Noise or Sound?
Oyola, Osvaldo. “Living with Noise.” 2013.
Oyola addresses “the anonymous intimacy of city living,” equating noise with the overheard emotional outbursts of teenage neighbors, while sound is associated with trains’ “soothing...rhythm of the clacking rails.”
Russolo, Luigi. The Art of Noise. 1913.
“Nowadays musical art aims at the shrillest, strangest and most dissonant amalgams of sound. Thus we are approaching noise-sound.”
Serres, Michel. Genesis. 1982.
"Background noise may well be the ground of our being. It may be that our being is not at rest, it may be that it is not in motion, it may be that our being is disturbed” (93-94).
Generation Anthropocene. “The Soundtracker.” 2015.
“When I truly listen, I disappear.”
This piece is a self-conducted interview by Gordon Hempton, also known as the Soundtracker. Over the last thirty years, Hempton has traveled around the world (three times) recording sounds. Now, as he faces rapid hearing loss, he reflects on the difference between sound and noise. The former, according to Hempton, assists the conveyance of meaningful information, while the latter disrupts it.
“When I listen,” says Hempton, “I have to be quiet. I cannot listen for something. I just take every sound in with equal value.” Hempton speaks about listening in terms of centuries, observing that noise pollution from trains, traffic, machinery, and airplanes actively interrupts the biologically ingrained practice of passive listening in order to receive information about our surroundings. The earth-shaking screech of the train approaching the platform, for example, drowns out the sounds of conversations, footsteps, incoming weather, or the coos of pigeons. Hempton posits that humans’ particular ear for birdsong is an evolutionary adaptation; for our nomadic ancestors, the presence of birdsong may have indicated a hospitable environment. Thus, listening is a kind of “homing in,” a way of locating shelter, sustenance, and self. In Hempton’s view, through our contributions to noise pollution, we inadvertently impair our ability to be at home, to find safety, and to seek comfort.










