attempt-erdogan-mosques.html">directly asked</a> to recite the calls by the state-run Ministry of Religious Affairs. In other words, the democratically elected Justice and Development Party (AKP) used the ministry to deploy the ezan as a call for citizens to confront soldiers attempting the coup. President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan also appeared on <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/video/2016/jul/15/erdogan-facetime-turkey-coup-attempt">CNN-Turk</a> via FaceTime to invite people to gather in public squares to resist the coup.</p>
<p>The last two times that the ezan and the sela were incanted outside of ritual time occurred before the Republic of Turkey’s boundaries were established in 1923. During World War I, as the British and French laid siege to Istanbul at the Battle of Gallipoli, <a href="http://espace.library.uq.edu.au/view/UQ:363131">Ottomans heard the ezan</a> and the sela sounding across the Marmara Sea. In 1922, Greek soldiers retreating from Anatolia ostensibly left the port city of <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1931-0846.2012.00155.x/abstract">Izmir</a> with recitations ringing in their ears. In both cases, the ezan and sela were used to marshal Ottoman Muslims to defend their communities.</p>
<p>Reciting the call to prayer outside of normalized Islamic ritual time rendered this July coup a kind of war against Turkey itself. </p>
<p>During the coup attempt, some listeners found the calls <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ceZ9nDXRxk">inspiring and mobilizing</a>. They believed that answering the call by gathering in the streets demonstrated support for either the AKP or the party’s Islamic roots. </p>
<p>Other listeners – who may or may not support the AKP or Erdoğan – flooded public squares primarily to protest the violence that has almost inevitably followed previous military coups.</p>
<p>And another group of listeners anxiously heard the ezan and the sela in light of the Egyptian coup of 2013, when mosques in Cairo projected <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/africaandindianocean/egypt/10166063/Egypt-coup-July-8-as-it-happened.html">similar recitations</a>. They worried that Turkey now sounds more like the Middle East than Europe, and that their country is leaning more toward authoritarianism than democracy. They continue to question whether this latest coup might initiate a contagion of violence that would further destabilize Turkish social life.</p>
<h2>Listening in Turkey after the coup</h2>
<p>Such differences in the way people listened to and interpreted the sounds of the coup amplify Turkey’s longstanding polarization between state secularism and public practices of Islam. As morning gave way to afternoon, and the coup was formally quieted, Turks took to social media to discuss the recitations.</p>
<p>“In the past, secular coup instigators silenced the ezan,” a politician <a href="http://www.haberturk.com/yerel-haberler/haber/46569187-ak-parti-kars-il-baskani-adem-calkin-eskiden-darbeler-ezanlari-sustururdu-simdi-ezanlar">observed</a>. “Now the ezan silences the coup instigators.” </p>
<p>In the weeks following the coup, the call to prayer has resumed its role in the everyday, yet it continues to haunt the ears of many cosmopolitan Turks unfamiliar with living amidst sounds of violence. </p>
<p>A day after the coup, a man <a href="http://www.fetihtv.com/">was interviewed</a> standing before a tank as police pulled soldiers from it. “You did a coup in the ‘60’s, you did a coup in '70’s,” he shouted at the camera. His words would <a href="https://twitter.com/11_serkan/status/754654682287632384">circulate</a> on <a href="https://fo-fo.facebook.com/VBAskina/posts/1250359601649780">social media</a> in the days to come. “You did a coup in the '80’s. You did a coup in the '90’s. At that time our fathers and grandfathers were silent but we will not be silent!” </p>
<p>This metaphor of sound resonates with our own English language expressions. To “have a voice” is to have political power, whereas “the voiceless” have no political agency or representation. </p>
<p>Refusing to be silent is to take up sound as power. But this coup’s most lasting change will not be found in raised voices, nor in the making of noise. Rather, the coup and its aftermath have engendered new, conflicting forms of listening.</p>
<p>That indeed is something to which we should be attuned.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/63746/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Denise Gill is currently a fellow with the American Council of Learned Societies (ACLS).</span></em></p>Unexpected calls to prayer from mosques in Turkey caught many off guard on the night of the attempted coup. An ethnomusicologist explains the political and social power of sound.Denise Gill, Assistant Professor of Ethnomusicology, Washington University in St. LouisLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/602962016-06-20T10:04:25Z2016-06-20T10:04:25ZCracking the mystery of the ‘Worldwide Hum’<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126373/original/image-20160613-29238-dncf1u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The author began hearing the sound at night, between the hours of 10 and 11 p.m.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-135708347/stock-photo-foggy-street-with-nobody-in-the-suburb.html?src=OTFNmJT9l1FgyTBWhLFzWw-1-38">'Street' via www.shutterstock.com</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In the spring of 2012, when I was living near the coastal village of Sechelt, on British Columbia’s picturesque Sunshine Coast, I began hearing a humming sound, which I thought were float planes.</p>
<p>The noise usually started later at night, between 10 and 11 p.m. My first clue that something unusual was happening came with the realization that the sound didn’t fade away, like plane noises typically do. And the slightest ambient noise – exhaling audibly, even turning my head quickly – caused it to momentarily stop. One night after the sound started I stepped outside the house. Nothing.</p>
<p>I was the only person in the house who could hear it; my family said they didn’t know what I was talking about. </p>
<p>Naturally, I assumed something in the house was the culprit, and I searched for the source in vain. I even ended up cutting the power to the entire house. The sound got louder. </p>
<p>While I couldn’t hear the sound outdoors, I could still hear it in my car at night with the windows closed and the ignition off. I drove for miles in every direction, and it was still there in the background when I stopped the car. I was able to rule out obvious sources: industrial activity, marine traffic, electric substations and highway noise. </p>
<p>When I searched on the internet for “unusual low-frequency humming noise,” I soon realized that others had conducted the same search. I was part of the small fraction of people who can hear what is called the “Worldwide Hum” or, simply, the “Hum.” </p>
<p>The questions motivating me and thousands of others were the same: “What’s causing this? Can it be stopped?” </p>
<h2>One geoscientist’s theory</h2>
<p>The classic description of the Hum is that it sounds like a truck engine idling. For some, it’s a distant rumbling or droning noise. It can start and stop suddenly or wax and wane over time. For others, the Hum is loud, relentless and life-altering. </p>
<p>I eventually came across one of the few serious papers on the <a href="http://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.518.9056&rep=rep1&type=pdf">topic</a>. It was written in 2004 by geoscientist David Deming (who’s also a Hum hearer). </p>
<p>Deming began by describing the standard history: The Hum was first documented in the late 1960s, around Bristol, England. It first appeared in the United States in the late 1980s, in Taos, New Mexico.</p>
<p>He then examined the competing hypotheses for the source of the Hum. Many have pointed to the electric grid or cellphone towers. But this theory is dismissed on two grounds: cellphones didn’t exist in the 1960s, and the frequency emitted by both cell towers and the electric grid can be easily blocked by metal enclosures.</p>
<p>He wondered whether <a href="http://www.csicop.org/si/show/mass_delusions_and_hysterias_highlights_from_the_past_millennium">mass hysteria</a> was to blame, a psychological phenomenon in which rumor and “collective delusions” lead to the appearance of physical ailments for which there’s no medical explanation. The fact that so many people have researched the Hum on their own, using a search engine – rather than hearing about it from some other person – moves the conversation away from delusion and hysteria spread by word of mouth.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126390/original/image-20160613-29222-k3ykam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126390/original/image-20160613-29222-k3ykam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126390/original/image-20160613-29222-k3ykam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126390/original/image-20160613-29222-k3ykam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126390/original/image-20160613-29222-k3ykam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126390/original/image-20160613-29222-k3ykam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126390/original/image-20160613-29222-k3ykam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Some have dismissed cellphone towers as a potential source.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-171291503/stock-photo-some-silhouetted-antennas-on-the-top-of-a-hill.html?src=xLWGD1FhmP8s4UxWzagTyQ-1-71">'Cell Towers' via www.shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Deming looked at the High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program (HAARP), an isolated military compound in Alaska that uses radio waves to study outer space and for testing advanced communication techniques – and a favorite focus of conspiracy theorists, <a href="http://www.npr.org/2014/06/10/319539712/bye-bye-to-the-home-of-a-favorite-internet-conspiracy-theory">who have accused the facility</a> of acts ranging from mind control to weather control. He studied the possibility of <a href="http://www.asha.org/public/hearing/Otoacoustic-Emissions/">otoacoustic emissions</a>, which are naturally occurring sounds caused by the vibration of hair cells in the ear. </p>
<p>Deming eventually fingered <a href="http://vlf.stanford.edu/research/introduction-vlf">Very Low Frequency (VLF) radio waves</a> (between 3 kHz and 30 kHz) as the most likely culprit. The world’s military powers use massive land-based and airborne transmitters on these frequencies in order to communicate with submerged submarines. Radio waves at these frequencies can penetrate up to a solid inch of aluminum.</p>
<p>In the paper, Deming proposes a simple and elegant experiment for testing this hypothesis. Hum hearers randomly enter three identical-looking boxes. The first box blocks VLF radio signals, the second box is an anechoic (soundproof) chamber and the third box is the control. </p>
<p>He left the experiment for others to pursue, and while there are some practical difficulties with the design, Deming’s overall concept has motivated the experiments I am currently conducting. </p>
<h2>A disciplined inquiry begins</h2>
<p>A plethora of pseudoscience and wild conspiracy theories has the potential to drown out the serious work in this area. I’ve encountered seemingly serious people who have argued that the Hum is caused by <a href="http://allnewspipeline.com/Underground_Tunnels_Unexplained_Booms.php">tunneling under the earth</a>, the <a href="http://spectralintelligencesolutions.com/gang_stalking.html">electronic targeting</a> of specific individuals, <a href="http://www.theworldhum.com/">aliens</a> and <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/environment/nature/mysterious-hum-keeping-people-up-all-night-could-be-mating-fish-8900747.html">mating fish</a>. </p>
<p>Given the need for disciplined inquiry into the phenomenon, in late 2012 I started <a href="http://www.thehum.info">The World Hum Map and Database Project</a>. The database gathers, documents and maps detailed and anonymous information from people who can hear the Hum. It provides raw data for research in a strictly moderated and serious forum for research and commentary, while providing a sense of community for people whose lives have been negatively affected by the Hum.</p>
<p>Most people have some experience with how disruptive some types of noises can be, which is why there are often noise ordinances in many cities and towns, especially at night. There are many sufferers who dread the nighttime because of how loud and relentless the Hum can be. The Hum database is replete with descriptions of desperate people who have been tormented by the noise for years. The phrase “driving me crazy” is all too common. (I feel fortunate that, in my case, the Hum is more of a curiosity than it is an irritant.)</p>
<p>The project also aims to validate and normalize the phenomenon by discussing it alongside other widely reported auditory phenomena, such as <a href="http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/tinnitus/home/ovc-20180349">tinnitus</a>, a relatively common medical condition that causes people to hear high-pitched squealing tones. Those who experience tinnitus and also the Hum report the two as being completely different in character.</p>
<p>The latest update of the Hum Map, from June 6, presents roughly 10,000 map and data points, and we’ve already made some notable findings.</p>
<p>For example, we’ve found that the mean and median age of Hum hearers is 40.5 years, and 55 percent of hearers are men. This goes against the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hum">widely repeated</a> theory that the Hum mainly affects middle-aged and older women.</p>
<p>Interestingly, there are eight times as many ambidextrous people among hearers as there are in the general population. As more data are collected from Hum hearers, I hope that specialists in demographics and inferential statistics will be able to generate more detailed results. </p>
<h2>The goals of the research</h2>
<p>The historical record of the Hum is crucial, because if the current version as narrated by Deming is correct, many theories can immediately be ruled out. After all, cellphones and HAARP didn’t exist until decades after the Worldwide Hum was first documented in England in the late 1960s. I currently have a researcher digging into the Times of London digital archive to search for mentions of the Hum going back to the 18th and 19th centuries. If convincing examples are found, then the direction of my research will shift dramatically because all modern technologies could be ruled out.</p>
<p>In my view, there are currently four hypotheses for the source of the world Hum that survive the most superficial scrutiny. </p>
<p>The first hypothesis – argued by Deming and the one I’m currently pursuing – is that the Hum is rooted in Very Low Frequency (VLF) radio transmissions. It’s increasingly accepted now that the human body will sometimes experience electromagnetic (EM) energy and interpret it in a way that creates sounds. This was established for high-frequency EM energy by the American neuroscientist Alan Frey in his infamous <a href="http://www.cellphonetaskforce.org/?page_id=594">“microwave hearing” experiments</a>, which showed that certain radio frequencies can actually be heard as sounds. </p>
<p>Today, there are <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/12379225">biophysical models</a> that predict and explain the impact VLF EM energy has on living tissue. I have designed and built a VLF radio blocking box that should be able to test whether VLF radio frequencies are a prerequisite for generating the Hum.</p>
<p>The second hypothesis is that the Hum is the grand accumulation of low-frequency sound and human-generated infrasound (sounds with audio frequencies below roughly 20 Hz and which can be felt more than they can be heard). This includes everything from highway noise to all manner of industrial activity. </p>
<p>The third is that the Hum is a terrestrial or geological phenomenon that generates low-frequency sounds or perceptions of those sounds. For example, there is a <a href="http://earthquake.usgs.gov/learn/topics/animal_eqs.php">well-documented history</a> of animals predicting earthquakes and taking action to save themselves. From an evolutionary perspective, there may be survival value in having members of a population highly sensitive to some types of vibrations. When it comes to the Hum, some humans may have a similar physiological mechanism in place.</p>
<p>The fourth is that the Hum is an internally generated phenomenon, perhaps rooted in a particular anatomical variation, genetic predisposition or the result of toxicity and medication. </p>
<p>The Hum is now the subject of <a href="https://newrepublic.com/article/132128/maddening-sound">serious media coverage</a> and, increasingly, scientific scrutiny. The overall goal of my project and the people who contribute to it is to find the source of the Hum and, if possible, stop it. </p>
<p>If the Hum is man-made, then my task is to raise public awareness and advocate turning away from the technologies that are causing it. If the source is exogenous and natural, there’s the possibility that there may be no escape from it, apart from masking it with background sounds.</p>
<p>Of course there is the remote possibility that one of the more exotic explanations will prove to be correct. But, as in all science, it seems best to start with what we know and is plausible, as opposed to what we don’t know and is implausible.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/60296/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Glen MacPherson is affiliated with the British Columbia Teachers' Federation. </span></em></p>Shortly after Glen MacPherson started hearing strange humming noises, he created the World Hum and Database Project so people around the world could document their own experiences with the Hum.Glen MacPherson, Lecturer, University of British ColumbiaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/455372015-08-21T09:44:17Z2015-08-21T09:44:17ZEvery song has a color – and an emotion – attached to it<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92462/original/image-20150819-10847-mjtthu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The electronic band STS9 is known for having intoxicating light shows accompany their live performances.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/shannon_tompkins/9551462104/in/photolist-fy2JV7-fy2J4E-fy2Dum-h7QjrK-abUdxq-fDcTJc-eeyTjP-6ziVer-h7QwhE-fvMejG-h7QP55-h7QG8b-h7QuFU-h7Qu1p-E4dL6-4c55P-6zo1QQ-6ziXqi-6zo3cd-6zo2VS-6zo2Ed-6zo2tu-fxf1Q4-oYhkzV-oYgCW3-fDMJN3-6zo1Gf-4BstKB-7DxkVh-7DxkUq-7DxkTG-7DtxaM-7DxkRo-7DxkQN-5irtg8-6ziWfv-6ziVAH-6zo1oq-6ziXER-6ziY4X-5ivKcA-6ziUDa-7DxkWb-6ziUNH-DFaTd-h7R2Bj-h7QHZX-h7S8TV-h7S8Vt-h7QHAa">Shannon Tompkins/flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Imagine yourself as a graphic designer for New Age musician <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2zkjQVh5KmQ">Enya</a>, tasked with creating her next album cover. Which two or three colors from the grid below do you think would “go best” with her music?</p>
<p>Would they be the same ones you’d pick for an album cover or music video for the heavy metal band <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnKhsTXoKCI">Metallica</a>? Probably not. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92161/original/image-20150817-5083-1wjtbhd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92161/original/image-20150817-5083-1wjtbhd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92161/original/image-20150817-5083-1wjtbhd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92161/original/image-20150817-5083-1wjtbhd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92161/original/image-20150817-5083-1wjtbhd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=723&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92161/original/image-20150817-5083-1wjtbhd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=723&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92161/original/image-20150817-5083-1wjtbhd.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=723&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For years, my collaborators and I have been studying <a href="http://www.pnas.org/content/110/22/8836">music-to-color associations</a>. From our results, it’s clear that emotion plays a crucial role in how we interpret and respond to any number of external stimuli, including colors and songs. </p>
<h2>The colors of songs</h2>
<p>In one study, we asked 30 people to listen to four music clips, and simply choose the colors that “went best” with the music they were hearing from a 37-color array. </p>
<p>In fact, you can listen to the clips yourself. Think about which two to three colors from the grid you would choose that “go best” with each selection. </p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="52" data-image="" data-title="Selection A" data-size="1645336" data-source="" data-source-url="" data-license="" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/193/a-bach-major-fast-short.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
Selection A.
</div></p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="51" data-image="" data-title="Selection B" data-size="1637864" data-source="" data-source-url="" data-license="" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/194/b-bach-minor-slow-short.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
Selection B.
</div></p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="15" data-image="" data-title="Selection C" data-size="2646090" data-source="" data-source-url="" data-license="" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/195/c-classic-rock.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
Selection C.
</div></p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="15" data-image="" data-title="Selection D" data-size="2658932" data-source="" data-source-url="" data-license="" data-license-url="">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/196/d-piano.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
</audio>
<div class="audio-player-caption">
Selection D.
</div></p>
<p>The image below shows the participants’ first-choice colors to the four musical selections provided above. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92463/original/image-20150819-10863-141u1ja.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92463/original/image-20150819-10863-141u1ja.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=123&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92463/original/image-20150819-10863-141u1ja.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=123&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92463/original/image-20150819-10863-141u1ja.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=123&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92463/original/image-20150819-10863-141u1ja.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=155&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92463/original/image-20150819-10863-141u1ja.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=155&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92463/original/image-20150819-10863-141u1ja.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=155&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Selection A, from Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto Number 2, caused most people to pick colors that were bright, vivid and dominated by yellows. Selection B, a different section of the very same Bach concerto, caused participants to pick colors that are noticeably darker, grayer and bluer. Selection C was an excerpt from a 1990s rock song, and it caused participants to choose reds, blacks and other dark colors. Meanwhile, selection D, a slow, quiet, “easy listening” piano piece, elicited selections dominated by muted, grayish colors in various shades of blue.</p>
<h2>The mediating role of emotion</h2>
<p>But why do music and colors match up in this particular way? </p>
<p>We believe that it’s because music and color have common emotional qualities. Certainly, most music conveys emotion. In the four clips you just heard, selection A “sounds” happy and strong, while B sounds sad and weak. C sounds angry and strong, and D sounds sad and calm. (Why this might be the case is something we’ll explore later.)</p>
<p><a href="http://psycnet.apa.org/index.cfm?fa=buy.optionToBuy&id=1995-08699-001">If colors have similar emotional associations</a>, people should be able to match colors and songs that contain overlapping emotional qualities. They may not know that they’re doing this, but the results corroborate this idea. </p>
<p><a href="http://www.pnas.org/content/110/22/8836">We’ve tested our theory</a> by having people rate each musical selection and each color on five emotional dimensions: happy to sad, angry to calm, lively to dreary, active to passive, and strong to weak. </p>
<p>We compared the results and found that they were almost perfectly aligned: the happiest-sounding music elicited the happiest-looking colors (bright, vivid, yellowish ones), while the saddest-sounding music elicited the saddest-looking colors (dark, grayish, bluish ones). Meanwhile, the angriest-sounding music elicited the angriest-looking colors (dark, vivid, reddish ones). </p>
<p>To study possible cultural differences, we repeated the very same experiment in Mexico. To our surprise, the Mexican and US results were virtually identical, which suggests that music-to-color associations might be universal. (We’re currently testing this possibility in cultures, such as Turkey and India, where the traditional music differs more radically from Western music.)</p>
<p>These results support the idea that music-to-color associations in most people are indeed mediated by emotion.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92183/original/image-20150817-25727-1gknyud.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The album cover designers for Enya’s Shepherd Moons and Metallica’s Master of Puppets may have subconsciously chosen colors that matched the emotional qualities of the respective artists’ music.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>People who actually see colors when listening to music</h2>
<p>There’s a small minority of people – maybe one in 3,000 – who have even stronger connections between music and colors. They are called chromesthetes, and they spontaneously “see” colors as they listen to music. </p>
<p>For example, a clip from the 2009 film The Soloist shows the complex, internally generated “light show” that the lead character – a chromesthetic street musician – might have experienced while listening to Beethoven’s Third Symphony.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PTLdTP-gJeA?wmode=transparent&start=50" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Chromesthesia is just one form of a more general condition called <a href="https://mitpress.mit.edu/books/wednesday-indigo-blue">synesthesia</a>, in which certain individuals experience incoming sensory information both in the appropriate sensory dimension and in some other, seemingly inappropriate, sensory dimension. </p>
<p>The most common form of synesthesia is <a href="http://otherthings.com/uw/syn/">letter-to-color synesthesia</a>, in which the synesthete experiences color when viewing black letters and digits. There are many other forms of synesthesia, including chromesthesia, that affect a surprising number of different sensory domains. </p>
<p><a href="http://cbc.ucsd.edu/pdf/Synaesthesia%20-%20JCS.pdf">Some theories</a> propose that synesthesia is caused by direct connections between different sensory areas of the brain. <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21038232">Other theories</a> propose that synesthesia is related to brain areas that produce emotional responses. </p>
<p>The former theory implies little or no role for emotion in determining the colors that chromesthetes experience, whereas the latter theory implies a strong role for emotion. </p>
<p>Which theory is correct? </p>
<p>To find out, we repeated the music-color association experiment with 11 chromesthetes and 11 otherwise similar non-chromesthetes. The non-chromesthetes chose the colors that “went best” with the music (as described above), but the chromesthetes chose the colors that were “most similar to the colors they experienced while listening to the music.” </p>
<p>The left side of the image below shows the first choices of the syensethetes and non-synesthetes for fast-paced classical music in a major key (like selection A), which tends to sound happy and strong. The right side shows the color responses for slow-paced classical music in a minor key (like selection B), which tends to sound sad and weak. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=414&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=414&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=414&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=520&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=520&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92173/original/image-20150817-5127-1bphakg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=520&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The color choices of synesthetes and non-synesthetes after listening to fast, major key music and slow, minor key music.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The color experiences of chromesthetes (Figure B) turned out to be remarkably like the colors that non-chromesthetes chose as going best with the same music (Figure A). </p>
<p>But we mainly wanted to know how the non-chromesthetes and chromesthetes would compare in terms of emotional effects. The results are depicted in Figure C.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/92176/original/image-20150817-5117-1jodo3r.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Interestingly, the emotional effects for chromesthetes were as strong as those for non-chromesthetes on some dimensions (happy/sad, active/passive and strong/weak), but weaker on others (calm/agitated and angry/not-angry).</p>
<p>The fact that chromesthetes exhibit emotional effects at all suggests that music-to-color synesthesia depends, at least in part, on neural connections that include emotion-related circuits in the brain. That they’re decidedly weaker in chromesthetes than non-chromesthetes for some emotions further suggests that chromesthetic experiences also depend on direct, <em>non-emotional connections</em> between the auditory and visual cortex. </p>
<h2>Musical anthropomorphism</h2>
<p>The fact that music-to-color associations are so strongly influenced by emotion raises further questions. For example, why is it that fast, loud, high-pitched music “sounds” angry, whereas slow, quiet, low-pitched music “sounds” calm? </p>
<p>We don’t know the answers yet, but one intriguing possibility is what we like to call “musical anthropomorphism” – the idea that sounds are emotionally interpreted as being analogous to the behavior of people. </p>
<p>For example, faster, louder, high-pitched music might be perceived as angry because people tend to move and speak more quickly and raise their voices in pitch and volume when they’re angry, while doing the opposite when they’re calm. Why music in a major key sounds happier than music in a minor key, however, remains a mystery. </p>
<p>Artists and graphic designers can certainly use these results when they’re creating light shows for concerts or album covers for bands – so that “listening” to music can become richer and more vivid by “seeing” and “feeling” it as well.</p>
<p>But on a deeper level, it’s fascinating to see how effective and efficient the brain is at coming up with abstract associations. </p>
<p>To find connections between different perceptual events – such as music and color – our brains try to find commonalities. Emotions emerge dramatically because so much of our inner lives are associated with them. They are central not only to how we interpret incoming information, but also to how we respond to them. </p>
<p>Given the myriad connections from perceptions to emotions and from emotions to actions, it seems quite natural that emotions emerge so strongly – and perhaps unconsciously – in finding the best colors for a song.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/45537/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Stephen Palmer receives funding from the National Science Foundation that has, in part, supported this research.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Karen B Schloss does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Why do certain songs and colors make us feel a certain way?Stephen Palmer, Professor of the Graduate School, University of California, BerkeleyKaren B Schloss, Assistant Professor of Research, Brown UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/394172015-05-15T10:16:22Z2015-05-15T10:16:22ZDon’t know how to get your kid to do math? Try patterns<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/81730/original/image-20150514-28615-ktlyr6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Helping kids learn patterns can develop math skills.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/poughkeepsiedayschool/16132844393/in/photolist-qzB3zx-rwhpfr-48AhM5-nf2i45-gWEbC8-gWFnAM-8pCzLP-7zbWw7-6gxQ6a-8UFDRT-8UFE6n-8UJHfs-8UFE2g-ouLuzi-dUbPgA-fhofnR-gWEbVc-gWEc62-gWEctL-fp3eVC-dmsT3Z-7YJDR7-5vkXCZ-dmsuf1-eYvxcZ-4schxv-gWE9P8-dmt27d-gWEsBw-dmsGrm-qQZ4ek-dmsVJD-cxraVu-cxkAK1-pUvjJx-fkWUSy-4czcHY-rJLT3m-dmsQnN-7tmR89-4ddm3k-aAbFLh-fkphVs-gWEsMS-gWEbv5-8DvqfP-o9SsYW-fkabvB-gWE9zR-oWNXFs">Poughkeepsie Day School</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Parents and teachers know that reading to their children in preschool and kindergarten is important. But how can parents and teachers support young children’s mathematics knowledge?</p>
<p>One often overlooked activity is patterning, or thinking about patterns. Patterns are predictable sequences, such as stripes (for example, a yellow-green striped shirt) and rhythms (for example, da-de-dum). Young children like to make patterns when they draw and play.</p>
<p>Patterning encourages children to look for regularity and rules – a critical component of mathematical reasoning. For example, in the color pattern red-blue-blue-red-blue-blue, the rule is the part that repeats over and over (red-blue-blue in this pattern). </p>
<p>My own research shows that early pattern knowledge can support later mathematics achievement. And parents and teachers can work with their children from an early age to get them to think more deeply about patterns. </p>
<h2>What parents and teachers typically do</h2>
<p>Parents and teachers most often ask preschool children to copy and extend <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S088520061500006X">patterns</a>. </p>
<p>For example, they ask children to extend a pattern by deciding what comes next in the pattern. Although a good start, these tasks do not push children to think about rules and <a href="http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-53414270.html">regularities</a>.</p>
<p>In contrast, parents and teachers are less likely to encourage their children to do more sophisticated tasks that promote more attention to rules and <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S088520061500006X">regularities</a>.</p>
<p>For example, they rarely ask children to make the same kind of pattern using different objects or sounds (we call this abstracting a pattern) or to name the part of the pattern that repeats (identify a pattern’s rule). </p>
<p>This means parents and teachers are missing out on opportunities to support children’s pattern knowledge and mathematical reasoning.</p>
<h2>Kids get better with patterns</h2>
<p>We have <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/15248372.2012.689897">found</a> that many preschool children (ages 4 to 5) are <a href="http://peabody.vanderbilt.edu/research/pro/about_peabody_research/funded_projects/career_project_home/early_algebra_research_projects/early_algebra_publications.php">able to abstract patterns</a> when prompted to do so. Further, their ability to <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S088520061500006X">abstract patterns</a> over the course of the pre-kindergarten year also improves. However, most have difficulty identifying a pattern’s rule.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/81603/original/image-20150513-2452-1bhx6qr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/81603/original/image-20150513-2452-1bhx6qr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/81603/original/image-20150513-2452-1bhx6qr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/81603/original/image-20150513-2452-1bhx6qr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/81603/original/image-20150513-2452-1bhx6qr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/81603/original/image-20150513-2452-1bhx6qr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/81603/original/image-20150513-2452-1bhx6qr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Using alphabet letters to explain patterns helps kids learn.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.shutterstock.com/cat.mhtml?searchterm=pattern%20alphabets%20children&keyword_search=1&page=10&thumb_size=mosaic&inline=199364972">Alphabets image via www.shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One effective way to support attention to the pattern rule is for adults to label patterns using common, general terms. For example, preschool children learn better when alphabet letters are used to explain a pattern. </p>
<p>So, a red-blue-blue-red-blue-blue pattern could be labeled as an “ABB pattern,” <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/cdev.12331/abstract">rather than</a> labeled using the color names. A new yellow-green-green-yellow-green-green pattern could be labeled as an “ABB pattern” too. This helps children see that the two patterns share a common rule.</p>
<p>If <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10409289.2013.794448#.VVDmbmaYUio">special attention</a> is given to patterning, it can help improve pattern knowledge. For example, research has found that when preschool children were <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5951/jresematheduc.42.3.0237">encouraged</a> to create new patterns over a period of six months, using different materials and with encouragement to identify a pattern’s rule, they were able to explain patterns better a year later. </p>
<h2>Patterning supports math achievement</h2>
<p>When special attention is given to patterning, it also improves children’s general mathematics achievement. Special attention to patterning in <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5951/jresematheduc.42.3.0237">preschool</a> <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10409289.2013.794448#.VVDmbmaYUio">and</a> in <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/02568543.2013.766664">first grade</a> led to better general math knowledge at the end of the school year.</p>
<p>And this early pattern knowledge matters for mathematics achievement in fifth grade as well. Children with better pattern knowledge at age seven had <a href="https://my.vanderbilt.edu/mathfollowup/reports/presentations/">better</a> mathematics achievement at age 11. Early pattern knowledge was found to be important for building later knowledge across a variety of mathematics topics, including number, algebra and geometry. </p>
<p>This also raises the issue of adding this to the <a href="http://www.corestandards.org/Math/">Common Core State Standards</a>, which currently do not include patterning as a math content standard at any grade level. </p>
<p>There was limited evidence available when the standards were written, but now that we know that patterning supports important mathematical reasoning and achievement,
I believe it should be made part of the Common Core standards.</p>
<p>At the same time, teachers and parents should consider how to support patterning in preschool and the early grades. They should help children look for regularities and rules in patterns by asking them to make the same kind of pattern using different objects or sounds and to name the part of the pattern that repeats, so as to identify its rule. </p>
<p>This will help provide a foundation for future math learning and reasoning.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/39417/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bethany Rittle-Johnson receives funding from the National Science Foundation and the U.S. Department of Education</span></em></p>Patterns are simple sequences that repeat over and over again in a certain order. Supporting children’s ability to recognize patterns can improve mathematical skills.Bethany Rittle-Johnson, Associate Professor of Psychology, Vanderbilt UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.