This year, I decided to change up the sound design project in the middle of DIGA 365. As part of their introduction to modular synthesizers, I asked students to create an original sound design for a robot at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. I started with source video from some home movies in the public domain. I wanted students to get inspiration from other examples, a got some great recommendations from people on Twitter. Before creating their own projects, students researched the following robots & the creators behind their sound design:
Audio field recording is an activity that involves taking equipment out into environments, whether natural or urban, to capture sound. It is an activity that can capture the rare vocalizations of individual species, like oystercatchers and lapwings. It can also capture the sound of a place, or its soundscape. These soundscapes can be an important tool for understanding the unique elements of a location and how the local environment evolves over time, a practice that is often called acoustic ecology. Acoustic ecology is an interdisciplinary topic that draws on music, acoustics, geography, environmental studies, and so many others, which makes it a great vehicle for engaging different parts of the university in conversation.
After six months spent recording in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, I have a much better understanding of why its coastal soundscapes so special. Thanks to my Fulbright, I was able to visit dozens of sites managed by a variety of organizations (NatureScot, Scottish Forestry, National Trust, RSPB, and others) around northeast Scotland and captured over 34 hours of audio. I also captured the soundscape of many places with very few visitors (and sometimes none), because I was often ready to visit as soon as they opened from any lockdown restrictions. I will be leaving Scotland with over 90 gigabytes of audio recordings, and also agreed to leave a copy of this data with my counterparts on the faculty at the University of Aberdeen.
A map of Scotland with blue pins representing each place I recorded. There is a dense cluster around Aberdeen, with other pins scattered throughout the Cairngorms and on the North Coast near Thurso.
My primary collaborator on the Aberdeen faculty has been Dr. Suk-Jun Kim, who I have actually known for about 20 years. He spent four years living in Gainesville to do his doctoral work at the University of Florida, about 2 hours drive from where I teach at Stetson University. I was born and raised in Florida and spent most of my working years there, so I am very familiar with the state and its coastal soundscapes. Now that I have spent six months living in Aberdeen, we have this unique connection as professors in the same discipline familiar with both Florida and Scotland. It would be a shame not to continue to collaborate and capitalize on that connection.
Dr. Kim and I have discussed a framework for continuing the collaboration between Stetson and Aberdeen, and we both agree that getting our students involved is essential. Neither campus currently has a course in acoustic ecology, so we have a blank slate. When I first wrote my Fulbright proposal, I had dreamed that it might be possible to eventually use my research and experience in Scotland to design a travel course. It would be something that would allow me to first study a topic with Stetson students on campus and then lead them on a short-term visit to Aberdeen that puts theory into practice. Prior to the pandemic, these were popular offerings at my institution and really helped get students thinking globally about significant challenges, like our collective environmental responsibilities. Since the pandemic, the immediate future for these types of learning experiences is unclear. Things like quarantines and COVID testing add to the already complicated logistics. So we’re hesitant to begin planning something like this until the restrictions on travel become more relaxed.
Because it will be a difficult climate for travel courses in the immediate future, we brainstormed a bit and thought we could instead leverage online learning to connect our campuses. Both institutions are more comfortable with these technologies since the pandemic essentially forced their mass adoption, so why not leverage these tools to foster international exchange? Our idea is to embed online meetings between our students into new courses that we each teach for our respective campuses. Students in Aberdeen and Florida could discuss readings and issues that explore the topic of acoustic ecology together. They could also return to specific sites that I recorded this past year and report on how the soundscape may have changed, which would help form the basis for long-term monitoring of how both places are evolving. We also want both courses to be open to students from any discipline, which would enhance the diversity of perspectives on this issue. It’s going to be a challenge, but if it works, it will mean this Fulbright experience has set the foundation for some exciting long-term, interdisciplinary collaboration in acoustic ecology.
Because the creative outcome from Canaveral ended up being significantly larger than I originally planned, I felt justified focussing my time in Scotland more on collection of material and field work. As I was fond telling people, “the one thing I can’t do back in Florida is record Scotland.” It was certainly an adventure collecting the sound of species like guillemots and gannets that I would never encounter back home. My plan is to head back to Florida with my treasure trove of Scotland recordings and figure out something creative to do with them when time permits. Even though I am happy with what I personally achieved in Scotland, I left with a palpable desire to return to Scotland when circumstances are more normal to explore the soundscape again and enjoy a few more face-to-face conversations with the wonderful people I met along the way.
I posed for this photo after capturing the soundscape at Fowlsheugh Cliffs. Over 100,000 seabirds nest on these cliffs facing the North Sea, causing them to look white and providing a complex soundscape of overlapping bird calls.
Sign for the University of Aberdeen at the campus entrance on King Street.
Frankly, planning to move a family to the United Kingdom in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic was overwhelming. The immigration offices were working with a skeleton crew, an airline cancelled one of our scheduled flights, and the rules seemed to change every few days. Once we arrived, we were faced with the reality that Scotland’s national lockdown was far more restrictive than Florida’s equivalent measures. It meant that very few businesses were open and we were confined to the city limits. Although the many hours stuck in our apartment have been mentally taxing, we were thankful for the many spaces for outdoor exercise without leaving the city.
While here in Aberdeen, I am co-teaching their Digital Musicianship course (a required for all music majors) with Dr. Suk-Jun Kim and two doctoral students. My first lecture was about basic principles of acoustics and hearing, topics that cover frequently in my own courses (and with the Young Sound Seekers). My second lecture was a survey of instrument builders in the 20th century, which allowed me to revisit my love of electronic music history. To supplement that topic, I built a 43-minute playlist on YouTube and a 47-minute playlist on Spotify with examples that others may enjoy. In addition to delivering my own lectures, I have enjoyed working with the doctoral students to support their lectures and help them better prepare them for a career in academia.
A map of Seaton Park found on signs within the park.
During the lockdown, I have focussed my field recording efforts on Seaton Park, a public park close to the university’s main campus. It’s a park with a varied history that I am learning about through online and library resources, and by connecting with the Friends of Seaton Park. The fact that academic buildings and residential halls are on opposite sides of the park’s boundaries means that students are frequently found passing through its 67 acres. Even in lockdown, outdoor exercise is considered an essential activity, so many people have been using the park as a place to escape for a bit of fresh air. But it’s wooded location on the River Don close to where it meets the North Sea also means there is wide variety of birds that frequent the park, including swans and oystercatchers. The park also extends a short ways down the river to the Donmouth Local Nature Reserve, another spot where people can go to be in closer contact with nature.
Now that COVID numbers in Scotland have improved and the lockdown restrictions are easing, I have begun to explore additional locations that are beyond the city limits. If you want to follow my progress, I’ll be posting on Twitter and Instagram throughout my time in Scotland. However, I feel sure that Seaton Park will feature prominently in whatever scholarly or creative project results from my time in Scotland. We’ll see what the next few months brings!
Looking out from the banks of the River Don in Seaton Park.
Looking out into the North Sea from the beach in Donmouth Local Nature Reserve.
Between all my recent projects focussed on field recording and acoustic ecology, I also continued my collaborations with Zürich-based composer Virgil Moorefield. I have known Virgil for over 20 years now, with our relationship dating back to when he was one of my professors in graduate school. It’s been nice to work with someone for that long as we continue to grow creatively, both as individuals and through our collaborations.
Work on this latest project began just before the COVID pandemic. He was working on a new composition called The Boat of Queen Mutemwia, inspired by a statue he had seen while visiting the British Museum. My role was developing a live visual instrument that allows for video panels to be “played” in real-time during performance like a musical instrument.
Designing the instrument used my extensive experience with Cycling’74 Max, but also required me to learn some new programming techniques in TouchDesigner. It will be interesting to see if I can bring some of this knowledge back into my teaching when I work with students on intermedia projects in the future.
Although the concert was initially delayed in hopes that we could have a live audience, it instead had to move forward as a livestream event only in April 2021. I couldn’t be there in person like we originally planned, since international travel out of Scotland was severely restricted and would have required long quarantine times on both ends of the trip. Despite this challenge, I still provided technical support to the team in Zürich from Aberdeen right up to the concert date using file sharing and frequent video calls.
Virgil and I are both extremely happy with the resulting 15-minute work, which can still be viewed on YouTube here:
Toward the end of my recent residency at Canaveral, Eve Payor and I collaborated to record the sunrise from the top of Turtle Mound. It’s a continuous take lasting 1 hour, 15 minutes, perfect for active or passive enjoyment. Beautiful colors fill the sky and birds start vocalizing around 40 minutes in. Enjoy!
As a native of Central Florida, I’ve made countless trips to the beaches in Volusia and Brevard counties throughout my life. But my 2020 residency for the ACA Soundscape Field Station transformed the purpose of those “beach days”. From May to November, I made 17 trips to the Canaveral National Seashore and recorded over 100 hours of audio. That material provided a deep reservoir for developing a solo exhibition of sound art presented in December at the ACA Harris House Gallery.
Each piece in the exhibition provided a different path to spend time engaging with the Canaveral Soundscape. The works all take time to unfold, much like a natural soundscape. These long durations allow visitors to hear something new each time they give one of them a few minutes of attention.
The following 7-minute video provides an overview of the exhibition:
Additional excerpts and documentation can be found at the following links:
It’s really satisfying to see something you’ve written published, especially when it is released in a beautifully designed and printed book. I recently received my copy of Sound and Environment, a book edited by Jan Krtička & Pavel Mrkus. It assembles contributions from the 2019 gathering of CENSE where I presented about DeLeon Springs. Very happy with the way this turned out and grateful to be published alongside these artists and scholars.
Here’s a few pictures of my essay and the photo collection in the book:
Cover of the book.First page of my essay entitled “DeLeon Soundscape Project”.A photo collage of DeLeon Springs and some of my field recording process.
In Fall 2020, I collaborated with Atlantic Center for the Arts on the launch of Young Sound Seekers. This new community outreach program creates opportunities for blind and partially-sighted youth to learn about natural soundscapes and audio field recording at Canaveral National Seashore. I serve as co-director of the program with Eve Payor, ACA Director of Community Programs. We make monthly excursions to the park with the kids and use that time to teach them about the soundscape.
Teaching students about audio field recording on the steps of the historic Eldora State House.
My role has been primarily to develop curriculum that teaches the kids how to talk about sounds. We’ve covered key concepts from acoustics like loudness and frequency, and introduced helpful soundscape vocabulary like biophony, geophony, and anthrophony. We’ve also learned together about specific sound sources that are heard at Canaveral, like calls from bird species found in the park. The kids have been eager students of this material, and for most of them, our excursions were their first time visiting a national park. I have really enjoyed getting to know them through these experiences at the park.
Young Sound Seekers is supported by a five-year grant from the Natural Sounds and Night Skies Division of the National Park Service, so we have some generous support to keep building on these early experiences. Representatives from the local park and national offices have also been great partners to work with throughout the early development of this program.
Silhouettes of students & chaperones with the SpaceX rocket launch overhead in the distance.
submerged was a sound installation commissioned by James Pearson for an exhibition at the Hand Art Center in September and October of 2020.
When I was invited to create a sound piece that would complement the photography of Bruce Mozert and Alexander Diaz in this exhibit, I was immediately reminded of those hours spent listening beneath the surface of DeLeon Springs. During my many visits, I captured many hydrophone recordings punctuated by passing swimmers and joyful splashes. Occasionally, sounds from above the surface, like conversations between people or the roar of powerful engines, leak into these underwater recordings. The faint crackle of shells churning in the waters of the spring boil, a constant part of the underwater soundscape at DeLeon Springs, is heard throughout.
The selections in this exhibit are presented on three independent loops on single speakers. Once set in motion, their varied durations ensure that the sounds will continually recombine in unique ways for the next 58 days.
Special thanks to James Pearson for curating this group exhibition, and to Alexander Diaz and Monroe Family Collection for permission to include their photographs in this video documentation.
I am already making regular visits for audio field recordings and sharing some through social media. Follow me on Twitter or Instagram for occasional samples of the Canaveral soundscape like this one:
