Griffintown

I really enjoyed the Griffintown sound walk. It was interesting and informative and well formatted. It also surprised me in many ways. Since I did the walk in the late afternoon through to the early evening, I didn't think that I would be able to hear many isolated or ambient sounds. However, every time I stopped during the walk to listen, both when I was instructed to and of my own accord, I found my ears picking up a large range of noises. Of course there was noise from the cars and trucks going by, and the trains coming in and out of the station. But there were other softer noises that seemed to be crisper and clearer in the neighbourhood. The sound of the wind rustling the trees and going down the streets, the sound of my footsteps on the pavement, these sounds became suddenly more prominent.

I didn’t realize before how much noise other people make when you walk by them. You always hear snippets of their conversation, their breathing or the sounds their clothes and shoes make as they walk. I only encountered three other people on this walk, two elderly women and one man walking alone in the other direction. Their ‘people sounds’ caught me off guard since my ears had become accustom to hearing the noises made by the buildings. This might sound a bit odd, but I realized that buildings DO make noise; it’s just very subtle. I was able to pick out the creaking of the walls and the whistling of the wind around the doors, and that these sounds were more obvious in some buildings than others.

At certain points in the walk, I found myself getting so involved in the walk that there were times when I wasn’t able to distinguish what I was hearing in real life and what I was hearing from the recording. There were several points during the walk where I half-expected the people who were talking in the recording to show up and for the events to actually start happening. This occurred during two parts in particular: when the residents were describing the plane crash and when I was sitting the remains of the church. For the plane crash, the whole time I was staring at the courtyard behind the student residence building and imaging what it must have looked like when the plane actually crashed into the ground and burst into flames. I was saw something similar happen to a car that had rolled into a ditch and the image has stuck with me every since, so I kept reliving that accident while I listened to the narration.

During the story about St. Anne’s church, I began to feel very sad and a bit melancholy. I’ve never been a regular churchgoer, but I’ve always loved being in churches and admiring them. Although the neighbourhood had begun to collapse a decade before, it felt that it was really when the church was gone that Griffintown really became extinct. It made me sad to think of all the people who had lost all their cultural and historical memory because it had been attached to the church. It also made me realize the importance of those communal meeting places in my own neighbourhood and how vital a role they played in my upbringing. It was both sad and inspiring to see what has become and Griffintown and I really appreciated what Lisa has done with this soundwalk.

Density and Clarity in "The Wizard of Oz"

I found Walter Murch's article to be really fascinating. I had never really thought that much about the sound design in films, it was usually just something that I took for granted. I guess that means that the sound was well designed! In another one of my courses, I read a brief article about different aspects of film (plot, story, etc) and as well as some of the vocabulary that accompanied it. The words that concepts from that class that stuck out for me while I was reading this article were the idea of 'diegetic' and 'non-diegetic' sounds. That is, sounds that are happeneing in the "world" of the movie and sounds that add to the mood or enhance the theme of the scene or movie. These terms turned out to be very helpful to me while I was analyzing "The Wizard of Oz" using Walter Murch's theory of Density and Clarity.

Thes scene I decided to use takes place near the beginning of the film, when the twister is just starting to flare up and Dorothy get hit on the head. Animals and people are running around the farm: it's pure chaos. Using Murch's spectrum of sound, the viewer/listener is able to pick out the several layers taking place during the scene. The sounds can be broken down generally like this:

1) One layer of "violet" dialogue: Dorothy, Auntie Em, Miss Scott
2) One layer of "red" music: "Dream sequence" music
3) One layer of "cool" (linguistic) effects: Trees breaking, glass breaking, Toto barking
4) One layer of "warm" (musical) effects: The Wicked Witch's theme song
5) One layer of "yellow" (equally balanced ‘centaur') effects: The Twister

Although it was made before his time, I believe that this scene applies Murch's theory of Density and Clarity. Like the analogy he uses for "Apocalypse Now", the sound is this scene is built much like a sandwich. The layers are added on one at a time and build slowly and almost imperceptably. Yet, no sound is ever noticably sacrificed at the expense of the "experience" of the scene. Dorothy and Auntie Em's shouts compete with the howling wind until Dorothy goes inside the house. Her voice remains dominant even after the window breaks. The Twister sounds, which have been building gradually suddenly come to a point as Dorothy watches the workd go by her window. The Twister sounds also blend with the "dream sequence" music and the theme song of the wicked witch of the west so that even if you close your eyes, you are still able to follow what Dorothy is seeing.

The volume of the sounds vary according to the environment and the introduction of new information. The Twister is the constant background sound, while the "dream sequence" music, Dorothy's voice and the Wicked Witch's theme song harmonize and contrast with this base, while still following the narrative. Therefore, like the anaolgy of the symphony, all the layers of sound are coordinated to enhance the mood and the plot of the scene, while also giving the viewer auditory clues as to the focal point of the scene.

As I said earlier, this article helped me to discover the complexity of sound design in cinema and also the importance of the different 'soundtracks' that are simultaneously happening in sync with the sound. I hope that this knowledge will help me to get a deeper appreciation of the choreographing of film-making and to make watching movies a more multi-sensory experience.

My Favourite Sounds

This assignment was much trickier than I thought it was going to be. I had no problem whatsoever coming up with my favourite smells or textures, but my favourite sounds alluded me. Apart from a large number of songs, here is what I was able to come with more specifically.

Bonfires
I love pretty much everything about bonfires: the smell, the sight, the sound, the warmth. There is something about being around a bonfire that is completely relaxing. In the same way that you can stare into a fire and see many different colours, I find that there are many sounds hidden in a bonfire as well. First of all, there's the rippling, low roar of the fire itself, which is interuppted every so often by the pop and snap of branches. There is the snizzle of wet wood and the hiss of sticks that are burning out. These sounds all layer together in a kind of symphony that is both perfect background and foreground noise .

Skateboard
I think that my love of this sound is based on the remains of my an old schoolgirl fantasy. Skateboarders were always so daring and rebellious, and never failed to make my 16-year-old heart flutter. Although there are many wheels in the city, skateboard wheels have the most distinct sound of the lot. I love the raspy, gritty sound of the wheels and how the sound changes slightly from the sidewalk to the road. I really like the way that you can actually hear the shape of city. All the bumps, dips and cracks in the road or the pavement as the wheels roll over them. The sound of a skateboard is always distinguishable through the hum of the city, and it never fails to turn my head...guess I'm not quite over that crush.

Trains
Since I moved to Montreal to go to school, a large part of my life has been spent on trains travelling to and from Toronto. This is lucky since trains have always been my favourite way to travel: none of the stress of traffic and all the comfort of an airplane without the hassle of security. Again, like the bonfire, this is a layered sound. The smooth, quiet hum of the engine is a nice contrast to the syncopated chug-a-chug-a of the wheels on the tracks. The rythm of these sounds is almost hypnotizing when they blend together. The spell is only broken every soo often by the deep, distant "whooooooot whoooooooooooot" of the horn. It's as if someone is brushing the insides of my ears very gently with a paintbrush. I can't wait until Thanksgiving!

Scissors cutting into Construction Paper
I admit this might sound like a bit of an odd choice, but bear with me. I'm talking about the 'crunch/slice' noise that the scissors make as they cut through the paper. To me, that is exactly what a new beginning should sound like. I love the way that a big cut makes a totally different noise than a small snip. There is something so satisyfing about the sound of a cut into a piece of paper; something very clear and sharp. it sends a shiver down my spine.

My Mother's voice
This is probably my favourite one. It is calming, soothing and familiar. It can put me at ease or cheer me up. It is quiet, strong and lilting from her British accent. It immediately transports me to a place of comfort and safety. It sounds like how a cup of tea feels: warm, filling and sweet. I could pick it out of a crowd anywhere. When I hear it, I know everything is going to be alright.