I read this short essay on sound maps and a reflection of it from a Brazilian standpoint referencing artists from non-European communities. Here are some quotes.
This is the case for Steph Ceraso in his article “The Sight of Sound: Mapping audio”: “These Maps, then are snap shots of sound. Thus, in the process of creating more dynamic representation of the places they map, sound cartographers are also transforming sound into something static, something that we can repeatedly experience. This seems far removed from the embodied experience of encountering sound in its original environment”
So sound maps and real sound experiences are different, one is static and can be experienced over and over again. Real sound happens in an instant.
Similarly, Traux points out that “lacking any coherent temporal perspective, and usually lacking any interpretative analysis, the listener is left trying to imagine what has been recorded and what significance it has.
So if just listening without any idea of temporal objective definitions. It can be difficult to understand or perhaps gauge what is going on within the recording, similar to Salomé and her ideas that the recordist should be present!
Like maps, recordings operate under selection criteria defined by their creators, who act under certain circumstances. Field recordists are always being called upon to make decisions based on contingencies that arise, whether during practice in the field or concerning the critieria selected by the creators of the sound-map platforms. Field recordings have a beginning and an end, and sound itself—explicit sound, audible to huamans—can never be static. The inscription of the sound—implicit sound, which is stored (in 0s and 1s), distributed, and understood only by machines—may appear to be static, resting in the (digital) file sound archive, until it is reproduced and reaches human ears again in the form of sound waves. But it still will be a memory, a trace of the environment in which it was captured, not that environment itself.
So field recordings are a memory of what was captured, not the actual environment itself. I couldn’t agree more. This is something that has stopped me from chasing this idea of ideal recordings, in a natural world. Isolation and serene soundscapes.
In an interview given for the study I conducted on sound maps, researcher and field recordist Rafael de Olivera offers what may be an explanation for this understanding of the recording as something that does not carry, in itself, traces of these relationships that are established during the sound recording in the field: “For a long time, photographs were not considered art, because they were taken directly from reality. Art had to be something that proposed an abstract discussion. And I think photography is somehow attached to that idea. The ones who make photographies still don’t see themselves as creators.”
The fact that a recording in itself can be seen as not being something someone has created is disappointing but also interesting. Why is that? The contrast to photos here makes me consider why I have to context or perhaps even consider what I’m doing instead of moving with intubation and really going for what I like doing with recordings, cant my emotional reaction to a sound that I’ve recorded and it’s emotional response trigger something positive be enough?
It is also important to know what is gained. In this case, it is participation, collaboration, and engagement. Also, this engagement does not happen only in “listening through the map” but fundamentally in the practice of field recording. If someone is about to upload an audio file to the sound map, they are probably already engaged in field recordings. The practice of field recording, in turn, is capable of engaging a listening process in the environment that is different from listening with no interest.
So similar to the previous article there really are benefits to field recording, it can creative participation, collaboration and engagement. It seems that the outcome really isn’t important, but perhaps the actual work and physical interactions that are.
During my masters, I realised that this idea of a picture of reality, preservation through captures, it was a little wobbly. That is why I ended up going to cartography. Then [the Mapa Sonoro CWB] ended up with that name of sound map, but actually, it is more of a cartography, and it ended up having… a much more affective focus. Then I began to think about… investigating how these sounds affected people, what that represented.
So sound mapping led towards a greater purpose, which was thinking about how sounds affect people and what that represents.
There were some really spontaneous reactions.. someone starts singing, whistling, forgets they’re being recorded. We did another workshop in another neighbourhood and only seniors ended up going, so it was pretty interesting. In that one, there was a woman on crutches. She was a bit large, on crutches. Then there’s a pint in which we can only hear her breathing. Heavy breathing. And she also sings and stuff, whistles. And people come up to talk. “What are you doing?” I thought that was very cool. Allowing conversation was another thing we experimented with…
This is a refreshing idea on sound walks and sound mapping. Typically you have to be silent. It’s super intriguing to embrace noise and interaction when recording.