First published Inpress (Issue # 1192), Melbourne on 21 September 2011, and in Drum Media (Issue # 1078), Sydney on 20 September 2011
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
The tagline of the original Alien film was 'In space no one can hear you scream'. In London it often feels that there’s no place you can get far enough away from people to  scream. While you may have difficulty finding a private space to vent  your bottled-up frustrations without being overheard, the flip to this  is the worry that if you did cry out for assistance, seemingly no-one  would heed your call. The capital is so densely populated that it’s hard  to find respite, and recent studies show that it will only get worse in  the future. The Royal Institute of British Architects found that many  newly built or converted properties are too small for comfortable  living, with one bedroom properties being 4 square metres smaller than  the recommended minimum, barely leaving room to navigate around a single  bed.
The shared walls of terraced housing mean you hear the  neighbour’s washing machine rumbling late into the night, and even the  sounds of their toilet roll spinning in its holder. Yet the great  advantage of terraces is the quiet solitude created by the square itself  to be enjoyed in back rooms (except when your neighbour decides that 8am  on a Saturday morning is the ideal time to mow that lawn). Outside the  home it’s harder to find peace, especially now that public transport has  decided to talk to us. Being informed that “This is a number 38 bus to  Victorian” (sic) at every stop makes bus journeys seem longer than ever,  something that can only be made worse by the near unavoidable low-fi  sodcasting from mobile phones. The only solution is to plug in your own  headphones to drown out the background, so your brain only has one  distraction to ignore.
One of the pleasant side effects of the volcanic eruptions in Iceland was the silence that that fell over the country as a result of the closure of UK  airspace. In south east London, residents who lived under the Heathrow  flight path could hear themselves think for first time in many years,  the absence of modern sounds proving to be a rare treat. Something that  is more common on the medieval byways of car-free Italian cities such as  Venice or more especially Siena,  where it’s still possible to be lost in time, the quiet streets  allowing the sounds of history to seep through. In the City of London you can sometimes experience similar feelings on weekends, walking the narrow lanes off Cheapside within the sound of Bow Bells, but these prove fleeting.
This past weekend has seen the 19th  annual Open House event, wherein various usually inaccessible buildings  open to the general public for a few hours providing a rare opportunity  to see both new architecture and glimpse into a hidden past. It’s often  said that smell is the sense that is most deeply tied into memory, but  there are many times that a song or a piece of music takes you back to a  particular time or place, or maybe just the memory of a person, perhaps  now lost. But a group of scientists are currently delving into the  world of archaeoacoustics, so it may soon be possible to hear how things  used to be, as well as see and smell them. This was the subject of a  fascinating documentary broadcast on BBC Radio 4 last week. In Hearing the Past  Professor Jim Al-Khalili looked at the pioneering work by a diverse  group of scientists, engineers and artists, led by staff of the  Department of Electronics at the University of York.  Dr Damian Murphy sought to recreate what the sound of choral music  would have been in Coventry Cathedral before it was destroyed in a  bombing raid in 1940. Using an anechoic chamber and some advanced  computing, the results were astounding.
Now others have taken  this technology and used it to replicate how ceremonies may have sounded  at Stonehenge 4000 years ago, without the rumble of traffic from a  nearby A road. The documentary reported that the site develops a  resonant bass rumble that it compared to a Depeche Mode synth sound.  Using studios to create certain acoustic environments is nothing new,  nor is electronically altering sounds once they are recorded. When Peter  Gabriel released Plays Live  in 1983, the liner notes made clear that the original live recordings  had been tinkered with before release, honestly admitting that “the  generic term of this process is ‘cheating’." I wonder how long before  this new technology is used by artists to create ‘live’ recordings in  locations they’ve never even visited?
© James McGalliard 2011
Inpress: Published on page 52Drum: Published on page 54
