Does the sound of the rain or the wind in the leaves soothe you? Are you looking for these moods? After the economy was put on hold during the first months of the pandemic, the soundscape of cities has completely changed. Suddenly, the incessant background noise of vehicles died down. More tenuous sounds reappeared, like the song of birds or the sound of the wind.
Holiday trips are opportunities to change the soundscape, to bathe in a totally different texture of sounds: the waves of the sea rolling the pebbles on the shore, the water leaping in the rapids of a river, the echo of the long lament of the loons on a peaceful lake in the middle of the mountains… these are inspiring soundscapes that we rediscover with joy.
For my part, I who grew up in the countryside, the summers of my childhood were lulled by the joyful music of the Bobolink and the little piercing cries of barn swallows. Today, when I hear the bobolink’s cascade of metallic sounds, my heart capsizes and I see summers lived in the middle of the fields. I also remember a friend in love with gardens who chose to plant such a tree according to the particular sound produced by the wind in its leaves. It is obvious that the wind in the tall pines is totally different from that in the small round leaves of the aspen. You still have to listen to it.
The soundscape is not a far-fetched concept. The term “soundscape” (soundscape in English) was invented by Canadian composer, ecologist and theorist Raymond Murray Schafer in 1977 in his book The Tuning of the World (The Soundscape)which was translated into French under the title The soundscape. The whole story of our sound environment through the ages. This work quickly earned him international recognition and drew attention to the impact of the soundscape on our well-being and mental health.
Even if we give it little importance, the soundscape is part of our daily lives in the same way as the visual landscapes. When I lived in an old neighborhood of Montreal, the incessant renovation work coming from everywhere filled my desensitized ears from Monday to Sunday. Today, I would find these noises unbearable. Since I moved back to the countryside, it’s not always a bucolic atmosphere either. The sound of saws and that of mowers are very present in my soundscape, because the grounds are large. Luckily that’s not the majority of the time. And winter is heaven for my ears.
Many of us will be traveling overseas this summer. We will discover that each city has its sound particularities, starting with the spoken accents. Rome is not Paris. Switzerland is not Morocco. Day is not night. For example, the Portuguese spoken in Brazil is particularly musical. The first time I landed at Rio airport, I discovered this linguistic music with fascination. The whole airport was full of them. At that moment I said to myself that I was going to learn to speak this language one day. This musicality is part of the warmth of human contact in this culture and has fostered the emergence of a unique musical wealth in the world. Today, when I hear a Brazilian speak, not only do I recognize the accent right away, but it automatically brings me back to all the people I met during this trip.
In Switzerland, grazing cows wear bells of different tones around their necks. In the countryside where I live, I am almost a neighbor of a Swiss family that owns a large farm. It perpetuates the tradition of hanging bells around the necks of cows grazing in the fields. However, this is no longer necessary given the presence of fences around the pasture. For this family, this sound texture must be reassuring, because it reconnects them to their native country. Some evenings, when the wind is favourable, I hear this ringing that rocks my evenings.
You cannot escape the soundscape unless you are deaf. You have to live with it or change location. It is usually polluted by those people who are unaware of it, just as much as it is by the demands of our way of life. Gas-powered vehicles, tools of all kinds contribute to this. But is it necessary to put music everywhere? Can we protect places, natural spaces recognized for the unique character of their sound environment, in the same way that we choose to protect landscapes remarkable for their beauty or their heritage character? This is certainly another subject for reflection. And what about olfactory landscapes?