I did some research into Heinrich Hertz and read some interesting things about his discovery of the radio wave. In 1886, Hertz became the first person ever to transmit and receive controlled radio waves. Hertz’s research was solely based on aiming to discover if James Clerk Maxwell’s 1864 theory of electromagnetism was correct. Hertz would generate sparks using a piece of electrical equipment called an ‘induction coil’ which led him to discover the production of regular electrical waves, whose behaviour was predictable.
Here’s a small clip highlighting Hertz’s discovery of radio waves:
In today’s lecture, we did an activity that involved us downloading LocusCast, a live streaming phone application for streaming sound only. We each had to broadcast the sounds of our surroundings live and share it with the class. During the other students’ broadcast, I found it quite engrossing to be listening in on their surroundings. I remember a few people mentioning how there was this underlying feeling of intrusiveness and someone even mentioned a “very slight uncomfortableness” when broadcasting their audio. When it came to my turn, I began to understand this. There’s something a little startling about others receiving a broadcast of your personal surroundings; maybe it’s the element of being spied upon, or the idea that something as minuscule as a stomach rumbling will be broadcasted straight to the listeners. Having said this, I did find listening back to my own stream to be quite a fascinating little experience. Listening live, you hear little details that you don’t usually pay attention to, and I noticed that even the overall ambience is more intense. I found this group task to be an interesting one and it’s something I’d possibly like to dabble in in the future.
I came across this video discussing the history of radio. One thing that really struck a chord within me was seeing the first ever commercially released radio in 1910. Further, seeing how exciting it was to tune in and listen to the radio at a time when it was so revolutionary made me realise how momentous the invention of radio is. Looking at it conceptually, I feel that it has such a historically significant place in not only music but live consumption of media.
Just like cinema, radio is classic and I believe will always be around. It’s prestigious. I feel that as time has passed and music streaming has evolved, radio has become somewhat overlooked, especially amongst the younger generation, but I feel like just as the boom in popularity of the classic vinyl record player, radio may one day become hugely popular again.
Today, during the lecture, we were asked to share our thoughts on Radio and give any insight to what it means for us personally. I shared some thoughts and then quietly thought about this for a little while after. I realised that my experience with classic radio is only memories from my childhood. I strongly associate radio with the scene of driving to primary school in the early hours with the morning radio on. I remember the little live games they would play and how I would look forward every morning to hearing it. I also remember the music being an alleviating soundtrack for the journey.
I would often find myself enjoying the idea of not knowing which song will play next. In my generation, it’s rare that we listen to music without a pre-planned idea of what we will listen to, so this is something that sparks some excitement within me. I think one of these mornings I will turn on the radio and relive the riveting childhood experience I once enjoyed.
I did a mini interview with Mr Xiao, the artist behind the piece Whispers in Beijing. The transcript is below:
What are your musical influences?
I guess my influence is very wide ranging. I like to be inspired by western music and world music, as well as music from different countries that incorporates different instruments. My dad is also a big influence on my sound and the work I do. I guess when you grow up in a household while constantly hearing the music someone else plays it kind of influences you on a subconscious level.
Tell me about Whispers in Beijing and your creative process for the track?
For me, inspiration comes from my own life. I was on a phone call with a Chinese friend of mine and we were talking about past relationships and she mentioned a Chinese phrase about not going back to a past relationship. I suggested that she send me a couple voice messages of that phrase. I started with that and put it into Logic. I’m pretty intuitive so one of the first sounds I came across I used, manipulated it and got it to work in the track. I got my dad to play bass. I guess the interesting thing in the bass line is it doesn’t really work with the track. I don’t work with tempo or key so I just reversed it and it worked super well. It created an interesting texture. I guess that’s the thing I’m most proud of; I feel that many other people would have gotten rid of it. I guess it’s true to life. Some things you have to make work.
One thing I was told by another artist, someone who had an exhibition in Tate Britain, was that sometimes when you don’t know how to do something properly it makes you do interesting things. This links to when I reversed the bass. Because I don’t work with tempo or key I had to find a way to make that work.
How do you feel about your audience response?
Well, I don’t think you are owed anything from an audience, especially if you’re giving them a product, they don’t necessarily ask for it. I’ve made films and music and showed it to people and sometimes they surprise me and they love it and have many things to say about it. Others give you short comments and that’s fine too. For me, it’s a form of communication about how I feel. So it’s great when it develops into more, into a deeper connection with someone through your own art. Art does mean a lot to some people.
What’s next for Mr Xiao?
I don’t make music for people to listen to. If they like it they like it. Obviously some will and some won’t, you know. I’m saying this as truth because I know the type of music I make. I’m aware of what music is popular and I know that the people that enjoy my music will be very underground. Fair enough, maybe some of the mainstream have never experienced different ways of hearing, or they don’t want to listen to someone for the art. I have to make what I want to make and then trust that it will connect with someone, somewhere.
Lockdown has been an experience. Nothing seems to be certain or concrete, days have few solid plans and the future is clouded by unsureness. I was inspired to go for a walk and after about an hour of aimlessly walking and rendezvousing in some appreciation of little things, I stumbled upon a little woodland park. I spent some time in that woodland park breathing, imagining and painting melodies in my head. Right after, I came home and was inspired to create this piece. Lately, I’ve been hugely fascinated by the sound of Mbira instruments. The Mbira are a family of musical instruments, consisting of a wooden board with attached staggered metal tines. The timbre is clear and percussive, and there’s something about the almost sweet tone of these instruments that put me in a mellow, almost blissful state. I started with a melody played through a Kalimba and built the song from this alone, implementing different layers evolving around sounds of the Mbira family. For me, the song represents an escapade in a time of unchanging days.
It may have been the alluring shades of pink and purple, or the beautiful side profile shot of the musician, but I came across this piece and something about the artwork captured my attention almost instantaneously. While listening to the piece, I experienced a vast array of feelings. It’s not often I come across a purely instrumental piece that takes me on a journey as much as this piece did. The building up of the traditional Korean string instrument is not only beautiful, but shockingly transcending. After hearing this, I did some research into the artist and discovered that Park Jiha uses no more than three instruments in any one composition. In Accumulation of Time we are predominantly hearing the yanggeum, a metal-stringed hammered dulcimer. To me, each note played possessed a distinct beauty that I had not come across in a while. I found the piece overall to have some powerful cinematic features, although just hearing it with headphones, eyes closed, was in itself a spectacular auditory experience.
This morning, I lay in bed thinking about the relationship between sound and emotion. I thought I’d mesh some of my thoughts into a blogpost.
I wondered what it is about sound that evokes emotion amongst the listener. For me, it is music that often triggers an emotion, however I wondered what particular element of the music brings this about. I naturally assume it is melody, as I’m a bit of a melody-nerd and my favourite songs of all time I love because of the melody above anything else. But what is it about the melody? Is it the structure of chords telling a story? Or the building up of melody forming little segments and then coming to a final conclusion? Or is it the melody eliciting a sense of nostalgia, reminding me of a moment in time that I carry a strong emotional feeling to? I want to pay more attention to the way I feel when listening to music and sound. I want to better my understanding of the relationship between what I hear and the way I feel.
My original sound piece, From Under To Above , is a sonic journey of confusion to clarity. It’s aim is to inspire a captivating story within the imagination of the listener. The art of telling a story through sound and music enthrals me. Lyricism is something that contributes massively to storytelling through sound, but when this is removed a door to the unknown is opened and anything is possible. I created my piece with the intention of setting a moody atmosphere; a place of bizarreness and maybe even uncomfortableness. I enjoy taking the listener on a journey that feels foreign, but in that foreignness comes the excitement. I remember hearing the song Tomorrow Never Knows by The Beatles when I was an early teenager. There was something about the hard left and right panning that instantaneously moved me into a new and compelling atmosphere. The idea of different sounds existing on different sides of your consciousness excites me, and I implemented this into my piece. I also experimented with some modulation plugin effects, including a phaser, a tremolo and a chorus plugin. Playing with sound in this way is something I am somewhat new to and during the process I dealt with some unsureness. I encountered a few hurdles while trying to decide if the effects were taking the piece in the direction I wanted for it, but this uncertainty became the reason I decided to use them – I am learning all the time that unpredictability leads to anticipation and anticipation is entertainment – and I want the listener to be entertained overall. Towards the end we come to a soft closing, a melodic resolution. From Under To Above aims to provide a journey of perplexity, enhanced by the modulation effects and overdriven distortion, to a serene and musical resolution. Towards the end, the debris of distortion is left over but fades slowly into quiet and then we are left with nothing but the story our imagination told us.
During class today, Dr Louise Marshall conducted an exercise where we had to listen to the sound in our current environment. We were instructed to write down some words describing the sound in abstract terms instead of descriptively. Below is what I wrote:
For a moment I’m hearing almost nothing. Then there are little echoes of conversation seeping through the thin line of my window. I feel more at home now as I relate to the cheerfulness. I can hear my breathing. I’m wondering if I’m always hearing it, and the fact that now I’m consciously listening to it. A crackle of some sort. It’s memorable. I replay it in my mind as I hear nothing again. I’m noticing there’s sound in the sound that I called nothing; a constant frequency. It’s steady and feels as if it’s going to a destination while going in no particular direction, but at the same time it’s already arrived.
Looking back on what I wrote, I remember I was having difficulty trying to avoid writing down the obvious description of each sound. I think that exploring sound this way is something I want to do more of in the future.
