Kat's Noise Walk

I have been realizing this week how important sound is to the telling of a story. I have always known about sound effects, movie scores, and recording equipment, but until recently, I hadn't gotten the full scope of its value. On thursday this week our assignment for Multimedia Principles was to take a "noise walk." This was basically walking around blindfolded being led by someone, listening intently and describing what we heard. Even on our rather quiet campus, there were so many noises, and a good amount of them all specific to the location where they took place. I heard things like echos in a large empty hall, the dings and mechanical scrapings of an elevator, and women in heels walking and rustling their papers. Without saying anything else, even hearing those three composites of sound give an idea of where I was at the time. 

I felt nervous about not seeing anything, but at the same time I found myself being able to recognize where I was. I had never realized how aware my own mind was of what each room, each building, or each spot on campus sounds like. As a future film maker, I can see how helpful being aware of sound is to pull an audience into the story. I know that each aspect of film, whether fiction or non-, is there to add to the story. Having such a 21st Century mind, however, has slowly lessened my cognition of sound as a part of storytelling.

Certain sounds have an effect on us that often we don't even notice. For instance, hearing the footsteps echo through the hall reminded me of walking through the Grecian statue halls in the National Museum of Art, blinded by my father's arm. The sound of the elevator doors reminded me first of all the times I had accompanied my father as a chaplain making hospital visits. Then my mind flashed over to jumping in hotel elevators as a child. The doors opened and suddenly I was back on campus, hearing the sounds of administrators walk by. Despite knowing exactly where I was, I felt almost as if I was in a huge office building in New York City. So many memories filled my head, that new stories compiled themselves, and yet all the time, my mind wrote the story of where I really was and where I had been since the blindfold had been placed over my eyes. 

Sculpture Hall, National Gallery of Art, National Mall, Washington D.C.

It was a challenge to listen consciously. I think so much of our time is spent listening without thinking, that when we do listen, our own world, or even our own room, seems strange to us. The only way to really listen well is to, like anything else, practice listening well. As humans, we are not aware of our own world as I believe we once were. There is such a disconnect between humans and the world around us. As storytellers, I think we have a huge responsibility to reconnect people with the world they live in.

 In all reality, one sound can have so many different meanings, and evoke so many different emotions. These possibilities increase exponentially when the sounds combine and intermingle. So, just as God created each person different, with their own voice, each place on earth has its own ambient sound.

Katherine Swanson

Film Student

Northwest University