Hearing The Front Porch

Photo from EarthPlay Projects
(Cornell University)

The wind chimes on my porch are a conscious effort to avoid silence – when they stop, the world seems to open up into a larger space. I can hear the cars swishing down the street, the bird songs are given prominence, and I hear the thicknesss of the rushing wind and the swirling of the fallen leaves – all actors in my nostalgic scripting of my sonic space….It is the difference between silence and solitude that fascinates me – along with many sound artists and writers…Silence, in reality, can never be accomplished (Cage gave evidence of that). Thoreau pointed out that solitude can be a state of mind. Margaret Fuller let us hear silence through women. As a society, we can silence individuals…and in reality that means not listening to them, not hearing them, ignoring their contributions – and that is essentially what Fuller was concerned with – silenced women in the midst of a vastness of untamed aurality. She sought silence and sound in the solitude of wilderness.

We all have our own personal sound spaces – and these combine to create nostalgic sonic spheres – personal and social (the latter being a sort of sound culture). So just listen. Close your eyes. What do you remember as you hear your surroundings? The sound of a flag pole can trigger powerful memories to many individuals. Can you hear the clanging on the pole? What sounds come to your mind – as you listen in your own personal sonic space? What is your daily soundscape? What are the soundscapes in your life?