Oscar Alvarez – Sound Arts Year 2

In a discussion regarding spacialisation with a friend, I was introduced to “Structure and Synthesis” by Mark Fell.

Once I had returned home, I immediately began reading through Fell’s half-workbook, half-manifesto online and was captivated by both his remarkably useful practical advice and his provocative criticisms of modern experimental practices – particularly (and here, most relevantly) his thoughts on surround sound systems.

Fell claims that spacialisation is ‘never about self loss (immersion)’ but rather a sense of the ‘lost self’ as the listener is sent on an endless search for a ‘sweet spot’ within the environment as they attempt to position themselves in response to sonic materials that never confidently fit into place.

Upon reading this, I felt myself re-evaluating my entire methodology regarding surround sound.

Beforehand, what I had considered my primary focus was to compose and spacialise with the sole intention of total listener immersion, to establish an atmosphere that one could slip into and exist in for a short duration – with my ‘ghost melody’ concept acting as a vehicle for the submergence into the sound world. nn

However, Fell’s notion of an ‘endless search’ felt like a more apt description of the description I had made in my original graphic score , half-perceived musicality that dissipates across the space, inviting the listener into ‘chasing’ the melodies.

After the session, I had booked a three hour session in the M108 Performance Lab. My goal here was to compile my stems into my previously made spacialised template in ProTools.

Hearing my work, of which I had only previously heard on small home studio speakers, applied to the surround-sound format was an immediately moving experience. Before I had even delved into the GRM plugins, the various drones and chime-like melodies seemed to adopt an entirely new richer, expansive quality – I was glad that at the very least, my choice of sonic palette translated well from my small , echo-prone studio flat to the high-end setup of the Performance Lab.

In the same way as my initial compositional method, I began working with the drone material first. As the foundation of the piece, I knew that movement around the space should be kept minimal, that a firm and established presence should be essential. To test this theory , I sent these drones through GRM Spaces to circle around the room with noticeable movement. The result was jarring and uneasy, the firmly defined ‘base’ that the drones provided seemed to lose their density as they hurtled around the space, as though they had become ‘stretched thin’, like the sinews of overpulled clay.

Yet, as I slowed the movement of the drones (each operating at different directions clockwise and anti-clockwise) to a more subtle, almost imperceivable crawl, a densely layered, hypnotic effect was achieved. The movement of the drones sonic character itself was slow, but not necessarily still; in matching this characteristic to a similarly paced spacialised effect the result was beautifully rich and dense – far so than if I had kept the drones unmoved. I imagined the drones as lapping ocean waves caught into a whirlpool and slowed to a near standstill – engulfing me inside its vortex. The sound was vast, consuming, yet never imposing or overwhelming.

From this discovery, my attitude toward my initial concept began to develop. Hearing my piece beginning to form in this space seemed to enhance my inspirations. I decided that while I wanted to explore my central idea of ‘ghost melodies’ – ideas of subtle flux, beauty and tranquillity formed in the midst of this ‘whirlpool’ wall of sound began to emerge.

When it came to spacialising the acoustic guitar and chime-like elements of the track, I again listened for the actual movement of the sound sources, this time sharp, and sporadic – and moved it around the room accordingly, letting small phrases and melodies play out at in one speaker before jolting across the room. By never letting one speaker hold the attention of a specific melody or instrument for too long, I felt as though I furthered my concept of ‘ghost melodies’ as the notes and motifs fleeted across the room, almost inviting me to try to trace their patterns.

Despite this success, I felt that there was a need to include just one more slight textural element in order to fully realise the soundscape. I decided to record that in the same evening.

Acoustic Principles in Multi-Channel Installation & Performance part 2.

In this session, I workshopped production skills for binaural recording – a format I have long neglected to consider. In my ignorance, I had often disregarded binaural production as too similar to typical stereo sound to be of any creative merit, yet upon experimenting with the DearVR plugin this perspective was entirely changed.

With the faintest adjustment of a field recordings simulated location, (particularly the Y-Axis as this truly felt like a departure from the usual stereo format) I noticed that the sonic characteristics of the sound source were able to develop in incredibly unique ways, ripe for creative exploration. I began to recall my own previous works, and how I may translate them into a binaural setting – the possibilities that it provided to enhance my projects of which are already so fixated on the idea of place, time and atmosphere.

While I knew I wouldn’t pursue a binaural work for my assessment, the (frustratingly simple) revelation of the ‘power of the Y-Axis’ was something I became endeavoured to integrate into my multichannel piece.

Returning to my home studio, I had a clear sonic character firmly set in place.

Using my usual method of processed electric guitar, I created three interlocking drones – still, yet with the faintest perceivable motion, with the hope that it may gently draw and hold the listeners attention into a transient state that allows for both passive and deep listening. I ensured that during these dense drones, moments of ‘cleaner’ guitar notes would ring out – eluding to my concept of ‘ghost melodies’.

With the bed of drones establishing a sense of key and cohesion, I began to source sounds that would compliment the overall soundscape. I knew that firstly, I wanted something that would weave itself in and out of the wall of sound – alluding to an ambiguous outline of melody. Furthermore , I felt that the sound source should possess an acoustic quality ( from my experience listening to surround sound examples in class, acoustic timbre in spacialisation sounded incredibly effective) yet remain unidentifiable as to what instrument it is.

I decided to record some brief improvisations on a rain drum, I felt the drums sound existed somewhere between a bell and a chime – it was soft, droning and perfectly ambiguous.

I then processed this sound through granular synthesis, letting the notes stumble and fall into clumsy half-melodies and sporadic motifs. Within the granular software, adjustments to the rain drum’s attack, decay and pitch also transformed the instrument into a blurry, unrecognisable sound source. Having repurposed the rain drum in this way, I began running it through a cassette emulator in order to obscure the sound further, emphasising its ‘allusive’ quality by means of allowing for drop-outs and fluttering.

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For my assignment, I have chosen to work with Koreeda Hirokazu’s 2023 film – 怪物 (Monster).

I chose this film, perhaps selfishly, as it holds a poignant memory for me. During the last two years, I have been sporadically studying Japanese in order to communicate with my partner’s family better, and Monster was one of the first Japanese language films I had seen without subtitles that clicked for me. Beyond this, the films themes of innocence, nostalgia and childhood, coupled with hazy, beautiful vistas of south-of-nowhere countryside capture a similar sentiment my own personal work attempts to achieve.

The film follows Saori, worried when her son Minato begins exhibiting strange behaviours. He comes home with injuries, cuts his hair, and speaks in a cryptic manner that suggests something is occurring at school. She believes Minato’s teacher is responsible. In a three-act structure, the film retells the same events from the perspectives of the Saori, the teacher, and finally Minato himself – the narratives blending.

In approaching the sound design, I’d like mirror the ambiguous nature of the narrative, using equally as obscured sounds and ambience. I also intend to incorporate vague, incomplete hints towards motif, as the individual perspectives and narratives of the film repeat and intertwine, yet never quite match.

In this session I explored the GRM Spaces plugin within 8 channel fully for the first time. By developing an understanding of the various spacial parameters of the software, the aesthetic possibilities of the sound system’s format became apparent – as well as the practical challenges I may face.

Following this, I began to consider the kind of sound I want to create and how and where these elements will exist in a physical space. From the examples of surround sound pieces I have heard so far, I feel that I will keep any larger, drone-like material to the outside of the room, vast and encompassing. Closer to the listener, I would like smaller, fragmented elements that would occasionally scatter around the environment. I feel these fragmented elements should also have an acoustic quality to them. Smaller, sporadic acoustic sounds (particularly the voice and wind instruments I have noticed) seem to be incredibly effective when played intermittently.

In a way, I imagine the layers of sound and its moving parts as though they were similar to an atomic model – rings of sound shells, with smaller acoustic elements caught in their orbit, swirling and brimming with energy against the slower, firm waves of drone.

While considering this cyclical structure of sound, I was reminded of an artists work , ASUNA’s site-specific installation, 100 Keyboards, of whom I am continually inspired by:

While not covering any near as many dimensions as a surround sound format, the deliberate placing of keyboards in a circular format positions the listener inside the sound source. Here, an acoustic sound field is produced through a “weaving a textile pattern” , meaning that as a listener moves they encounter different, varying points in the circle. Because of this, each audience member interacts with the exhibit in their own way (the installation also invites listeners to lie down). This sense of audience participation, and of creating an experience unique to each visitor is something I would like to pursue in my upcoming work.

Next, I need to consider the relationship between frequency and where they are best placed in the surround sound format.

In this session I listened to examples of compositions designed for a spacialisation setting and began thinking about sound in relation to the X, Y and Z axes. I also considered speaker placement and the way in which quieter or louder instances within the space can emerge as both a source of inspiration and a challenge to consider, such as “dead spaces”.

My score for the upcoming Multi-Channel Playback.

As described in the image, I intend for the installation to possess a hazy quality in which (dependant on ones position within the space) certain ‘ghost notes’ or ‘ghost melodies’ may appear to be perceived – as though one were attempting to recall the sounds of half-forgotten memory. By scattering the music across a physical space, perhaps the listener could be tempted into an attempt to trace the sounds trajectory.

William Basinski’s ‘Disintegration Loops’ and the ambient-drone music of Chihei Hatekeyama are primary sources for my sonic palette- vast swathes of rich, foggy sound, containing the faintest traces of melody. As a foundational idea, I intend for the piece to possess a tangible sense of musicality – very much in the same way in which Hatekeyema’s drones are interwoven with motif and melody.

This session was my first encounter with a sound system larger than stereo, and upon hearing examples composed for multiple channels, I was immediately filled with inspiration about how I could adapt and convert my current sound into something with much more ‘physicality’. I felt myself engaging with the sound in a way I had never previously done. By tracing the movement of the sound across the space, I had become fully immersed into the work. This sense of physicality and movement is something I would like to consider when creating my upcoming work.

As a long time fan of his work, I began to research the various sound installation works of Viennese musician Fennesz. The particular piece I have included in this post is ‘The Last Days of May’ in which he describes the intent of the music within the installation space as “meant to blend into everyday soundscapes and occasionally stand out”.

This reflects my own personal philosophy in my own practice, in addition to approaching this upcoming work – one of rich yet unintrusive sound, cohesively residing alongside whatever audio may occur in its vicinity as though it were an improvisational flair. I am beginning to consider my aforementioned interest in the physicality of spacialised audio, and how this may interact with a subtle, blended soundscape.