For this last blog, I thought about using the short video I am presently working on to discuss the effects of sound on a media piece. For the last few days, I have been recording, re-recording, re-re-re-recording sounds, music and voice to capture the essence of the video and to facilitate the post-production part of my work. Adding sound to a video is deffinitely the most interesting thing I have done so far this semester since it allows me to create an ambiance for a movie that is entirely dependant on the choices I make in terms of sound. For this video, our team was thinking about representing the isolation of a girl in her madness. And it was really important for us to use still pictures and to give a blurry aesthetic to some scenes more than other. For us, the woman has an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. However, it was important not to make it too obvious to the viewer and fall into clichés.
I constructed the poem in 8 scenes and tried to express the complex inner life of the woman. Her past relationships, memories of her childhood, present thoughts compose the poem conceptually. Literaly, I wanted to choose words that would give the sense that extreme sensitivity to life can occasion insanity. I also wanted to represent the subject in a very philosophical way. Knowledge and non-knowledge of her condition makes her aware of knowledge and non-knowledge of life. As much as her sensitivity makes sensitive to life, her insanity makes her alive. I wanted to explore the notion of how grasping a concept, a notion, or knowledge can so often be ephemeral... as much as it can be ever-lasting.
The voice in the piece is mine. The first recording I made of it was too low, "like you are about to die", said Charles. No, we didn't want it to sound like she was dying. She was rather alive in her emotional life. So, for the second recording, I read the poem in a very emotional way. But, for the finish my teamates wanted to achieve, the voice sounded "too emotional, it's almost absurd... like the Moulin Rouge." And that has been our first debate about how the poem should sound. The thing is that I recorded a violonist to accompain the video and the violon was extremely emotional already. They convinced me that the images were neutral (wheat fields, industrial setting...) and so the poem should sound neutral because the violon was too intense. The director wanted something engaged but neutral. Ok so the last recording of the poem was made very neutral and we agreed that it was the most representative of our subject's condition.
The violin in the video acts as a non-diegetic elements. Since the viewer cannot see the originating cause of it, it acts as an acousmatic sound in the piece. The instrument is present in most scenes and represents the emotional layer of the piece. The woman, since the poem (or her internal monologue) is very neutral, expresses her feelings through the violin. I really thought violin would be the perfect instrument for this piece. I wanted something abrasive, industrial, edgy and blue. The three members of our team agreed that there was nothing to change to the violon. The musician had rendered the perfect emotion for the piece and it would only be a matter of putting the good music pieces with the good scene. Now, this is where most of the post-production layed.
The point of the soundtrack was to make it the closest to the images, as if the sound was emanating from the images. I didn't make the soundtrack so it would contrast the images but go perfectly well with them.
I also added another layer to the piece by creating a sound ambiance (kids playing in a schoolyard, arctic wind howling, industrial beats...). The whole point was to make it really subtle so we didn't fall once again, into the cliche. I really wanted something that blended into the music and the poem but added value to the images and the sounds. I didn't want to associate a particular image with a particular sound but rather create a general atmosphere. For some scenes, it was the coldness of isolation, for other, the warm recollection of childhood memories. It was really important for me to activate the sound memory of the piece by adding this layer.
Since we use still photography and that the pictures are not explicitely representative of the story, it was important to have the poem read as a semi-diegetic element. Because we wanted the piece to conserve a certain abstraction, the poem doesn't not relate exactly to actions or thoughts of the character, but also to some abstract concepts of existence. We wanted to have the voice fit the character and that's why I recorded many times and with many different voices, in order to find the perfect voice for the character. We wanted the viewer to have the impression that the voice was coming out of the character's head.
It was very interesting to experiment with sound and the visual elements of the piece. As soon as the photos were retouched and modified, and even in the process of doing so, I would change the sound accordingly to the feeling my two teamates wanted to portray. They would also adjust the images according to sounds they find interesting in the piece. The piece has been a fusion between sound and images, and an experiment on which sounds fit best with which images. It has been extremely constructive for me to work with video 3 students and to be able to create a soundtrack and a poem that would convey my thought on the fragility of inner life.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Sound Trip in the Town of Griffin
It was a stressed me who arrived at Griffin Town Monday night. Hectic week, last minute assignment... Maybe I should walk more often at 70 beats per minute, as required by Lisa's very soothing voice, it definitely slows down life. Before arriving in Griffin town, I just wanted to run through the neighborhood, get to the end of the path and take a picture of me smiling: I was here, I did it. As soon as I turned my Ipod on and heard the man signing, I couldn’t stop smiling. Take me back to Griffin Town too; there is so much to see.
Rule #1: Be Careful, you are moving in a real environment. When I turned on William, I wasn’t sure if the experience and the neighborhood were real anymore. I had never experienced Montreal in such a way. J’étais dépaysée. As the people on the soundtrack were relating the sound of the horseshoe hitting the cobblestones, an actual horse passed by, slowly. Surrounded by the industrial buildings, the cars, the empty parking lots, and the electrical wires, the horse seemed detached from the environment and I just thought: this soundscape is awesome. In about 6 minutes of sound juxtaposition and story telling voices, Lisa captured the essence of the neighborhood. The past intermingled with the present. The natural, the living, slowly stepping on the dead concrete.
When I heard this man talking about how the new buildings refresh the neighborhood and the other people talking about how depressing Griffin Town now was, I really thought that this assignment was made this way. Paradoxical, contradicting stories that resemble the neighborhood, a neighborhood with a past and a present, a landscape both beautifully fascinating and ugly. I wondered: Who would like to live here? I mean, it is truly desolate. I tried to imagine it during the daytime and it didn’t make it better. I thought about the rain, the fog, the grey and the brown. I thought about empty parking lots and dark alleys. It’s sad how the warmth of the past can dissipate so quickly. From what I’ve seen of Montreal in the past three years, the conservation of history and the celebration of actuality is a lot accountable for the eclectic ambiance of the city. Our campus, to me, is the perfect example of this multitemporal blend with the brand new Communication and Sciences Building and the old buildings right next to them. It just makes the city so much more interesting.
To stop and listen. I love stories. Whether they come from random children in the metro, from elderly remembering their colored past, from homeless talking about the hard street life, I stop and listen. But these days, they don’t even start the conversation since I pass too fast in front of them, running from one place to the other. Now, when Lisa actually asked me to stop, I did. And I listened. The reminiscence of people talking about the plane crash and the actual recreation of the crash made the story very powerful emotionally. It was worth stopping for a few minutes. Take the time to look around, observe instead of looking. I swear, this assignment really did me some good. Like a yoga class, that you have to take “time for yourself”. The desolate surroundings and the raucous voices of the old men telling the story made this moment very surreal, once again. It was like a timeless moment in a timeless area. It was as if the neighborhood has been removed from its past and then someone gave it back.
I think this surreal feeling is more like the feeling of being IN a movie. I sometimes think about it when I have those movie moments. For me (because I know that we’ve been influenced so deeply by movies that most people have those moments) it happens when every element seems to act on each another. As if, people, buildings, clouds, conversations and moments have been placed on my way for me to see them. With my headphones on, listening to the story of the place crash, I had this egocentric feeling of being in a movie. I was in a kind of 4D space or a video game in which I had a sensory experience that was not only limited to the eyes and the ears. It was freezing, empty, desolate and the sounds accompanying the recreation of the plane crash seemed hot, violent, charged with emotion, The cold breeze and my frozen feet definitely added intensity to the experience, as much as I thought my empty stomach was metaphorical given the circumstances.
Finally, after I had discovered the neighborhood and had realized that it was a sad part of Montreal, I stepped back and thought that what Lisa has done is really impressive. It challenges my notions of what can be done with sounds or in the sound field and made me think about the endless possibilities of the field. Not only was I really happy that Lisa made this project and gave life back to the area but also happy to discover another very interesting way to interpret the past. We are so accustomed to movies and history books, the latter which often leaves little room for interpretation, that it was refreshing to me to participate in an assignment that left room for interpretation and a lot of dreaming. It was in the end, a really cool assignment. And I thought the project itself was very complex and it was layered with so many different meanings: the accuracy of orality, the credibility of tales, the superposition of sounds, ambiance, and times I feel like I would go back on a summer day or a rainy spring evening and my experience would be completely different. It was open to different interpretations and brought about interesting emotions and thoughts in my mind.
Rule #1: Be Careful, you are moving in a real environment. When I turned on William, I wasn’t sure if the experience and the neighborhood were real anymore. I had never experienced Montreal in such a way. J’étais dépaysée. As the people on the soundtrack were relating the sound of the horseshoe hitting the cobblestones, an actual horse passed by, slowly. Surrounded by the industrial buildings, the cars, the empty parking lots, and the electrical wires, the horse seemed detached from the environment and I just thought: this soundscape is awesome. In about 6 minutes of sound juxtaposition and story telling voices, Lisa captured the essence of the neighborhood. The past intermingled with the present. The natural, the living, slowly stepping on the dead concrete.
When I heard this man talking about how the new buildings refresh the neighborhood and the other people talking about how depressing Griffin Town now was, I really thought that this assignment was made this way. Paradoxical, contradicting stories that resemble the neighborhood, a neighborhood with a past and a present, a landscape both beautifully fascinating and ugly. I wondered: Who would like to live here? I mean, it is truly desolate. I tried to imagine it during the daytime and it didn’t make it better. I thought about the rain, the fog, the grey and the brown. I thought about empty parking lots and dark alleys. It’s sad how the warmth of the past can dissipate so quickly. From what I’ve seen of Montreal in the past three years, the conservation of history and the celebration of actuality is a lot accountable for the eclectic ambiance of the city. Our campus, to me, is the perfect example of this multitemporal blend with the brand new Communication and Sciences Building and the old buildings right next to them. It just makes the city so much more interesting.
To stop and listen. I love stories. Whether they come from random children in the metro, from elderly remembering their colored past, from homeless talking about the hard street life, I stop and listen. But these days, they don’t even start the conversation since I pass too fast in front of them, running from one place to the other. Now, when Lisa actually asked me to stop, I did. And I listened. The reminiscence of people talking about the plane crash and the actual recreation of the crash made the story very powerful emotionally. It was worth stopping for a few minutes. Take the time to look around, observe instead of looking. I swear, this assignment really did me some good. Like a yoga class, that you have to take “time for yourself”. The desolate surroundings and the raucous voices of the old men telling the story made this moment very surreal, once again. It was like a timeless moment in a timeless area. It was as if the neighborhood has been removed from its past and then someone gave it back.
I think this surreal feeling is more like the feeling of being IN a movie. I sometimes think about it when I have those movie moments. For me (because I know that we’ve been influenced so deeply by movies that most people have those moments) it happens when every element seems to act on each another. As if, people, buildings, clouds, conversations and moments have been placed on my way for me to see them. With my headphones on, listening to the story of the place crash, I had this egocentric feeling of being in a movie. I was in a kind of 4D space or a video game in which I had a sensory experience that was not only limited to the eyes and the ears. It was freezing, empty, desolate and the sounds accompanying the recreation of the plane crash seemed hot, violent, charged with emotion, The cold breeze and my frozen feet definitely added intensity to the experience, as much as I thought my empty stomach was metaphorical given the circumstances.
Finally, after I had discovered the neighborhood and had realized that it was a sad part of Montreal, I stepped back and thought that what Lisa has done is really impressive. It challenges my notions of what can be done with sounds or in the sound field and made me think about the endless possibilities of the field. Not only was I really happy that Lisa made this project and gave life back to the area but also happy to discover another very interesting way to interpret the past. We are so accustomed to movies and history books, the latter which often leaves little room for interpretation, that it was refreshing to me to participate in an assignment that left room for interpretation and a lot of dreaming. It was in the end, a really cool assignment. And I thought the project itself was very complex and it was layered with so many different meanings: the accuracy of orality, the credibility of tales, the superposition of sounds, ambiance, and times I feel like I would go back on a summer day or a rainy spring evening and my experience would be completely different. It was open to different interpretations and brought about interesting emotions and thoughts in my mind.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
The Spaggat Sauce Soundwalk.
When my uncle called me on Saturday and asked me if I wanted to make «une sauce à spaggat» with the fresh tomatoes he harvested, I told him that I couldn't since I had an assignment to do over the weekend. Thinking about the fact that I would spend some great family time and have spaggat sauce (the regional Québécois version of spaghetti sauce) for years, I called him back and decided I would use the sounds of the preparation of this oh-so-delicious spaggat sauce for my soundwalk. Plus, since he lives out of the city, I thought I could record really interesting outdoor sounds (which I recorded between two rain showers...)
The point of this project for me was to familiarize with Protools and the sound recording techniques. The software and the device were both new to me and I thought I'd keep my creativity for when I'm at ease with the technologies. I really wanted to keep the narrative as simple as possible and record the clearest sounds. My uncle, besides being an excellent cook, has been a great helper on that project. While he cooked my spaggat sauce, I recorded as many sounds as possible. Since I had no idea how my narrative and the quality of the recordings would come up, I made sure I had more than enough sounds.
The visual component of a sound really adds to its power (Alten, 4). For this assignment, I really emphasized on the clarity of the sounds and their association with a particular mental imagery. Some sounds appear to be very similar to others(boiling water and caramelizing onions) and I didn't use them in my project. Once again, my goal was to make it as clear and audible as possible. I also really became aware of the emotional part of a sound and its power. There's one in particular (my uncle stirring the sauce) that sounds very viscous, it makes me have the quivers everytime I hear it and there's really nothing I can do to prevent that reaction. Furthermore, when I recorded sounds at the grocery store, I can hear a child babbling to his mom on one of the ambient recordings, it adds sunshine in the moment and I can't help myself but smile. Not only did I wanted people to have a visual image of the sounds I recorded but also be able to identify their source (Chion, 29).
I use the microphone for most of my recordings, whether I would record ambient sounds or isolated ones. On standby, I usually tried to find the clearer way to record the sound and leave the microphone in place for the recording. For example, to record my footsteps, I left the microphone hanging down and walked the most natural way possible. For the chopping sound, I placed the microphone above the action to get the most of the sound.
The only thing that bothered me with this assignment was trying to get rid of human voices in the background of any ambient sound. In my uncle's backyard this was something feasible. But, recording ambient sounds in a public place without hearing anyone is quite a challenge. I thought about the people in my class who decided to record ambient sounds in an urban setting and wondered if they had the same problem. At the same time, I found it really interesting to reflect on noise pollution and the fact that we are constantly bombarded with sonic stimuli. When you think about it, sounds become noises and omnipresent becomes pervasive. I mean, when do our ears take a break? Like ... never. Doing this assignment made me want to escape to the most silent place in the world and spend a couple of hours there with my ears. I now think they deserve it.
In the first post, I said I thought I was hyper-aware of the presence of sounds my surroundings. After a post-assignment introspective work, this idea has taken a quite different form. We have that saying in french: « Y'a rien que les fous qui ne changent pas d'idée!» I mean, I'm still extremely aware of noises around me and they still bother me as much (that's why I have my earphones on in a quasi-autistic manner)but I realized that I wasn't paying much attention to the construction of soundtracks in the media. As if, because the stimulus is always there, I take what I hear for granted. I think being aware of the work behind the recording of sounds really adds depth and texture to the understanding of a work and my readings of those works will definitely change from now on.
The point of this project for me was to familiarize with Protools and the sound recording techniques. The software and the device were both new to me and I thought I'd keep my creativity for when I'm at ease with the technologies. I really wanted to keep the narrative as simple as possible and record the clearest sounds. My uncle, besides being an excellent cook, has been a great helper on that project. While he cooked my spaggat sauce, I recorded as many sounds as possible. Since I had no idea how my narrative and the quality of the recordings would come up, I made sure I had more than enough sounds.
The visual component of a sound really adds to its power (Alten, 4). For this assignment, I really emphasized on the clarity of the sounds and their association with a particular mental imagery. Some sounds appear to be very similar to others(boiling water and caramelizing onions) and I didn't use them in my project. Once again, my goal was to make it as clear and audible as possible. I also really became aware of the emotional part of a sound and its power. There's one in particular (my uncle stirring the sauce) that sounds very viscous, it makes me have the quivers everytime I hear it and there's really nothing I can do to prevent that reaction. Furthermore, when I recorded sounds at the grocery store, I can hear a child babbling to his mom on one of the ambient recordings, it adds sunshine in the moment and I can't help myself but smile. Not only did I wanted people to have a visual image of the sounds I recorded but also be able to identify their source (Chion, 29).
I use the microphone for most of my recordings, whether I would record ambient sounds or isolated ones. On standby, I usually tried to find the clearer way to record the sound and leave the microphone in place for the recording. For example, to record my footsteps, I left the microphone hanging down and walked the most natural way possible. For the chopping sound, I placed the microphone above the action to get the most of the sound.
The only thing that bothered me with this assignment was trying to get rid of human voices in the background of any ambient sound. In my uncle's backyard this was something feasible. But, recording ambient sounds in a public place without hearing anyone is quite a challenge. I thought about the people in my class who decided to record ambient sounds in an urban setting and wondered if they had the same problem. At the same time, I found it really interesting to reflect on noise pollution and the fact that we are constantly bombarded with sonic stimuli. When you think about it, sounds become noises and omnipresent becomes pervasive. I mean, when do our ears take a break? Like ... never. Doing this assignment made me want to escape to the most silent place in the world and spend a couple of hours there with my ears. I now think they deserve it.
In the first post, I said I thought I was hyper-aware of the presence of sounds my surroundings. After a post-assignment introspective work, this idea has taken a quite different form. We have that saying in french: « Y'a rien que les fous qui ne changent pas d'idée!» I mean, I'm still extremely aware of noises around me and they still bother me as much (that's why I have my earphones on in a quasi-autistic manner)but I realized that I wasn't paying much attention to the construction of soundtracks in the media. As if, because the stimulus is always there, I take what I hear for granted. I think being aware of the work behind the recording of sounds really adds depth and texture to the understanding of a work and my readings of those works will definitely change from now on.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
I have always been peculiar about sounds. I remember my teenager self eating with earplugs on in order to be isolated from the family masticating sounds. How horrible was this crunch combined with this hormone overdose! My existential crises have fortunately shifted towards more noble causes but only sounds (or I would say noises) can provoke irrational angst and make me loose my acquired temperance (I really worked hard on this one). Perhaps I was born with extra coils in the cochlea…
So yesterday I have immersed myself back in that state of sound awareness and to my surprise, I felt, on two counts, like a teenager again. I am a waitress in a private tennis club and as soon as this of the old school family came in for dinner yesterday, I knew I would be in trouble. I felt an instant connection with the bewitching grandson. (Seriously, he was bewitching…) Why can’t we stop looking at each other? His ardent gaze made my heart beat so loud I thought it would give away my feelings to his family and make me look really unprofessional. I mean, for me to use ardent and heart beat in the same sentence, it had to be so. I’m usually not really impressionable but that beat was so loud I couldn’t think of something else… and had to acknowledge the fact that someone had touched the untouchable. It resounded, as metallically as my blood. Could he hear my eardrums resonate while I was pouring wine so close to him?
CLOC! CLOC! CLOC! The sound of my high heels usually accompanies my everyday steps. OK, walking with weaken knees in high heels was quite a challenge at this point. I usually like that sound when it reveals a bold and confidant personality, but during the whole time, beautiful grandson made me unbearably aware of my clumsiness. CLIC! CLUK...CLAK! …COCLOK! How embarrassing! Femininity is such a burden. He didn’t seem to bother though: he kept staring at me… I wonder what sound would make my melting body?
-Pour the wine. Just pour the wine, Emilie. And then walk away.
I usually have a little speech about the food or the wine or something…but it was like impossible for me to articulate a full sentence. You know that someone affects you to the core when you have to consciously control a process as innate as walking… And this is when I became very aware of the voice of my thoughts. I was talking really loud to myself but I couldn’t grasp the quality of this vibrant murmur in my head. Is it not a sound because I am the only one hearing it? Fortunately, I thought, considering the nature of the my inner conversation…
-Could we have another bottle of this delicious Beaujolais
-Oui. Certainement, Monsieur.
Pf! Not POP or pfffffffff. As festive as a loud POP can sound, in my school of thought, when a bottle of wine is properly opened it makes an almost imperceptible “pf” and that’s it. Mission accomplished. Seriously, I’ve opened so many bottles of wine (for myself or for the clientèle) that even under extreme pressure I could manage to hear that desired “pf”.
I had to end this heartwarming night with a running bath and a bottle of wine. When I was a teenager, only the running bath sound could ease my anxieties. It was miraculous and my mom would strongly encourage this practice. Yesterday night though, I had to take a cold one because I still had that generalized blush when I came back home. What had happened to me? Oh! The powerful sound of running water, soothe my mind! Oh! Did I really just buy one bottle of wine? Hahahahaha! Here’s my voice again…ungraspable but so perceptible.
There’s only one sound I wish I had heard (but it had been impossible since Maître D. decided to have a conversation with the family just before they left) and it’s the sound of grandson’s voice whispering his name in my ear…
So yesterday I have immersed myself back in that state of sound awareness and to my surprise, I felt, on two counts, like a teenager again. I am a waitress in a private tennis club and as soon as this of the old school family came in for dinner yesterday, I knew I would be in trouble. I felt an instant connection with the bewitching grandson. (Seriously, he was bewitching…) Why can’t we stop looking at each other? His ardent gaze made my heart beat so loud I thought it would give away my feelings to his family and make me look really unprofessional. I mean, for me to use ardent and heart beat in the same sentence, it had to be so. I’m usually not really impressionable but that beat was so loud I couldn’t think of something else… and had to acknowledge the fact that someone had touched the untouchable. It resounded, as metallically as my blood. Could he hear my eardrums resonate while I was pouring wine so close to him?
CLOC! CLOC! CLOC! The sound of my high heels usually accompanies my everyday steps. OK, walking with weaken knees in high heels was quite a challenge at this point. I usually like that sound when it reveals a bold and confidant personality, but during the whole time, beautiful grandson made me unbearably aware of my clumsiness. CLIC! CLUK...CLAK! …COCLOK! How embarrassing! Femininity is such a burden. He didn’t seem to bother though: he kept staring at me… I wonder what sound would make my melting body?
-Pour the wine. Just pour the wine, Emilie. And then walk away.
I usually have a little speech about the food or the wine or something…but it was like impossible for me to articulate a full sentence. You know that someone affects you to the core when you have to consciously control a process as innate as walking… And this is when I became very aware of the voice of my thoughts. I was talking really loud to myself but I couldn’t grasp the quality of this vibrant murmur in my head. Is it not a sound because I am the only one hearing it? Fortunately, I thought, considering the nature of the my inner conversation…
-Could we have another bottle of this delicious Beaujolais
-Oui. Certainement, Monsieur.
Pf! Not POP or pfffffffff. As festive as a loud POP can sound, in my school of thought, when a bottle of wine is properly opened it makes an almost imperceptible “pf” and that’s it. Mission accomplished. Seriously, I’ve opened so many bottles of wine (for myself or for the clientèle) that even under extreme pressure I could manage to hear that desired “pf”.
I had to end this heartwarming night with a running bath and a bottle of wine. When I was a teenager, only the running bath sound could ease my anxieties. It was miraculous and my mom would strongly encourage this practice. Yesterday night though, I had to take a cold one because I still had that generalized blush when I came back home. What had happened to me? Oh! The powerful sound of running water, soothe my mind! Oh! Did I really just buy one bottle of wine? Hahahahaha! Here’s my voice again…ungraspable but so perceptible.
There’s only one sound I wish I had heard (but it had been impossible since Maître D. decided to have a conversation with the family just before they left) and it’s the sound of grandson’s voice whispering his name in my ear…
Sunday, September 13, 2009
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