I am now at the point of mixing the sounds and the interviews in order to produce Sonic Wallpapers.
Today I am working on the design that inspired the recordings in the BDA Museum, and some of the recordings in Barnet Museum. The accession number for this wallpaper is BADDA 4386. I'd be really interested to hear what you think the design looks like, based on the sounds...
...based on what people said about BADDA 4386, the sounds of pearls and vintage dental instruments have been recorded and layered to create a specific kind of sonic texture. I have mixed down one minute of sections purely comprised of sounds, so that you can hear the field-recordings mixed together without the words. You'll notice a kind of low-level hum which fades in and out of the other sounds; this hum is the sound in MoDA's study room, and is comprised I think of air-conditioning, electronic circuitry, and computing equipment. If I do not use this sound as a texture beneath the interviews, there is a very hard sound as the recordings of people speaking enter and leave the mix...
...this little section of background noise acts like a kind of sticky plaster, which can be used to match the joins between pure field-recordings and people speaking in a room which is not completely silent.
Because the inherent soundscape of MoDA is both noisy and quite bassy, and because all of the imaginative associations with this wallpaper were contrastingly light and delicate, I did some things that I do not normally do; I processed the interviews to try and remove some of the background noise; I added a very tiny quantity of artifical reverb to evoke the sense of being in a shinier space (like the one referred to by interviewees in the discussions about this design); and I used the graphic equalising tool in Adobe Audition to very slightly accentuate the higher frequencies. The decision to process the sounds in this way was led by my not being very happy with the relationship between the delicate associations and imagery evoked by the interviewees, and the monotonous bassy traces of the MoDA study room in the final audio. I hope I have not processed the sounds into feeling too alien, and that the acoustics of MoDA and the natural voices of interviewees remain. Have a listen to this first example, and let me know what you think about the effects of the processing on the piece overall; I'd love any feedback on the work I have done here.
I also produced a second version of this Sonic Wallpaper design, in which the field-recordings have been layered slightly more densely, so that the references - to pearls, to antiquity, to time, to the dentist, to teeth - are emphasised. Can you hear the differences between the two recordings, and which one do you prefer? To my ears, the encoding process which Audioboo uses has given the files a slightly lossy, mp3-esque nastiness, but other than that I am quite happy with the results.
If you leave a comment, would you mind noting what you are listening through - i.e. studio monitors, headphones, (what make?!) PC speakers, laptop speakers etc.
Thank You for listening, and stay tuned for forthcoming Sonic Wallpapers!
Monday, 23 April 2012
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Listening at the Aquatic Design Centre
As well as recording in the Aquarium at the Horniman Museum, I decided that I wanted to record some more domestic sounds - i.e. the sound of the kinds of aquariums one might have at home - to link with the fish-themed wallpaper which I mentioned in this post. The Aquatic Design Centre folks were extremely accommodating and kindly allowed me to stick hydrophones into their tanks, and to tinker in their amazing, watery, Aladdin's Cave of aquariums for a few hours recording sounds.
I found it slightly harder to record in the Aquatic Design Centre than in the Horniman Museum, because the fish tanks are much smaller, and the C-series hydrophones are designed to float rather than sink in the water. Nonetheless, I managed to get the hydrophones submerged enough to hear a large variety of burbling filtration systems and tiny, tiny fish sounds.
The highlight of the visit for me was watching the clownfish. Clownfish are protected from predators in the ocean by the stinging tentacles of the anemone, and in one of the tanks at the Aquatic Design Centre, two little black and white clownfish took it in turns to rub themselves all over an anemone. I fancied I could hear the tiny sounds of this action within the recording, but there is a lot of environmental noise which makes it difficult to hear for certain.
As one of the hydrophones picked up a lot of noise from the air and the surrounding shop, I stripped the sound of it from the recording, and so this is a mono-recording from the one hydrophone that I could get closest to the clown fish. I think there are some nice delicate sounds in this recording, although I am surprised by how much noise from the shop can be heard underwater in this fish tank.
Here is another recording I think also of the clownfish, but this time with a pair of hydrophones and less background chatter!
If you are ever near Great Portland Street, I can thoroughly recommend going to the design centre to see all the amazing fish and to listen to all the watery sounds. Is it just me, or is there something just lovely about watching fish moving around in the water?
I found it slightly harder to record in the Aquatic Design Centre than in the Horniman Museum, because the fish tanks are much smaller, and the C-series hydrophones are designed to float rather than sink in the water. Nonetheless, I managed to get the hydrophones submerged enough to hear a large variety of burbling filtration systems and tiny, tiny fish sounds.
The highlight of the visit for me was watching the clownfish. Clownfish are protected from predators in the ocean by the stinging tentacles of the anemone, and in one of the tanks at the Aquatic Design Centre, two little black and white clownfish took it in turns to rub themselves all over an anemone. I fancied I could hear the tiny sounds of this action within the recording, but there is a lot of environmental noise which makes it difficult to hear for certain.
As one of the hydrophones picked up a lot of noise from the air and the surrounding shop, I stripped the sound of it from the recording, and so this is a mono-recording from the one hydrophone that I could get closest to the clown fish. I think there are some nice delicate sounds in this recording, although I am surprised by how much noise from the shop can be heard underwater in this fish tank.
Here is another recording I think also of the clownfish, but this time with a pair of hydrophones and less background chatter!
If you are ever near Great Portland Street, I can thoroughly recommend going to the design centre to see all the amazing fish and to listen to all the watery sounds. Is it just me, or is there something just lovely about watching fish moving around in the water?
Listening underwater
One of the wallpapers which featured in the Sonic Wallpaper interviews has fish on it. These are some of the things people said about the wallpaper design:
Listening through to these interviews, I felt that one recording required for a Sonic Wallpaper piece to accompany this paper must be the sounds of fish. Where better to start with recording the sounds of fish than in the Horniman Museum, lowering hydrophones down into the amazing aquarium tanks there, in order to listen underwater?
I had always assumed or imagined that you would be able to hear fish moving underwater, but I was completely wrong in this assumption, because fish are in fact very quiet. Luckily, Jamie Craggs - who is the curator for the Horniman Museum Aquarium - knows more about fish sounds than I do, and he was able to point me in the right direction re: listening underwater. He explained to me that the noisiest two tanks would probably be the Fijan Reef tank and the British Shore tank. There are different varieties of wrasse in both of these tanks, which make a clicking sound with their jaws.
For making my recordings, I used a pair of JrF C-series hydrophones with a FOSTEX FR-2LE.
The first recording was made in the Fijan Reef tank. There are some very tiny blips and blops which you can hear; I am not completely clear whether these sounds are produced by the fish, or by the filtration system which manages the conditions inside the tank. I think it is most likely that when the fish were fed, the food landing on the surface of the water produced these nice, watery sounds.
The sounds of wrasse clicking are very subtle, but I think that is what you can hear in this recording, which was created in the British Shore tank. This tank contains Goldsinny wrasse and Cuckoo wrasse, and the fish below, which I have been unable to identify!
I also noticed whilst at the Horniman Museum, that there was an extremely fine lobster in one of the tanks. Apparently she has just moulted - hence the amazing, pale blue colour of her body in this photo.
I had to put my hydrophones into the tank with her, just to see if it was possible to hear anything, but in spite of her formidable pincers (she did look at one stage a little bit too interested in the hydrophones) she was very quiet and most of what you can hear in this recording is just the burblings of the water filtration system, and the water feature which simulates the tide rushing in and out of a rockpool in the tank.
Finally, I just left the hydrophones inside the Fijan Reef tank for a while, to see what could be heard if the fish were undisturbed for a long period of time.
I discern some tiny blips and pops in this recording, which I think might be created by the fish in that tank; what do you hear?
Thanks to the Horniman Museum for all the help with recording these aquatic sounds!
Fishes!
It’s very sweet… they look like they’re having a good time.
Bathroom. It’s in the bathroom, definitely. I know it’s difficult to put wallpaper in a bathroom, but it would look great.
I really feel… whenever I look at it, I would be very happy. The fish just have such funny little expressions on their faces; they almost look human - like they’re talking to each other and telling each other stories. And it’s just so vibrant as well, with the weeds in the background being very abstract and sort of splattered all over the place… you can just imagine them swimming around, darting around and playing with each other.
That is such fun. And the detail! I love the colours… I just think that is so playful. I would love that in a bathroom. Or a cloakroom.
Do you think they’re mackerel? I think they’re mackerel or sardines.
I think it would be really funny to have it in your living room, because it would be like having a huge aquarium. Even though the fish don’t move.
Listening through to these interviews, I felt that one recording required for a Sonic Wallpaper piece to accompany this paper must be the sounds of fish. Where better to start with recording the sounds of fish than in the Horniman Museum, lowering hydrophones down into the amazing aquarium tanks there, in order to listen underwater?
I had always assumed or imagined that you would be able to hear fish moving underwater, but I was completely wrong in this assumption, because fish are in fact very quiet. Luckily, Jamie Craggs - who is the curator for the Horniman Museum Aquarium - knows more about fish sounds than I do, and he was able to point me in the right direction re: listening underwater. He explained to me that the noisiest two tanks would probably be the Fijan Reef tank and the British Shore tank. There are different varieties of wrasse in both of these tanks, which make a clicking sound with their jaws.
For making my recordings, I used a pair of JrF C-series hydrophones with a FOSTEX FR-2LE.
The first recording was made in the Fijan Reef tank. There are some very tiny blips and blops which you can hear; I am not completely clear whether these sounds are produced by the fish, or by the filtration system which manages the conditions inside the tank. I think it is most likely that when the fish were fed, the food landing on the surface of the water produced these nice, watery sounds.
The sounds of wrasse clicking are very subtle, but I think that is what you can hear in this recording, which was created in the British Shore tank. This tank contains Goldsinny wrasse and Cuckoo wrasse, and the fish below, which I have been unable to identify!
I also noticed whilst at the Horniman Museum, that there was an extremely fine lobster in one of the tanks. Apparently she has just moulted - hence the amazing, pale blue colour of her body in this photo.
I had to put my hydrophones into the tank with her, just to see if it was possible to hear anything, but in spite of her formidable pincers (she did look at one stage a little bit too interested in the hydrophones) she was very quiet and most of what you can hear in this recording is just the burblings of the water filtration system, and the water feature which simulates the tide rushing in and out of a rockpool in the tank.
Finally, I just left the hydrophones inside the Fijan Reef tank for a while, to see what could be heard if the fish were undisturbed for a long period of time.
I discern some tiny blips and pops in this recording, which I think might be created by the fish in that tank; what do you hear?
Thanks to the Horniman Museum for all the help with recording these aquatic sounds!
Thursday, 29 March 2012
Listening at Barnet Museum
Barnet Museum is a treasure trove of artefacts detailing local life in Barnet. It was opened in March 1938 at 31 Wood Street to house the collection of the Barnet & District Local History Society, and is situated in a wonderfully creaky old Georgian building. From the moment you enter through it's squeaky front door, you feel you are stepping back in time.
Many of the objects in the collection are domestic, and looking through them is rather like looking at some of the MoDA wallpapers in that they are simultaneously very ordinary, yet also nostalgic and evocative. One senses the presence of past lives and modest dreams in this collection of fashions from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; glittering costume jewellery from the middle of the last century; old cooking implements; military wares; food packets; spinning wheels and arcane technologies...
...Best of all from my point of view, Barnet Museum is full of amazing sounds.
Even the silence in Barnet Museum feels old, because of the way that the passing traffic very gently rattles the glass in the window-panes, and because of the quiet yet persistent sound of the ticking Grandfather clock which presides over the first room that you enter.
...the clock has a beautiful chime, captured perfectly here by a contact microphone attached to its outer case.
I was interested in finding something which would help me to embellish a comment one interviewee made about a wallpaper reminding them of maths, and Mike Jordan - the chairman at Barnet Museum - was able to provide me with an amazing, vintage calculator which makes some wonderfully clunky, mathematical sounds. These kinds of calculators were apparently in production between from the 1930s into the 1960s; can you imagine how it must have sounded in buildings where a lot of calculations had to be made? I created two recordings of the vintage calculator; one using a contact microphone and one using a stereo shotgun microphone. It is quite interesting to compare the two; to my ears the contact microphone recording sounds far more mechanistic, whereas the stereo shotgun microphone recording contains more atmosphere and more of a sense of a human being operating the technology. What do you think? Does it sound like maths to you?
Vintage Calculator in the collection at Barnet Museum, photographed by Felicity Ford with the kind permission of Barnet Museum
The other thing which I really wanted to record in the Barnet Museum collection, is the specific sound of pearls gliding one over the other inside a jewellery box, as the idea of an older lady sorting through her costume jewellery was one of the fantasies inspired by looking at MoDA's wallpaper collection during the interview stage of this project.
Costume Jewellery in the collection at Barnet Museum, photographed by Felicity Ford with the kind permission of Barnet Museum
Again, I tried recording the specific texture of pearls and costume jewellery using a contact microphone and a shotgun stereo microphone, because I think that both of these approaches yield different results re: the sonic qualities of pearls.
Many thanks to all at the Barnet Museum for helping me to assemble this creaky, shiny, squeaky old collection of recordings, and for showing me the wonderful treasure trove of local history in your Museum.
Many of the objects in the collection are domestic, and looking through them is rather like looking at some of the MoDA wallpapers in that they are simultaneously very ordinary, yet also nostalgic and evocative. One senses the presence of past lives and modest dreams in this collection of fashions from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; glittering costume jewellery from the middle of the last century; old cooking implements; military wares; food packets; spinning wheels and arcane technologies...
...Best of all from my point of view, Barnet Museum is full of amazing sounds.
Even the silence in Barnet Museum feels old, because of the way that the passing traffic very gently rattles the glass in the window-panes, and because of the quiet yet persistent sound of the ticking Grandfather clock which presides over the first room that you enter.
...the clock has a beautiful chime, captured perfectly here by a contact microphone attached to its outer case.
I was interested in finding something which would help me to embellish a comment one interviewee made about a wallpaper reminding them of maths, and Mike Jordan - the chairman at Barnet Museum - was able to provide me with an amazing, vintage calculator which makes some wonderfully clunky, mathematical sounds. These kinds of calculators were apparently in production between from the 1930s into the 1960s; can you imagine how it must have sounded in buildings where a lot of calculations had to be made? I created two recordings of the vintage calculator; one using a contact microphone and one using a stereo shotgun microphone. It is quite interesting to compare the two; to my ears the contact microphone recording sounds far more mechanistic, whereas the stereo shotgun microphone recording contains more atmosphere and more of a sense of a human being operating the technology. What do you think? Does it sound like maths to you?
Vintage Calculator in the collection at Barnet Museum, photographed by Felicity Ford with the kind permission of Barnet Museum
The other thing which I really wanted to record in the Barnet Museum collection, is the specific sound of pearls gliding one over the other inside a jewellery box, as the idea of an older lady sorting through her costume jewellery was one of the fantasies inspired by looking at MoDA's wallpaper collection during the interview stage of this project.
Costume Jewellery in the collection at Barnet Museum, photographed by Felicity Ford with the kind permission of Barnet Museum
Again, I tried recording the specific texture of pearls and costume jewellery using a contact microphone and a shotgun stereo microphone, because I think that both of these approaches yield different results re: the sonic qualities of pearls.
Many thanks to all at the Barnet Museum for helping me to assemble this creaky, shiny, squeaky old collection of recordings, and for showing me the wonderful treasure trove of local history in your Museum.
Monday, 26 March 2012
Listening at the Handweaver's Studio
One of the things which folk mentioned several times in relation to the MoDA wallpapers used throughout this project was weaving.
Weaving came up in the Sonic Wallpaper interviews both in a fantastical sense - "if I had that wallpaper in a room, I'd want to use the room for weaving" - and in relation to the textures of some of the wallpaper samples - "that looks woven".
Given that walls were hung with woollen coverings and then tapestries long before the invention of wallpaper, plus these references to weaving in the interviews I conducted, it seemed utterly appropriate to record the sounds of weaving for this project.
This is a recording made at The Handweaver's Studio in London, where Wendy Morris kindly agreed to demonstrate the sounds of some of the looms for me. This recording was created using a contact microphone, attached to a small table loom in the studio.
I don't know about you, but I find the repetitive nature of weaving to be somehow analogous with the visual repetition inherent in wallpaper designs... there is something about the way one's eye travels over a wallpaper pattern searching to understand a pattern-repeat which can be maddening and pleasing at once. I associate this sensation also with repetitive sounds such as clocks, looms, spinning wheels, and even knitting (although knitting is extremely quiet). The more complex the repetition is in a visual design, the more absorbing the process of unpicking its intricacies, and so it is with sound - at least to my ears.
I have recorded looms previously, and was specifically interested in capturing quite a detailed sound for the purposes of one particular Sonic Wallpaper design. I wanted something with a lot of wood in the sound (a warmth which you don't get with cast iron or steel); with the detail of many different moving parts, but perhaps without the din of a large, industrial mill (though I am coveting such a sound for another Sonic Wallpaper design); and with the handmade rhythm of a skilled weaver at work, rather than with the mechanised rhythms of a machine churning out cloth at a perfectly engineered, precise tempo.
You may remember that I spoke in my post about Cole & Sons of the timing of the printer as he registered each section of a screen-printed wallpaper design? To my mind the sounds of artisans at work possess an even, practised, rhythmic quality, (printing a piece of wallpaper; weaving a piece of cloth) yet those same sounds also bear traces of the human body. You can hear when the movements of a maker's arms and legs become fatigued, or when a pause in the maker's thought-process temporarily stills the movements of making.
In some of the older wallpapers in the MoDA collection, the physical traces of hand-making can also be seen. Hand-printed sheets sometimes do not match the precision of machine-applied ink for evenness of coating, as may be seen in these close-ups of a wallpaper designed by Edward Bawden and colour-printed from lino blocks by Cole & Son in the late 1930s.
Wallpaper © Museum of Domestic Design & Architecture, Middlesex University – photographed by Felicity Ford
However the trace of the maker which is sometimes visible in wallpapers such as these is undeniably part of their charm. Without exception, everyone I interviewed about the wallpapers cited their slightly handmade qualities as being desirable.
Do handmade objects specifically appeal to us because they bear the traces of having been touched by another person? Certainly in terms of sounds, I am especially "attracted" to sounds which bear such traces. That is why I approached The Handweaver's Studio for the purposes of this project. I was sure that this incredible repository of everything required for weaving cloth would yield precisely the detailed sounds which I required. I went to The Handweaver's Studio in search of the sense of an organic, human, rhythm which would reflect the handmade, repetitious nature of the wallpaper design, and my quest was fruitful!
Wendy Morris is the current custodian of The Handweaver's Studio. It was very busy when I visited, and the only way to hear any of the the looms above the chatter of folks and the clatter of looms was via a contact microphone. As well as the table loom described above, Wendy also demonstrated a floor loom for me in The Handweaver's Studio.
I noticed that the sound in this floor loom was very springy, and Wendy explained that her own loom is even springier. She also explained that in order to really capture the sound of a shuttle moving back and forward between the sheds, we'd need to go to her home and record her own loom. Next, Wendy very kindly took me to her home and demonstrated her 12 shaft countermarch floor loom for me.
I recorded Wendy weaving first of all using a contact microphone, but since it was so wonderfully peaceful and quiet in her weaving room, I was also able to make a couple of recordings with my stereo shotgun microphone, in which there is a much greater sense of acoustics, atmosphere, and space.
This is the cloth that Wendy is weaving in the sound recordings here. It's made of silk and lurex, and is of Wendy's own design. While it is on the loom being woven, it must necessarily lie flat, but once it comes off the loom, it pleats itself because of the structure of the weave.
Woven fabric © Wendy Morris, photographed by Felicity Ford with kind permission
Woven fabric © Wendy Morris, photographed by Felicity Ford with kind permission
Woven fabric © Wendy Morris, photographed by Felicity Ford with kind permission
Many thanks to Wendy Morris and The Handweaver's Studio for giving these amazing sounds to the Sonic Wallpaper project.
Weaving came up in the Sonic Wallpaper interviews both in a fantastical sense - "if I had that wallpaper in a room, I'd want to use the room for weaving" - and in relation to the textures of some of the wallpaper samples - "that looks woven".
Given that walls were hung with woollen coverings and then tapestries long before the invention of wallpaper, plus these references to weaving in the interviews I conducted, it seemed utterly appropriate to record the sounds of weaving for this project.
This is a recording made at The Handweaver's Studio in London, where Wendy Morris kindly agreed to demonstrate the sounds of some of the looms for me. This recording was created using a contact microphone, attached to a small table loom in the studio.
I don't know about you, but I find the repetitive nature of weaving to be somehow analogous with the visual repetition inherent in wallpaper designs... there is something about the way one's eye travels over a wallpaper pattern searching to understand a pattern-repeat which can be maddening and pleasing at once. I associate this sensation also with repetitive sounds such as clocks, looms, spinning wheels, and even knitting (although knitting is extremely quiet). The more complex the repetition is in a visual design, the more absorbing the process of unpicking its intricacies, and so it is with sound - at least to my ears.
I have recorded looms previously, and was specifically interested in capturing quite a detailed sound for the purposes of one particular Sonic Wallpaper design. I wanted something with a lot of wood in the sound (a warmth which you don't get with cast iron or steel); with the detail of many different moving parts, but perhaps without the din of a large, industrial mill (though I am coveting such a sound for another Sonic Wallpaper design); and with the handmade rhythm of a skilled weaver at work, rather than with the mechanised rhythms of a machine churning out cloth at a perfectly engineered, precise tempo.
You may remember that I spoke in my post about Cole & Sons of the timing of the printer as he registered each section of a screen-printed wallpaper design? To my mind the sounds of artisans at work possess an even, practised, rhythmic quality, (printing a piece of wallpaper; weaving a piece of cloth) yet those same sounds also bear traces of the human body. You can hear when the movements of a maker's arms and legs become fatigued, or when a pause in the maker's thought-process temporarily stills the movements of making.
In some of the older wallpapers in the MoDA collection, the physical traces of hand-making can also be seen. Hand-printed sheets sometimes do not match the precision of machine-applied ink for evenness of coating, as may be seen in these close-ups of a wallpaper designed by Edward Bawden and colour-printed from lino blocks by Cole & Son in the late 1930s.
Wallpaper © Museum of Domestic Design & Architecture, Middlesex University – photographed by Felicity Ford
However the trace of the maker which is sometimes visible in wallpapers such as these is undeniably part of their charm. Without exception, everyone I interviewed about the wallpapers cited their slightly handmade qualities as being desirable.
Do handmade objects specifically appeal to us because they bear the traces of having been touched by another person? Certainly in terms of sounds, I am especially "attracted" to sounds which bear such traces. That is why I approached The Handweaver's Studio for the purposes of this project. I was sure that this incredible repository of everything required for weaving cloth would yield precisely the detailed sounds which I required. I went to The Handweaver's Studio in search of the sense of an organic, human, rhythm which would reflect the handmade, repetitious nature of the wallpaper design, and my quest was fruitful!
Wendy Morris is the current custodian of The Handweaver's Studio. It was very busy when I visited, and the only way to hear any of the the looms above the chatter of folks and the clatter of looms was via a contact microphone. As well as the table loom described above, Wendy also demonstrated a floor loom for me in The Handweaver's Studio.
I noticed that the sound in this floor loom was very springy, and Wendy explained that her own loom is even springier. She also explained that in order to really capture the sound of a shuttle moving back and forward between the sheds, we'd need to go to her home and record her own loom. Next, Wendy very kindly took me to her home and demonstrated her 12 shaft countermarch floor loom for me.
I recorded Wendy weaving first of all using a contact microphone, but since it was so wonderfully peaceful and quiet in her weaving room, I was also able to make a couple of recordings with my stereo shotgun microphone, in which there is a much greater sense of acoustics, atmosphere, and space.
listen to ‘Wendy's loom from the other side (recorded with a stereo shotgun microphone)’ on Audioboo
This is the cloth that Wendy is weaving in the sound recordings here. It's made of silk and lurex, and is of Wendy's own design. While it is on the loom being woven, it must necessarily lie flat, but once it comes off the loom, it pleats itself because of the structure of the weave.
Woven fabric © Wendy Morris, photographed by Felicity Ford with kind permission
Woven fabric © Wendy Morris, photographed by Felicity Ford with kind permission
Woven fabric © Wendy Morris, photographed by Felicity Ford with kind permission
Many thanks to Wendy Morris and The Handweaver's Studio for giving these amazing sounds to the Sonic Wallpaper project.
Listening at Cole & Sons
A few weeks ago I posted about an amazing video featuring a William Morris wallpaper design being printed in the traditional way - using woodblocks - at the Cole & Sons Wallpaper factory. The video I found is apparently no longer available on the Internet, but here is another video featuring Cole & Sons wallpaper:
The original video I found was silent and this video - as you'll notice - has laid background music and a descriptive narrative over the top of the sounds of wallpaper being created. I specifically wanted to document the sounds of wallpaper being made, in order to create some of my Sonic Wallpaper designs. The reason for this is that several people whom I interviewed about the MoDA wallpaper collection speculated on how certain designs had been made. There is also an exciting aspect of recording at Cole & Sons, which is the very real links between MoDA's collection of wallpapers, and the factory itself, which did in fact produce several of the historic designs now held in the collection. You can read about them here!
I hoped that in recording the sounds of wallpaper being made, I might sonically expand on both the history of wallpaper, and people's musings on its fabrication. To this end I went to the Cole & Sons Wallpaper Factory with my Audio Technica BP4029 stereo shotgun mic, (+ mic stand) an AKG C411 contact microphone, a pair of SP-TFB-2 - Sound Professionals - Low Noise In-Ear Binaural Microphones, an Edirol R-09 and a FOSTEX FR-2LE.
This is what I heard...
...#1 gloopy wallpaper ink being scooped into a bucket, ready to be poured into the printing machine...
...#2 the sound of the base-layer printing machine, which uses an airblade to remove any excess ink, so that the wallpaper receives a completely even, fine-coating of ink...
...#3 sticks and a rotating chain lifting the paper up at even intervals, to hang a continuous length of paper in big loops in a drying chamber (if you listen carefully you can hear the slide of the paper as the chain/stick mechanism lift it up).
...#4 sounds of colour-matching for a screenprinted design. You can hear a small piece of paper being cut out with scissors; the sound of the vacuum pump on the screenprinting press in operation; and the sounds of a hair-dryer being used to swiftly dry the ink, so that the sample may be held up against an original for comparison...
...#5 the sounds of mixing up solvent-based inks, which are kept in tin containers and which sound surprisingly different, being mixed, to water-based inks...
...#6 the sounds of a printing press idling, while it awaits a wash following a big printing job...
...#7 the sounds of the screenprinting press in operation. You can hear the metal frame with the screen held in it being bought down onto the paper; then the haul of the squeegee across the screen to distribute the ink; then a pause while the printer registers the print and moves the paper onwards (leaving a space to print another repeat of the design after the first layer of ink is dry); then the process repeating again. What I love about this recording is the sense of rhythms and timings. The printer takes almost exactly the same amount of time to register the paper between each print - such is the nature of practised expertise...
...#8 the sounds of rolling the wallpaper up into a roll, once it has been printed with a base-layer of ink...
...#9 (my favourite sound recording of the day) the sounds of testing out and preparing an overprint using a cylindrical, rubber print-block. I attached a contact microphone to this machine, and you can hear the mechanisms inside, and the slowing and the stopping and the resuming as the Design Studio Team at Cole & Sons study their preliminary print, testing the colours and seeing how it prints out as compared to the original design.
...so you have heard here some of the principal sounds associated with the production of this wallpaper, and the screen-printed design shown earlier in the post. Did the production of these papers sound as you would have expected? And next time you look at a wallpaper design will you regard it differently, wondering what sounds were associated with its production?
Thanks so much to Cole & Sons for allowing me to document some of the sounds of wallpaper being created... it was very inspiring to explore how noisy the creation of something as supposedly "quiet" as wallpaper can be.
The original video I found was silent and this video - as you'll notice - has laid background music and a descriptive narrative over the top of the sounds of wallpaper being created. I specifically wanted to document the sounds of wallpaper being made, in order to create some of my Sonic Wallpaper designs. The reason for this is that several people whom I interviewed about the MoDA wallpaper collection speculated on how certain designs had been made. There is also an exciting aspect of recording at Cole & Sons, which is the very real links between MoDA's collection of wallpapers, and the factory itself, which did in fact produce several of the historic designs now held in the collection. You can read about them here!
I hoped that in recording the sounds of wallpaper being made, I might sonically expand on both the history of wallpaper, and people's musings on its fabrication. To this end I went to the Cole & Sons Wallpaper Factory with my Audio Technica BP4029 stereo shotgun mic, (+ mic stand) an AKG C411 contact microphone, a pair of SP-TFB-2 - Sound Professionals - Low Noise In-Ear Binaural Microphones, an Edirol R-09 and a FOSTEX FR-2LE.
This is what I heard...
...#1 gloopy wallpaper ink being scooped into a bucket, ready to be poured into the printing machine...
...#2 the sound of the base-layer printing machine, which uses an airblade to remove any excess ink, so that the wallpaper receives a completely even, fine-coating of ink...
...#3 sticks and a rotating chain lifting the paper up at even intervals, to hang a continuous length of paper in big loops in a drying chamber (if you listen carefully you can hear the slide of the paper as the chain/stick mechanism lift it up).
...#4 sounds of colour-matching for a screenprinted design. You can hear a small piece of paper being cut out with scissors; the sound of the vacuum pump on the screenprinting press in operation; and the sounds of a hair-dryer being used to swiftly dry the ink, so that the sample may be held up against an original for comparison...
...#5 the sounds of mixing up solvent-based inks, which are kept in tin containers and which sound surprisingly different, being mixed, to water-based inks...
...#6 the sounds of a printing press idling, while it awaits a wash following a big printing job...
...#7 the sounds of the screenprinting press in operation. You can hear the metal frame with the screen held in it being bought down onto the paper; then the haul of the squeegee across the screen to distribute the ink; then a pause while the printer registers the print and moves the paper onwards (leaving a space to print another repeat of the design after the first layer of ink is dry); then the process repeating again. What I love about this recording is the sense of rhythms and timings. The printer takes almost exactly the same amount of time to register the paper between each print - such is the nature of practised expertise...
...#8 the sounds of rolling the wallpaper up into a roll, once it has been printed with a base-layer of ink...
...#9 (my favourite sound recording of the day) the sounds of testing out and preparing an overprint using a cylindrical, rubber print-block. I attached a contact microphone to this machine, and you can hear the mechanisms inside, and the slowing and the stopping and the resuming as the Design Studio Team at Cole & Sons study their preliminary print, testing the colours and seeing how it prints out as compared to the original design.
...so you have heard here some of the principal sounds associated with the production of this wallpaper, and the screen-printed design shown earlier in the post. Did the production of these papers sound as you would have expected? And next time you look at a wallpaper design will you regard it differently, wondering what sounds were associated with its production?
Thanks so much to Cole & Sons for allowing me to document some of the sounds of wallpaper being created... it was very inspiring to explore how noisy the creation of something as supposedly "quiet" as wallpaper can be.
Thursday, 22 March 2012
Ticks and tocks at the Clockmaker's Museum
One of the wallpaper designs in the MoDA collection inspired many comments about time and about rhythm. I wrote about the design and the associated sounds which I need to record to create in its sonic equivalent here, and about the quest to find precisely the right ticking sound here. I then contacted Sir George White - who is the keeper of the Clockmaker's Museum at Guildhall - to see if they might have some suitable clocks for me to record in their treasure trove of horological devices.
I could not hear this clock through its thick glass case, but doesn't it look amazing?
I've wanted to visit the Clockmaker's Museum at Guildhall ever since listening to Ian Rawes's recording of the clocks striking noon there on the London Sound Survey website, and since they house the oldest (and many consider the finest) collection of watches and clocks in the world, it seemed an obvious starting point for the quest to find just the right ticking sound.
Sir George explained to me, however, that the Museum's tiny size, lack of quiet study rooms, and the fact that it does not have loads of staff to keep it going might make it difficult for me to record the clock sounds that I am hoping to acquire there.
Nonetheless I decided there would be no harm at all in my making some preliminary investigations into the practicalities of recording clocks, and so I made an excursion to the Museum last week during my Sonic Wallpaper recording adventures.
There is an air-conditioning system at the Clockmaker's Museum - presumably to protect and conserve the priceless clocks - and so underpinning the delicate sonorities of all the clocks and their internal mechanisms in this recording, you can hear a droning sound. Hopefully, this recording nonetheless gives you some idea of what it's like to be in a room which is filled floor to ceiling with watches and clocks!
This recording was made with binaural microphones, the capsules of which have an omni-directional pick-up pattern. Without getting into too much technical detail, this means that they "hear" everything around them, which means it is impossible to single the ticking of one clock out from the throng using them. However by attaching an AKG C411 contact mic to the surfaces of the Grandfather clocks over in the corner of the Museum, I was able to get some insights into the different sonic qualities of different clock mechanisms! This is because the contact microphone picks up vibrations running through the wood and glass of the individual clock to which it is attached.
I may have mixed up which clocks were which in my notes, but these are some of the ticks and tocks that I heard with my AKG C411 microphone in the Clockmaker's Museum.
I think this is the oldest clock I recorded; it was made in 1705 by George Stratford, in London.
This next clock was made in 1720 by Christopher Pinchbeck.
Next up are two clocks from 1750; the first was made by George Graham, and the next one by Justin Vulliamy.
However my favourite recording of the day is this one, and it's the only one I have no idea about! I wonder if anyone at the Museum could tell from the sound which one it is?
Sir George has suggested that I contact the British Museum to discuss the possibility of recording some of the clocks in their collection, which I intend to do, as I am not overly happy with the amount of hiss in these recordings, and I'm still not sure I've found just the right tick tock sound.
But I urge anyone who has the opportunity to stop by to go through the Clockmaker's Museum so that you may hear for yourself the lovely array of sounds there as my recordings really don't do justice to them.
I could not hear this clock through its thick glass case, but doesn't it look amazing?
I've wanted to visit the Clockmaker's Museum at Guildhall ever since listening to Ian Rawes's recording of the clocks striking noon there on the London Sound Survey website, and since they house the oldest (and many consider the finest) collection of watches and clocks in the world, it seemed an obvious starting point for the quest to find just the right ticking sound.
Sir George explained to me, however, that the Museum's tiny size, lack of quiet study rooms, and the fact that it does not have loads of staff to keep it going might make it difficult for me to record the clock sounds that I am hoping to acquire there.
Nonetheless I decided there would be no harm at all in my making some preliminary investigations into the practicalities of recording clocks, and so I made an excursion to the Museum last week during my Sonic Wallpaper recording adventures.
There is an air-conditioning system at the Clockmaker's Museum - presumably to protect and conserve the priceless clocks - and so underpinning the delicate sonorities of all the clocks and their internal mechanisms in this recording, you can hear a droning sound. Hopefully, this recording nonetheless gives you some idea of what it's like to be in a room which is filled floor to ceiling with watches and clocks!
This recording was made with binaural microphones, the capsules of which have an omni-directional pick-up pattern. Without getting into too much technical detail, this means that they "hear" everything around them, which means it is impossible to single the ticking of one clock out from the throng using them. However by attaching an AKG C411 contact mic to the surfaces of the Grandfather clocks over in the corner of the Museum, I was able to get some insights into the different sonic qualities of different clock mechanisms! This is because the contact microphone picks up vibrations running through the wood and glass of the individual clock to which it is attached.
I may have mixed up which clocks were which in my notes, but these are some of the ticks and tocks that I heard with my AKG C411 microphone in the Clockmaker's Museum.
I think this is the oldest clock I recorded; it was made in 1705 by George Stratford, in London.
This next clock was made in 1720 by Christopher Pinchbeck.
Next up are two clocks from 1750; the first was made by George Graham, and the next one by Justin Vulliamy.
However my favourite recording of the day is this one, and it's the only one I have no idea about! I wonder if anyone at the Museum could tell from the sound which one it is?
Sir George has suggested that I contact the British Museum to discuss the possibility of recording some of the clocks in their collection, which I intend to do, as I am not overly happy with the amount of hiss in these recordings, and I'm still not sure I've found just the right tick tock sound.
But I urge anyone who has the opportunity to stop by to go through the Clockmaker's Museum so that you may hear for yourself the lovely array of sounds there as my recordings really don't do justice to them.
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