Daniel Nerenhausen and Robert Curtis

2 October 2016

Jennifer Fraser

ETHN 212

Urban Soundscape: An Analysis of Concentrated Anthrophonic Sound

When my partner and roommate Rob and I began brainstorming the possible directions of our soundscape study, it was quickly evident that of the three subcategories in which we place sound (biophonic, geophonic, anthrophonic), anthrophonic sound (sound resultant from human activity) interested us the most. On the larger timeline of Earth’s history, anthrophonic sound, particularly in its new mechanized iteration, is a relatively new concept, and the only category of sound with constantly changing composition and (generally increasing) intensity.

 To best analyze anthrophonic sounds, Rob and I decided to record where human sounds are most concentrated and able to emanate into the surrounding environment, urban centers. Initially, we attempted to capture a soundscape of Erieview Plaza, a park in downtown Cleveland we determined would provide an accurate profile of urban sound. 

After recording for two hours of audio in the park, we found, upon listening, that the sonic makeup of the recording was impossible to determine due to the omnipresent combination of construction and traffic noise creating a constant din. This discovery only served to pique our interest in anthrophonic sound. How accustomed and skilled at filtering noise have our urban brains become that keynote sounds as loud as those in Erieview Park go unnoticed by us? Scaling back slightly, Rob and I eventually settled on recording a more accessible downtown less on the extreme of the sonic scale, Oberlin. Due to the large number of foot-bound students, Oberlin has a disproportionately busy “downtown”, in terms of businesses and foot traffic, which aided our analysis by mimicking the sound level of a larger urban center. Our work centered on two recordings taken from the trees on the sidewalk in front of the New Union Center for the Arts on South Main between 12 and 2 AM on Wednesday September 28, and the following day between 12 and 2 PM

The daytime recording was much what we expected, with electromechanical sound from cars, motorcycles, and construction equipment constantly present (the common keynote sound of an urban soundscape). The positioning of our recording device behind a bench on the sidewalk was intentional, as urban sidewalks and sitting areas exist as a sort of sonic microcosm of non- mediated, vocal interactions and a blurring of traditional indoor/private and outdoor/public boundaries. Because of the passing nature of people on sidewalks, “sidewalk talk” can consist of conversations one might normally avoid in a more traditional public arena (ie. restaurants, parks, and common spaces). This allowed us to pick up snippets of some interesting and personal conversations, and even a whole conversation of a professor on the adjacent bench (albeit in a slightly intrusive manner). The one section of recording we hear said British professor telling someone close to them how they plan to “go for it” and take a job at Lewis and Clark University, an institution he describes as similar to Oberlin.

https://soundcloud.com/danielnerenhausen/day1?in=danielnerenhausen/sets/hot-ethno-tracks

It is interesting to observe how, similar to how some offices have started playing “ambient chatter” to induce conversation and collaboration, the constant presence of anthrophonic noise, rather than being distracting or annoying, can actually be comforting to and sought out by urbanites.

The soundscape we recorded at night had a distinctly different feel and sonic texture than the daytime recording. Notably, the presence of rain represented about the only geophonic sound captured in either recording, while also having the effect of reducing the amount of traffic, both car and human, thus reducing overall noise. What was most interesting, however, is how my perception of the soundscape subtly differed from the reality of the recording. Biking up to the place of recording, I remember noting that South Main felt eerie, as it was silent and absent of almost any noise. Although so expected they almost aren't registered by our brains, I made a conscious note of the keynote sounds: crickets and rain on the leaves. But upon listening to the recording it was evident that at night too, anthrophonic noises are evident, and the silence I perceived was not as total as my mind led me to believe. While the biophonic and geophonic sounds of crickets and rain drops were the loudest, the sum of anthrophonic noises in the surrounding area combined to for a constant background noise, with electromechanical and physiological sounds sporadically overpowering all of these previously mentioned sounds. (https://soundcloud.com/danielnerenhausen/night1?in=danielnerenhausen/sets/hot-ethno-tracks)

As our recordings and observations, both in Cleveland and Oberlin, demonstrated in a small scale, admittedly unscientific manner, noise filtration is a powerful tactic employed by our brains, and can distract from the effects these noises may have. Despite its power to overwhelm even the loudest biophonic, and geophonic sounds, most studies and activism in regard to unwanted anthrophonic sound (often used interchangeably with “noise pollution) have focused on the physiological effects it has, whilst ignoring the equally important psychological ones. As Atkinson puts it, “like a form of sonic false consciousness, we remain peculiarly detached and desensitised to the auditory life and possibilities of the city” (Atkinson 1915). Anthrophonic noise, because of its volume, type, frequency, location, or complete lack thereof, can have profound effects on individual patterns of social association, physical movement, interaction, creativity, and emotions. For hearing impaired people, these constant noises that our brains and urban planners often disregard can “have profound effects on the leisure patterns of the (hearing impaired) population, particularly for the three-quarters of respondents who felt the volume of music and background noise affected their ability to communicate in social spaces” (Atkinson 1914-1915). Similarly, there remains little comprehension of connection between the intensity, nature, and social sources of sound, and the resultant effects on the combined consciousness of affected communities. As Schafer notes, keynote sounds “outline the character of people living there,” and a new mapping of this less solid, but no less affecting, aspect of the urban condition could be both useful and important.

(spectrogram of daytime recording)

Works Cited

Atkinson, Rowland. "Ecology of Sound: The Sonic Order of Urban Space." Urban Studies 44.10 (2007): 1905-917. Web.

Soundscape in Time at the AJLC Pond

by Annie Goodridge and Paulus van Horne

        The pond by the AJLC building is a striking representative of Oberlin campus' intricately crafted and controlled natural features. Our group's study aims to investigate the difference in soundscape between two locations beside the pond (position 1 and position 2) at two times of day (around 11 AM and 11PM). We hope to determine by direct comparison in what ways location and time of day affect the soundscape around the pond by the AJLC. 

        The locations (see figure 4 for map) were chosen also because direction of the microphones (our audio recorder has a stereo X/Y microphone pattern) created a unique spatialized listening experience. Listening to the first recording, the listener will mostly hear cars in the left ear since the left microphone was facing the street while the right microphone faced the pond. Similarly, in the second recording, the listener will hear pedestrians move from the right ear to the left ear as they walked from one side of the microphone to another (this was not planned, a happy coincidence). The authors hope that a listener will hear how location, time of day, and activity of the person recording affect the soundscape of the AJLC pond. Additional thought should also be given to how parameters outside the scope of this study (season, longer time scale, weather) might have equally strong impacts on soundscape perception.

        The first recording we took was located at position 1 on the map (Figure 4), the stone wall next to the AJLC pond. The recorder has two microphones, one of which was facing the street (left ear) and the other, the pond (right ear). The listener is thus “facing” towards the building, looking across its façade from east to west. The length of the recording was 25 minutes, but two minutes have been chosen as exemplary of the soundscape of this location at approximately 10:36 AM on a Wednesday.

        The keynotes of the ~3 minutes selected for your listening are the rain, which (when listening closely) can be heard throughout, and the relentless crickets. Likewise, another keynote is the sound of rain as it hits the umbrella that was held directly above the recorder. Each keynote belongs to its own sonic category: the rain, geophony; the crickets, biophony; and the rain on the umbrella, anthrophony. Both the rain and the crickets were the sole members of their respective sonic categories during the first recording. The anthrophony was the most diverse in all of the recordings in terms of what-made-what-sound. Most of the anthrophony could be labeled as belonging to the subcategory “electromechanical sounds.” The periodic sound of cars passing by, the sound of the police sirens in the distance, and the sound of Annie’s phone buzzing twice rapidly at the end of the recording are examples of this category of electromechanical sounds. Aside from the repetitive breathing that begins approximately 1 minute into the recording, all other anthrophonic sounds heard in the first recording are labeled as “incidental.” For instance, the sound of Annie opening their umbrella, the sound of Annie moving their keys, and the sound of workers unloading a truck nearby each fall under this category of incidental sounds.

        The second recording was taken at position 2 on the map (Figure 5), on a bench at the northeast corner of the AJLC. The microphones were facing east (left ear – towards Talcott) and west (right ear – towards AJLC back entrance). The listener is thus “facing” towards the pond from the north with a path 5 feet in front of the recorder and tall grass just beyond that. The length of the recording was 20 minutes, and 3 minutes have been chosen as exemplary of the soundscape of this location at approximately 10:50 AM on a Wednesday.

        The keynotes of the ~3 minutes selected for your listening are, again, the rain, and the crickets. Again, there are no other geophonic or biophonic sounds. And again, the main sounds heard in the 3-minute snippet are anthrophonic. Here, because the bench is some 40 feet further from the street than the stone wall, the sound of cars passing, though it happens often, is more faint. The most common anthrophonic sound in the second recording is the sound of students talking to each other (later in the recording, yelling as they exit the building). About halfway through the recording, the listener hears two students walk west to east (from the right ear to the left ear) away from the AJLC past the recorder. Incidental sounds include the sound of people’s shoes as they traverse the grass, and the sound of a person’s bike chain as they unlock their bike after class.

        The third recording was made back at location 1 but in the late evening (at 10:45PM) shortly after a light rain storm. As in the first recording, the crickets are a constant presence in the recording. The recordist is distinctly present in this recording, and can be heard eating nachos fairly close to the microphone. The surrounding soundscape has a muted quality when compared to the early recording (Recording #1). The soundscape is also significantly less varied, consisting of crickets, eating, occasional passersby and a single car in the duration of the thirty minute raw recording. The excerpt below attempts to provide a representative sample of the larger recording. 

        The fourth recording was taken at location 2 in the late evening (around 11:15PM) shortly after a light rain storm. Cicadas, once again, dominate the soundscape which is peppered with the muttering voices of drunk students passing by the bench at location 2. The recordist's presence can again be felt in this recording, near the end when they rustle a plastic bag. The bag seems much louder than the rest of the soundscape to the proximity of the sound to the recording device.

        

        Our duo has concluded the following about the AJLC pond based on our soundscape (time) study:

• Time has little to no effect on the volume of cicadas around the pond.
• Time does have significant impact on human voices passing by the pond
• specifically, the later recordings exhibit a much more muted and/or muttering quality to the voices in contrast to the chatty students in between classes featured in the midday recordings.
• Anthrophony (in the form of car traffic) is a strong presence in the AJLC pond soundscape due to the pond's proximity to a semi-busy road.
• These sounds more frequent during midday (relative to late night) for fairly obvious reasons. 

        Although this falls outside the scope of this study, this author noticed a striking difference in soundscape around the pond relative to that of last year, namely in the absence of frog mating calls. In years past, this throaty chorus has been the keynote sound of the environment. This school year, no such chorus can be heard. The authors believe this may be due to the season (going on winter time) and/or the noticeable drop in water level and overgrowth of vegetation at this time relative to previous years. This observation, more than those gathered over the few days of recording, is of the greatest significance to our class. As  Bernie Krause describes in his numerous soundscape studies, a change in environment was accompanied by a correlated change in soundscape.

        Since part of this conclusion relies on lived experience over years (not weeks or even months) at this pond, the authors conclude that a soundscape study as a research tool is highly susceptible to changes in variables such as time scale (days/weeks vs. months/years) as well as microphone placement (as evidenced by eating sounds in Recording #3) and, of course, prior knowledge (lived experience) of the recording location.

Figure 1: Location 1 for recording, stone wall by AJLC pond - Photo taken by Annie Goodridge

Figure 2: Location 2 for recording, wooden bench by AJLC pond - Photo taken by Annie Goodridge

Figure 3. Location 1 for recording, taken at the time of the second recording - Photo taken by Paulus van Horne

Figure 4: Location 2 for recording, taken at the time of the second recording - Photo taken by Paulus van Horne

Figure 5: Map of recording area, with locations marked in red (not to scale)- Illustrated by Annie Goodridge

To hear the recordings, please visit the soundcloud link here.

See below for sonographs of the audio recordings:

Sonograph corresponding to Recording no. 1 and Figure 1.

Sonograph corresponding to Recording no. 2 and Figure 2.

Sonograph corresponding to Recording no. 3 and Figure 3.

Sonograph corresponding to Recording no. 4 and Figure 4.

Soundscape Study

Cory Burris and Opal Perron-Feller

     On the first day of soundscape study, the time of day is in the midafternoon. The recording starts midway into the hourly bell sequence from Finney Chapel. Immediately afterwards, there are other sounds which signify the time of day in the recording. Mainly there are insects heard throughout the recording along with a few birdsongs every so often. They are probably not cicadas, but they could not be crickets since they do not sound in the afternoon. There are also sounds of cars and pedestrians passing by. The sounds presented in this study more likely dictate what time of day the recording was produced.

            The location of the recording was held on Vine and South Professor streets. The most consistent sound on this recording is the biophonic sounds of insects which speak on their own in a natural environment. A biophonic sound is a noise made by a living mammal. The location is close to more natural and geophonic environments. A geophonic location consists of natural life, such as trees, mountains, and bodies of water. The sound would therefore not be present throughout all of Oberlin since it is not an entirely geophonic site. The evidence of biophonic sounds suggests the recording may have been recorded in a particular season. These sounds are generally present in every season except the winter, when virtually no biophonic sounds can be heard due to the winter’s extreme environment.

A young Maple Tree. Looking east down Vine Street

A mature Redbud tree kept the area shaded and housed
many birds and insects.

A small beetle

  

Kade Hall, on the western side of South Professor

Lichen growing on the trunk of the Redbud tree

Oberlin generally does not contain a traffic environment similar to a bustling tourist attraction, due to its small size. The anthrophonic sounds of automobiles are therefore present. Anthrophonic sounds are noises made and arranged by humans. They will usually increase in volume as they approach the recording, pass it by at the climax of its volume, and decrease its sound as it moves away. Mainly, only the sound of engines can be heard as the machine maneuvers. Occasionally, however, there are some other human–produced and organized sounds directly from the car, such as commercials and music tracks. The automobiles generally do not disrupt the environment or change the overall atmosphere or the recording. This is because they move around to wherever their destination is located.

            Least frequently, however, there is the sound of pedestrians walking, communicating, giving directions and maneuvering through other means without a motor. At one point, there is a sound of a beep as an individual slides his or her college identification card into the reader to gain access to a college–owned building. This sound is more spread out in the recording, since every aforementioned sound will take place before another human sound is heard. This is another example of anthrophonic sound, since it is nothing a biophonic individual could sound, nor would any geophonic objects be able to do.

            Mainly, there are no geophonic sounds which are audible in the recording. The recording was probably produced under a clear sky without any celestial objects falling on the earth. If there is any wind, it is not audible, which is surprising since there are effects which imitate the sound. There is no rain, thunder, flowing water, cracking of ice, crackling fire or crunching of leaves. The recording overall is dictated through the sounds of biophony and anthrophony.

            A few days later, another soundscape study was conducted in the morning, a different time of day. In the first recording, the cicadas were sounding throughout the recording from start to finish unceasingly. On the second day, however, there were no endless sounds. The most common sound was the singing of different birds. The noises lasted for only a fraction of a second, yet their frequency was the most distributed. During this time of day, there were more automobiles heard in the recording. The soundscape was recorded at a time of day when parents would take their children to school, most commonly through an automobile. The most frequent sound was from ordinary automobiles from their recognizable engine sound. The most interesting sound from these automobiles is one that comes from a bus. The bus will stop, followed by some conversion, supposedly between the driver and another pedestrian. The bus then departs towards its destination. There may also have been larger vehicles or motorcycles present due to their larger dynamic and pitch lengths. There are also pairs of college students conversing with each other, since it is also the time where they leave to attend their first academic classes.

            From the conducted study, a few unique observations were noted. From the same geographical location, the same noises might have been produced in the same time frame on different days, depending on the season. The noise level may also vary depending on the time of day and the routine which is utilized in a given area. The soundscape proved that the mornings seemed to have more anthrophic sounds because there are more automobiles in motion, whereas the afternoon had more biophonic sounds.

            The soundscape studies that have been recorded have presented a number of unique sounds and timbres which could be heard from different times of the day. They allow the listener to enjoy multiple geographical locations and environments in their natural habitats and view themselves in the same area. It is how individuals can gain a better understanding of an undisturbed society, wherever and whenever it may occur.

Spectrogram

           

https://soundcloud.com/opal-perron-feller/ethnomusicology-212-clip

            

Conservatory Soundscape Study

        For this assignment, I studied the soundscape of the conservatory. Most parts of the conservatory soundscape stay fairly constant throughout the day as there are always people practicing in the practice rooms and sitting in the lounge as long as the buildings are open. The volume of the sounds usually begins to decrease around 8 or 9pm, but there are still people practicing and doing work past 11:30pm, even on the weekends. My recordings were done mostly in the practice rooms in Robertson and the lounge on the first floor, but I also did some recordings outside the conservatory for contrast.

        During the process of my recording, I identified two types of sound; anthrophony and biophony. Anthrophony is the sounds made by humans as well as that made by man made objects. Biophony is the sounds made by any nonhuman living thing. Anthrophony has several subcategories including physiological, controlled, and electromechanical. Physiological sounds are those made by the human body, such as talking, coughing, or breathing. Controlled sounds are sounds such as music or theatrical performance. Electromechanical sounds are those made by man made technology and can range from the sounds of keys being pressed on a keyboard or the hum of overhead lights to the sounds of trucks or airplanes passing by.

            

        One thing that I noticed while recording was that there was a lot of diversity in the types of people who spend their time in the conservatory. I saw several friend groups in which some people would never have met if it wasn’t for their share of love in music. Music brings people together, which is something that I think tends to be forgotten, but it is an important fact because I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like some kind of music. Another thing I noticed was the number of different sounds I could hear. Walking by the practice rooms, one can hear five or six different instruments and vocalists at once, which can be overwhelming. Recording a single sound would have been impossible, there are so many sounds happening at once that seem to be of equal importance.

        The recordings I did inside have in them a number of sounds that identify them as being a part of industrialized society; conversation (physiological anthrophony) and music (controlled anthrophony) could be heard in almost every part of the building, and even outside, although the music was quite faint; it seems unlikely that even the best audio recorder could have picked it up. In the lounge area, there were many examples of electromechanical anthrophony such as the sounds of keyboards, the overhead lights, and the tick of the clock’s minute hand.

        The recordings I did outside also picked up conversation, as well as car engines and horns and bicycles (also electromechanical anthrophony), but they picked up biophony as well. On the recording, one can hear insects chirping, the occasional bird call, and once, the sound of a fish breaking the surface of the water in the pond. These sounds are quite different from those found inside the conservatory, but they are also often quieter, which means that if you listen, you can hear the sounds from inside the building.

        Studying the sounds of an environment can be beneficial in the understanding of its inhabitants as well as their surroundings. It also helps you to pay closer attention to the soundscape, which makes it more likely that you will hear things you never would have heard before. This is especially true of things we consider to be “noise,” which has many definitions, but I define as sounds that are not intended to hold meaning. These are things like lights, fans, computers; anything that produces a sound as a secondary function. Although these sounds aren’t meant to hold meaning, they can still give one insight into an environment.

        This exercise, much like the one in which we wore earplugs for an extended period of time, gave me a new perspective and made me a little bit more aware of my surroundings. It also led me to realize that the conservatory might be one of the most culturally diverse places on campus, with the exception of places like Mudd and the dining halls. Although I only analyzed a small portion of the conservatory, I know from the range of departments and programs that the rest of it is just as diverse, but there are still common themes throughout. An interesting future experiment would be to compare the soundscape of the conservatory to those of other academic buildings on campus, or even to other places on campus where music can be found, such as the practice rooms in Kahn, performances in the Cat, or marching band practice in Hales.

There and Back Again: A Soundwalk Loop through Oberlin's South-Central Campus

By Nic Vigilante, Camille Backman, and Linnea Scott

This soundwalk aims to capture various sounds of Oberlin students and buildings and how they interact with the biophony in Oberlin's natural soundscape. Ideally, this soundwalk should be done beginning around 12:25pm on a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, preferably on a warm, sunny day, so as to draw as many students out from hiding as possible.

The times listed are meant to be approximate arrival times at each destination or segment They are fairly flexible, except for the 1:00pm arrival at Finney Chapel, as the bells ring on the hour. The images provided are meant as guides for certain areas, with the red dots marking your approximate location. For complete map, see bottom of post.

12:25 - Begin on the sidewalk on the north side of Harkness. As you walk slowly along the east side of the building, along Hark Bowl and towards the AJLC, listen to the sounds of students eating outside the building and how they compare to the sounds of students from inside the building, filtered through the walls. Continue towards the AJLC, listening for how increasing distance from Hark Bowl changes the timbre and pitch of the sound created by the students. As you pass the AJLC pond, do any frogs greet your ears?

12:30 - As you enter the AJLC, listen for how the double doors shut out external sound in a sudden rush of silence. Walk into the atrium, and sit in one of the seats near the fountain. Sit here for five to ten minutes, listening to the unique sounds of the building. Pay special attention to sounds of the solar-powered fountain, which provides a way in which to “hear” the sunlight - the louder the fountain is, the stronger the sun is shining. Also listen for how the building creates a unique aural space, both acoustically and socially- footsteps in the building have a unique sound due to the size and shape of its “resonating chamber” (the atrium), and the way in which students converse with each other in this space is influenced by a sense of unwillingness to disturb the aural stillness of the room (you will likely notice that students speak unusually quietly while in the atrium).

12:40 - Exit the AJLC through the west doors, and then turn right and continue north along the west side of Harkness. Pay special attention to the sounds of the small orchard on the north side of the AJLC as you pass by. Cross College St., and continue north into Dascomb.

12:45 - When you reach Dascomb Dining Hall, enter through the south main doors and proceed into the dining hall itself. How do the sounds of these lunch students compare to those of the Harkness lunch sounds? These sounds, confined to the hall by walls, may seem more jumbled and condensed than those infiltrating Harkness Bowl. Exit the hall through the doors at the back (north) side of the building and continue into Wilder Bowl.

12:50 - From Dascomb, walk north into Wilder Bowl. Walk striaght north along the path that runs by Mudd Library. Listen to the people rushing to lunch or in and out of the library. If it’s warm enough, you may hear the sounds of students enjoying the weather on the grass intermingling with the natural sounds of Wilder Bowl, such as birds. Once you reach the front of Mudd, turn right and cut directly across Wilder Bowl. Once you reach the other side, turn right and walk along the path that goes behind Warner. Stop at the row of bushes on your right. There is often a dense collection of sparrows here, making for an exciting little cacophony. Turn back towards North Campus and make your way to Finney Chapel.

1:00 - At this point, you will have arrived to Finney Chapel in time to hear a sound mark of the Oberlin community. As the Finney Chapel bells are resonating make your way to the benches located between the chapel and the Cox building. Spend 10 minutes here, if possible. As you’re sitting, take a moment to recognize the bubbling of the fountain mixing with a multitude of sounds. First, focus in on the sound flowing out of Finney Chapel. Timed correctly, you should be hearing the sounds of orchestra rehearsal. This anthropologic sound is another highlight of the Oberlin College and Conservatory soundscape. After listening to the orchestra turn your attention to the way the fountain is blending with the natural organisms within the soundscape. When you are ready, walk east towards Professor St. Cross it and make your way into Tappan Square.

1:10 - Once you enter Tappan Square, sit down on the first bench you approach. Notice how the sounds of orchestra rehearsal have faded a bit, now complimented more heavily by what is a common keynote sound in most human-inhabited areas: cars driving around the parameter of the square. Further, shut your eyes and recognize the two primary methods of transport among students. Sit for a few minutes and listen for the distinctive whir of  bicycles rolling past in contrast with the sounds of footsteps on the brick pathways as students navigate the square.

1:20 - Walk towards the center of Tappan. As you are standing here look down each pathway and notice what biophony you hear. If you see a squirrel burying a nut, can you hear it? What changes when you close your eyes? Notice the difference in the sounds of squirrels running along the grass and trees, mixed with cicadas and crickets. The difference between students walking on the grass versus the pavement should be perceptible, should you happen to spot some students taking alternate routes. Make your way back towards Harkness Bowl.

1:30 - Once you arrive at Harkness Bowl, notice the change in the density of sound as the meal has most likely finished and only a few students will remain outside the building. Can you hear birdsong and insect whirring more clearly now that the students are gone? Finally, return your attention to the constant commotion occurring around campus. The blend of a bicycles and cars zooming past, and footsteps resonating on pavement and grass as Oberlin continues to ebb and flow with sound, in a constant state of aural hubbub.

Oberlin Natural Spaces Soundscape Study: Considering Anthrophonic Noise in "Wild" Spaces

Oberlin Natural Spaces Soundscape Study: 

Considering Anthrophonic Noise in "Wild" Spaces

By: Katherine Karson, Cate Lytle and Heidi Yarger

Our soundscape study centers on human activity and intervention in the natural landscapes of Oberlin. The Arboretum and Plum Creek Corridor are areas that are designated as “natural”, while George Jones Farm contains ecological phenomena within it. We explored the three locations during various times of day and under different conditions to investigate the similarities and differences in their soundscapes. Mainly, we focused on the presence of anthrophonic sounds in these natural spaces, and the concept of human-sourced noise and its interaction with the natural biophony. While this is not strictly a study of one soundscape, it is the study of several locations that are more rural, and therefore presents the opportunity to question and analyze patterns of sonic characteristics within the Oberlin soundscape as a whole. Specifically, we found it difficult, if not completely impossible, to separate the distant anthrophony from biophony within these natural spaces.

Location 1: George Jones Farm

George Jones Farm is a 70-acre farm and nature preserve. It is built with a permaculture framework in mind, so while there are what one might consider typical fields that have been plowed for crop cultivation, most of the farm is covered in meadows and dense forest. The path leading up the beehives runs between a small, man-made pond, and a dense forest/shrub area. The amount of “wild” space coupled with the farm’s organic practices (no pesticide usage, for example) provides habitat for many insects, birds, and animals. There are two beehives, both located atop a small hill that is surrounded at the moment by goldenrod plants.

Recordings were taken on separate days during different time periods, meaning that weather and time-period played a role in what was recorded. For example, I could only record the beehives on sunny days because bees do not leave the hive when it is raining, nor do they leave at nighttime. The distance of the path to the apiary itself from the roadway, as well a its position on the farm itself, made for very little anthrophony (human-sourced sound). In fact, the only human-made sounds audible in my recordings are those of my own footsteps as I made my way through the tall grasses of the meadow.

Throughout all of the recordings, crickets are audible—denoting the cricket chorus as a keynote sound (a sound that is consistently in the background sound environment). One recording was taken during a rainstorm by the edge of the forest. In that recording, the raindrops hitting the microphone are a sound signal of that moment in time—the transition from summer into fall as the recording was taken right after the fall equinox (track 2).  In the recordings of the bees themselves, not much is audible outside of the bees buzzing around the microphone, occasionally bouncing off its surface. Here, the sound signal, or particular sound of the moment, is the buzz of the bee, which, even to someone who hasn’t visited the hives, communicates the chaotic and lively nature of the soundscape (track 1).

Currently, the hives are being attacked by wasps and are in a state of emergency, this is sonically reflected in the volume of their buzzing as well as the “bouncing” off of the microphone—bees bounce off of objects as an act of warning to intruders that they are ready to sting. The aggression of the bee recording contrasts the recording of the forest during a rainstorm. In the latter recording, the sound of rain is consistent without much variation, while in the former, the bees as they fly back and forth from the entrance of the hive (which is where the microphone was set) creates a variable sonic experience depending on how close bees are to the microphone as well as the speed that they are flying by.

Location 2: Plum Creek Corridor

The next area that we investigated was the "Plum Creek Riparian Corridor Research and Maintenance Site". A riparian corridor is the land that is situated next to a body of water and one of its many uses is that it acts as a buffer and helps reduce flooding. The Oberlin Public Works Department’s Riparian Corridor Restoration Project believes that “improving the buffers in the Plum Creek riparian corridor will help improve the overall health, functionality and beauty of the Plum Creek corridor.” They are working on this by suppressing the growth of invasive plants such as Japanese, Knotweed and Multiflora Rosa, and have germinated the area with plants such as native shrubs and trees.

While the existence of a restoration project was set out with good intentions in preserving the overall health of the ecosystem, the human intervention must have affected the soundscape in ways that may go unnoticed. We compared rush hour on Thursday afternoon (22nd September at 4pm) and Friday evening (17th September at 8pm) and the results were astonishing. 

It was very surprising that while we expected heavier anthrophony on Thursday afternoon due to rush hour, on Friday evening there were more hi-fi sounds that reached the soundscape from a community event in downtown Oberlin: we found an earwitness that affirmed fireworks for the Eid celebration at Lewis House so that could be one plausible explanation. So while there was more immediate anthrophony affecting the soundscape during the day, the sounds in the evening were affecting the soundscape from a much greater distance. The latter is more dangerous because it implies that the producers of the sound are unaware of the distance their sound can travel and therefore cannot see the extent to which they are potentially affecting or not affecting the health of soundscapes.

Furthermore we can hear the difference in the density of the soundscape during the day and at night, when there is much more perceivable biophony. It is difficult to attribute the difference of biophony solely to the influence of anthrophony because there was an equal amount of traffic in the evening as there was during the day. It would be interesting to consider how the soundscape changes when there are people directly working in the corridor and see to what extent that affects the biophony of the ecosystem. Even though the evening soundscape suggests a much healthier environment when there less immediate anthrophony affecting the area, the corridor is still situated within a greater urban soundscape with multiple houses situated on either side which would imply that there is a certain level of adaptation already having been made by the animals.

Location 3: Oberlin Arboretum

The third location we explored for our soundscape study was the “Arb” - Oberlin’s Arboretum, a 17-acre nature preserve located at the southernmost point of the campus. This area could be considered one of the most “wild” spaces of Oberlin, as it has many natural pathways, two large ponds, densely wooded areas with a flowing creek, and clearings of tall grasses and weeds. Because of this diversity of landscapes within the Arb, I focused the recordings around three areas. These included a wooded pathway that runs on the outermost side of the reservoir pond and leads to a more wooded area, a sloping cleared grass hill, and a wide flat field thick with tall grasses and goldenrod. I visited these locations on two separate dates and times, midday on Saturday, September 17th at 12pm and at sunset on Monday, September 19th at 6pm. In terms of weather conditions, Saturday was a warmer, damp and cloudy day with shifting periods of rain, while Monday was cooler and dry with frequent gusts of strong wind.

Solely based on these climatic factors, I could already hear a difference in the acoustic texture of the soundscape. The Saturday recordings have a more compact, reverberant quality to them, likely influenced by the humidity of the day and cloudy conditions. On the forest path, the diverse biophony of the soundscape included the keynote of the fast chirps and trills of crickets mixing with the deeper underlying buzz of cicadas. There were several types of birds that called out periodically, and their calls bounced and echoed around the forest. I also came across a squirrel with a fast, sharp-pitched chattering (track 6). The soundscape shifted as I left the forest and moved to the hill and clearing, where the open space made the similar sounds more open and distant. The crickets hiding in the tall grasses became the keynote of these spaces, and while bird calls were still present, they were further apart in frequency. Additionally, buzzing bees and wasps that hovered around the goldenrod. 

The muddy conditions in the Arb’s spaces on Saturday meant few others were exploring its paths, so most anthrophonic noise in close range, besides my own footsteps and rustling, was absent in the locations I visited.

However, I quickly realized that these “wild” spaces were not free from the distant anthrophonic noises of downtown Oberlin. In the recordings of each of the three locations I visited on Saturday, there was always some human-centered sound present that filled the spaces (and sometimes masked) the acoustic patterns of the Arb’s biophony. In the hi-fi nature of the Arb’s soundscape, the low ambient noise made these “urban” sounds very distinct in and often obtrusive to the sound cycles of the habitat. For example, the rushing jets of passing airplanes were present in both my Saturday and Monday recordings, and this low frequency noise often altered and masked the cricket, cicada and bird calls (track 5).

Specifically, on my Monday visit at sunset to the three locations, there was considerable external anthrophonic noise that competed with the chorus of crickets, birds and other insects. I heard the constant whining whir of a leafblower’s engine, the pervasive bark of dogs, and the deep rumbling rush and honking of passing cars (tracks 7 and 8). At one point the loud echoing siren of an ambulance cut through the soundscape unexpectedly, and the birds and insects seemed to increase the rate and sound level of their calls in an alarmed response (track 9).

By recording three separate locations, George Jones Farm, the Plum Creek Corridor and the Arb, we were able to consider how time and climate affects the soundscape of a given space, specifically in relation to human-sourced sounds. While we do not go as far as to consider these anthrophonic sounds “noise pollution” or sounds that detract from the soundscape in our study, it is hard not to consider them as an interference. There is an expectation for “natural” spaces such as the Arb to be tranquil places free from the noise of the automated world. The echoing drawl of a leaf blower or the bark of a neighborhood dog has a definite presence against the ambience of cricket and bird calls. Even spaces where there is little anthrophony are subject to sound interference of other sorts. The beehives at George Jones Farm, in their current state of distress, sound chaotic and have an increased volume compared to unstressed hive conditions, much like the increased sonic reaction of the Arb's organisms at the passing ambulance siren. The soundscape of a given space is constantly in a state of flux - factors such as weather, human activity, and time of day all play a role in the patterns of sonic activity at a given moment. Rather than classifying such sonic shifts as solely “good” or “bad,” we wish to instead consider each sound as a way to interact with and gain information from our environments.

Spectrogram 1: Ambulance Siren Echoes in the Arb (23 second mark of track 8)
An ambulance's siren cuts through the biophony of the evening chorus at the Arb. You can see on the spectrogram the rise and fall of the siren's pitch, in comparison to the steady hum of crickets and periodic sharp chirp of a bird, and cicada buzz in the background. Notice how the frequency and intensity of the bird call increases around the 42 second mark, likely as an alarmed response to the loud siren.

Spectrogram 2: Bees Buzzing Around the Hive (12 second mark of track 1) 
A particularly intense period of bee activity starts around the 12 second mark of track 1. The bees fast-paced buzzing wings dominate the soundscape as the clear keynote, although the higher pitched chirp of crickets can be heard moderately in the background. Each time a bee bumps the microphone the buzz sound increases dramatically.