There’s been a lot of thumping going on in the apartment above mine tonight. And the occasional incomprehensible sound of voices muffled by the layers of dry wall and carpet. My apartment tends to be pretty quiet at night, but there seems to be more activity tonight than normal. Other than the thumping, the only other sound I’m hearing right now is my clock (yes, I still have an analog clock) ticking away, reminding me that I must get a response paper (for a different class than this one) in before I sleep tonight. Even my fridge is quiet.
Author Archives: Cynthia Wang
Ihde Response…addition
I have an addendum to my response to “In Praise of Sound.” At the end of the piece, Ihde mentions that there has been a “suspicion of the voice, particularly the sonorous voice.” (pg. 14) There seems to be a fear of sound undermining the reason and rationale of the visual. The timbre of sound has the ability to go beyond the mere words of the speaker and convey much more than the mere words – it conveys emotion, it galvanizes the masses. Being Martin Luther King Jr Day earlier this week, I heard two old MLK speeches. It was not the words he said, although those were powerful as well, but his passion within his voice, and the sound of the crowd cheering along with him that drives the message home. Arguments have been made that point to Obama’s baritone when he orates to be the factor that draws people in, conveying his message more readily than if his voice did not sound as such (http://www.salon.com/news/opinion/feature/2008/02/28/obama_clinton_voices). Likewise, good sound in a film will go largely unnoticed, helping buoy the audience up in inspirational and happy moments, while providing a space for melancholy when the story calls for it. Bad sound, on the other hand, will ruin even the most beautiful visual composition in a movie. So is sound a powerful force in guiding and nudging how people think? Absolutely. What can be dangerous about sound is because it is linked so closely to our emotional states, it possibly overrides rationalization or cognitive thinking in epistemological processes, handing the reins over for people to base decisions and actions on their emotions, creating social and conditioned norms that the Powers That Be that wield the sound we hear can later exploit and control.
Response to Don Ihde’s "In Praise of Sound"
Don Ihde’s chapter, “In Praise of Sound,” provides a comprehensible outline of visuality’s domination over sound in the gathering of knowledge and information, and the proclamation of truth in Western culture since the ancient Greeks. Ihde efficiently summarizes the arguments for obtaining truth and knowledge through the senses, weaving an enjoyable story reaching back to the ancient Greek philosophers and making the reader think about something as “natural-feeling” as using vision in order to ascertain information as a socially constructed way of viewing the world. The tension between a reduction to vision and a reduction of vision is an interesting one. After all, seeing is believing, but people see/sense differently. Just biologically, someone could be near-sighted, far-sighted, blind, colorblind, have cataracts, or any of the other numerous ways that differentiate how different individuals perceive the world through sight, sound, or the other senses. The arguments Ihde highlighted and presented in the piece insightfully laid out the different positions and progressions between the two philosophies, even touching on the fact that modern metaphysics remained cynical to the senses, instead relying on reason, the unsensed, that transcends the senses. Following this argument, how Ihde would reconcile the idea of relying on the unseen with the existence of God. Science and religion has frequently been at odds with each other in the modern age, starting with Galileo and Copernicus coming down on the bad side of the Church by espousing their scientific findings (even though that was not their intention). Even in today, we so quickly accept science as truth and remain cynical of religion and faith. In this case, both science and faith (or God) are relatively unseen. How many of us have physically seen the composition of a hydrogen molecule, an electron, or a neutrino? How many of us have seen, with a naked eye, a black hole? And yet, science tells us they exist. Is this not the same as believing in an unseen superior being?
Ihde states that “by living with electronic instruments our experience of listening itself is being transformed, and included in this transformation are the ideas we have about the world and ourselves.” (pg. 5) Indeed, placing it in context of technological advancements and the way the visual and the aural have been intertwined with each other (and with other senses, although Ihde did not travel as much down that path). After all, it is through technological advancements that we are able to record and reproduce aural signals. Prior to the phonograph, the only way information and knowledge was recorded was through the written. Take a look at music. In order for music to have been passed through time and space, it needed to be written down. We will never know exactly how the Turkish March sounded when Mozart played it, because Mozart’s life predates the phonograph. But we have the Turkish March as a visual representation of the aural, and we are able to (at least technically) replicate Mozart’s intention for how a song should sound.
Ironically, in today’s electronic and recording heavy world, we have lost the practice of putting songs into the symbol of the musical language. We have lead sheets and chords and tabs for pop songs today, yet there are rarely written musical notations readily available to the public to reproduce exactly how a song like Britney Spears’ “Oops, I Did It Again” was played on the album. Instead, electronic technology has enabled audio editing in order for a performance to be created piecemeal, then pieced together to create one composite and seemingly singular auditory experience.
The history of the visual as a modality for information is longer than that for audio. The written allows information to be passed through time and space, the aural exists in the now and is temporally bound. Even today, we ask that important information be put “on paper” so it can be referenced at a future date, or at a different location. The visual becomes equated with evidence, with truth. However, as technology has advanced to give us sound recording, and ways to analyze the sound recordings, aural signals have slowly started becoming a basis for evidence. New details in Robert F. Kennedy’s shooting came to light through an analysis of a sound recording taken the day of his assassination (). Here, sound is the key player in uncovering the “truth.” But this would not have been possible before the advent of sound recording.
Ihde closes his argument eloquently by stating that the examination of sound is not to replace the visual with the aural, but to “move toward a radically different understanding of experience, one which has its roots in a phenomenology of auditory experience.” (pg. 15) This leads me to question, though, if there is a push for the understanding of experience rooted in the phenomenology of the aural because of the visual’s domination in the way our society comes to knowledge. Can we ever talk about sound without reference to the visual because the visual has been dominant? Is it like trying to talk about race without reference to white superiority, or queer studies without bearing in mind the reality of heteronormativity?
Flabbergasted
I just spent the better part of three hours in the car listening to country music – Go Country (KKGO 105.1) and KHAY (100.7)…I know, I know, keep your snide comments to yourself for now. But, this is what is flabbergasting.
On my way from LA to Thousand Oaks (my hometown), I listened to KKGO, then KHAY once KKGO got too staticky. I heard ONE woman singer, singing the worst song ever (Carrie Underwood’s Mama’s Song – Carrie, you disappoint me. A lot. That song is awful. What were you thinking?!). On the way back, I listened only to KKGO, which was doing commercial-free Mondays (jarring in and of itself to hear country music with no commercials), and went thru about 9 or 10 songs all sung by a male singer, until I finally got another Carrie Underwood song (All-American Girl), followed by 6 more songs by male singers before I reached home and had to get out of the car because these stats were depressing me to much. On the way back, I was in the car for close to an hour, listening to the same radio station.
Yes, ladies and gents — two hours worth of music, and only TWO female singers were aired the entire time. Granted, I did get out of the car at a couple points, and changed stations, so I suppose female singer songs MIGHT have come on the station I wasn’t listening to, but I think that still makes a point in that randomly switching channels will also get similar results – that if you’re listening to country music, you’re most likely listening to a male singer. A white male singer (I’m not going to even get into THAT)…
I’m no gender studies/feminist theory person, but even I know there’s something…not quite…right…about this…
Sounds at Disneyland – Club 33, Aurally
I’ve been thinking about the project I would like to do for my Audio Cultures class…and I think I might want to examine a section of Disneyland (although I still need to run this by my professor first). So, I was at Disneyland today, looking at some of the different areas that might be interesting for such a study. I’ve narrowed it down to somewhere along Main Street (where, when we were there, playing something from the Music Man, metaphorically welcoming visitors to Disneyland into middle America — I’ll find the song later), or right in front of the Sleeping Beauty Castle. I suspect sounds in those spots would be interesting because of just how many people are around in those areas, figuring out where to go, traversing through, not to mention how Disneyland cast members clear Main Street before each parade, and during the fireworks display, people are standing out on the streets, but few are walking around. So, interesting. But not urban, so not sure my prof will go for it. We shall see (and plus, he’s reading this, as part of the class assignment is blogging).
Josh (my prof for this class) talked in class last week about how silence and class are closely interconnected. The “higher” class/wealthier a community, the quieter the area tends to be. My friends and I had the privilege of eating dinner at Club 33 tonight – a secret dinner club located in New Orleans Square. Right next to the Blue Bayou, there is an unmarked door with an intercom. If you have a reservation, you ring the bell, and someone answers on the intercom. You give this someone the reservation name, and they let you in through the door.
Our reservations tonight were for 9pm — right as the Disney water show, Fantasmic, was starting just across the way. It was very loud – not to mention that a group of people were gathered around Blue Bayou to wait for seats. So when we rang the bell, we could not hear an answer. Finally, we made our way into Club 33 as others were leaving.
The difference between the outside and the inside of the club was drastic. It was completely silent in the club once the door closed. Ok, not completely silent, but one could hardly make out the cacophony outside. We were then taken upstairs, where the main dining room is located. It has, I think, some of the more unique acoustics I’ve ever encountered. And I’m not sure how they do it. It felt very quiet. I’m not sure if it was because the room looked so austere, or because people were talking in hushed tones, but there was a weighty sense in the air, and a quietness that was nice, if not a bit unnerving.
We were seated at a round table, which concerned me, because I did not fancy raising my voice to speak to my dinner companions. However, we soon realized that we could speak relatively quietly to each other, yet still hear each other perfectly. Perhaps it is because the atmosphere was such that hushed voices were used at the other tables, and the ambient sound was low, so all verbal cues were easily picked up. What is striking, though, is that once you’re positioned in that space, you interpolate yourself into the mannerisms that the space requires. We didn’t speak loudly, because it seemed improper. Which really follows the manners of high class culture, where speaking softly and with reserve indicates someone who is more highly educated and mannered than someone who speaks loudly and abrasively with no concern for their neighbors’ comforts.
During dinner, we also enjoyed the music and sounds of Fantasmic, which had started outside, that penetrated the silence and added a nice touch to the soundscape for the evening, yet seemed intrusive to the mellow silence that existed before. The entertainment, presumably, were for those who could not get reservations to Club 33. So here, again, we see a built-in class difference, with the “lower” classes’ sounds penetrating the “upper” classes’ silence. I should make a disclaimer that I use these terms “higher,” “upper,” “lower” loosely to reductively talk about sound and silence. I am not saying that because were able to get reservations to Club 33 that we are in any way in the “upper” class of Disney society (we are most decidedly NOT). I simply use it as a metaphor to talk about the positions in which we found ourselves this evening possibly in a way Disney intended – a space in which the rich, elite Disneyland connoisseurs gathered (Club 33), versus the space of the lower to middle Americans who came for a day of enjoyment (the park itself). It is a deliberate, constructed separation that I use simply to talk about how people are interpolated into spaces, rather than the classiness of the people themselves. Goodness, I hope that made sense…
During dinner, we also enjoyed the music and sounds of Fantasmic, which had started outside, that penetrated the silence and added a nice touch to the soundscape for the evening, yet seemed intrusive to the mellow silence that existed before. The entertainment, presumably, were for those who could not get reservations to Club 33. So here, again, we see a built-in class difference, with the “lower” classes’ sounds penetrating the “upper” classes’ silence. I should make a disclaimer that I use these terms “higher,” “upper,” “lower” loosely to reductively talk about sound and silence. I am not saying that because were able to get reservations to Club 33 that we are in any way in the “upper” class of Disney society (we are most decidedly NOT). I simply use it as a metaphor to talk about the positions in which we found ourselves this evening possibly in a way Disney intended – a space in which the rich, elite Disneyland connoisseurs gathered (Club 33), versus the space of the lower to middle Americans who came for a day of enjoyment (the park itself). It is a deliberate, constructed separation that I use simply to talk about how people are interpolated into spaces, rather than the classiness of the people themselves. Goodness, I hope that made sense…
Driving the wrong way
On the way home tonight, I caught the second and third movements of Pinchas Zukerman playing (and conducting!) Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in Costa Mesa on KUSC. And I drove myself 2 miles out of the way in order to finish listening to the piece. Because it was broadcast live (I think…maybe time of day has something to do with radio quality), there was a good amount of static, but it was still great.
Which gets me thinking about classical music. I was supposed to go to an LA Phil concert tonight – Dudamel conducting Mahler’s 9th—which, BTW, apart from Beethoven and Schubert, is not the only 9th symphony after which the composer died, as the LA Phil seems to insinuate in this posting (http://www.laphil.com/tickets/performance-detail.cfm?id=4374) — Dvorak also only composed 9 symphonies. But we ended up not able to get rush tickets because the concert was sold out (really?? Mahler’s 9th?) Anyway. In other news, I was listening to the country radio station, and realized the proportion of men to women singers is like, 9:1 or something ridiculous. There were 6 songs in a row that were all male singers. Hrm. And country music does all sound the same. In Hong Kong, a Taylor Swift song came on in a restaurant, and even though I had never heard the song before, I knew it was Taylor Swift. Because the music sounded like her other stuff. I also had brunch in the loudest restaurant ever. Talk about sound pollution. This was at the Griddle in Hollywood – fantastic place that serves much larger dishes than is absolutely necessary for mid-day caloric intake. My friend and I were positively screaming across the table at each other. In other news, I’ve been obsessed with this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZZSsHQmz0E (Mads Langer: Fact-Fiction) Heard it on Castle Season 2.
Which gets me thinking about classical music. I was supposed to go to an LA Phil concert tonight – Dudamel conducting Mahler’s 9th—which, BTW, apart from Beethoven and Schubert, is not the only 9th symphony after which the composer died, as the LA Phil seems to insinuate in this posting (http://www.laphil.com/tickets/performance-detail.cfm?id=4374) — Dvorak also only composed 9 symphonies. But we ended up not able to get rush tickets because the concert was sold out (really?? Mahler’s 9th?) Anyway. In other news, I was listening to the country radio station, and realized the proportion of men to women singers is like, 9:1 or something ridiculous. There were 6 songs in a row that were all male singers. Hrm. And country music does all sound the same. In Hong Kong, a Taylor Swift song came on in a restaurant, and even though I had never heard the song before, I knew it was Taylor Swift. Because the music sounded like her other stuff. I also had brunch in the loudest restaurant ever. Talk about sound pollution. This was at the Griddle in Hollywood – fantastic place that serves much larger dishes than is absolutely necessary for mid-day caloric intake. My friend and I were positively screaming across the table at each other. In other news, I’ve been obsessed with this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZZSsHQmz0E (Mads Langer: Fact-Fiction) Heard it on Castle Season 2.
Testing Posterous
I’m taking Josh Kun’s class this semester, and we’re told to blog a lot a lot. I’m also linking this post to my main blog page, and fear that if I post something every day, my friends on Facebook and Twitter might completely disown me.
Josh’s class is a sound studies/pop music culture class. We had our first (short) class today, after reading James Joyce’s “The Dead” (which I had never read before), but thought it was very interesting to see how the audio becomes translated into the written when audio recording or other portrayals of the audio were not possible during Joyce’s time.
In other news, my fridge is humming and my stomach is growling. The humming of the fridge, though, blocks out most other sounds. And as quiet as my apartment gets at night, I’m often reminded of how close I live to a busy street when sirens go screaming by late at night.
Oh, another quick thing I’ve noticed. Classical KUSC played Dvorak’s Carnival Overture on the radio the other day. I’m sure I can look this up, but I think they adjust the volume during to make sure that the levels are high enough so one can hear the music in the car. Because when I play my version of Carnival Overture on my iPhone or computer, the pianissimos can barely be heard, and if you turn up your volume during those time, the fortes and the fortissimos that come later blow out your eardrums. So, this is my suspicion that the radio station messes with the volume as they play a piece, but I’m not sure. Of course, we all know that radio dead air time is, well, deadly.
On Chinese Mothers (the now-infamous WSJ post)
Edit: I can’t speak to what Chua intended to write, but I do place responsibility on WSJ for being the publishing institution that allowed it to become public, and for allowing it to be framed in this way. The title makes me sick because it does two things – it reaffirms the stereotype, while reinforcing the constructed differences between races and cultures. It also undermines the Chinese Mothers “superiority” (really, the non-American superiority it purportedly lauds) because by placing it as the title, it invites the reader to take part in the spectacle of the “Chinese mother,” treating her as an “object,” and reinforces the fact that America is really not intimidated by “Chinese Mothers” (extrapolated to include all “Others”) because of an ingrained sense of white hegemony and superiority.
I think the only possible illuminating thing to come from it, as I said, is to question why we think “self-esteem” and “doing your best” and “being special” has become par for the course for our child-raising culture, and to ruminate on how detrimental it can be to society (see Jean Twenge’s “Generation Me”) and America’s standing in global competition.
Edit: From George Wang (this was originally a comment on my post on Facebook):
“Hear it from Chua herself – this is all on WSJ and their white lust for Asian female stereo-typing.
“As far as child-rearing goes, they absolutely …should be pushed to be their best. Our culture routinely coddles kids too mich these days, producing lazy, incompetent, entitled whining citizens. We desperately need good old fashioned discipline, and personal responsibility and personal accountability.“
Angry Mommy!!
My mom got very very addicted to Angry Birds this holiday season. After she finished all the levels, I downloaded the Seasons version for her (the one with the Halloween and the Christmas versions). I got this email from her today:
From: Jenny Wang
Subject: Angry mommy!!
Date: January 7, 2011 10:08:11 PM PST
To: Kenneth Wang, Cynthia Wang
For 3 days… I have not been able to get through level 3-5 of the holiday- Halloween. >:O
Mama
On pain (again)
I don’t get why people who have mild to moderate physical pain – like, twisted joint, pulled muscle, pained back – take pain medication (I get it for when the pain is so bad you can barely stand it and are, essentially, immobilized – I’m not talking about that). Because…wouldn’t you want to feel the pain when you do something so you know not to do it anymore?
(BTW, I had posted a blog about pain last summer, when I pulled a muscle in my…ahem…groin… You can read about it here, if you so feel inclined.)
Oh, why did this come up? A) I sort of want the cane I spoke about last summer because B) something happened to my lower back. I think I hurt it. Cuz it hurts.
Cynthia Wang 