Project I: Reflections Through Sound and Objects

Along with a path into adulthood comes a profound sense of maturity through reflection. Throughout my college years, I often look back on my life – the happy times, the sad times, and the times that made me into a stronger person. I find these moments to typically be unprompted by my own thinking, but by my surroundings. I hear the song “The Tears of a Clown” and remember driving to school with my dad. I look at my keys and see the keychain that my dad got in Monte Carlo when he was eighteen. I magnetize to my phone, and remember the blissful days of not having such an impetuous urge. Regardless of the way I live from day to day, these moments find me and remind me of my roots, my history, and the fundamental components of who I am today.

To further explore this understanding, I have decided to create a piece that relates various sounds of my childhood to objects that jog my memories from years ago. I was very intentional in the objects that I picked, as I believe that each object holds a serious sense of gravitas in my mind. By connecting each of these objects to a transducer and playing various sounds (both synthesized and recorded), I have created numerous pieces of art that are unique and abstract. Often times, we define music by the notes on a page – however, through this type of presentation it becomes clear that to be a composer, you do not necessarily have to put dots to lines.

Throughout my piece, it is important to return to a central concept of this class, which is the intersection of sound and objects. Through the relationships between these two, we can find an intertwining that is often neglected in today’s busy world. While each object may have stand-alone meaning, the sound that emanates through each object adds another layer of meaning to the composition. I hope you enjoy these various compositions – I enjoyed broadening my perspective of objects and sound in creating each piece.

Bliss: When I turned 16 years old and bought my first car, my dad gave me a key chain to put with my new car keys. The key chain was on his keys for as long as I could remember, and it said “Casino Monte Carlo” on it. The small, brass trinket was worn from his pocket and daily use, and it was strange to receive it – I felt like I was growing up. Today, as I look at my keys, I reflect on driving with my dad. I look back on the early days in my life, when I innocently sat in the back seat on my way to school – and my dad sat in the front appreciating and loving every moment. Through my “Casino Monte Carlo” keychain, I played my favorite song that my dad would play for my brother and I on Fridays. While the song plays well through the transducer, it sounds as if it is contained and not fully resounding – as if the sound is within a container like a box. To me, this resembles the state of my life at that time, contained and ignorant to the world around me. When I think back on my life as I look at my keychain or when I hear the song “Tears of a Clown” I often think about it in the context of the sound I hear through this object now – closed off to the immense, daunting, and developing world of adulthood around me.

Pictures of my keychain:

Video of keychain:

MonteCarloVid

Chains: When I drive, I have a magnetic attachment that I stick to my air vent – I can then stick my phone on the magnet so that I can view directions to my destination while driving. While the magnet is great for it’s intended purpose of allowing your phone to be a handy GPS in front of you at all times, I also like it because I can easily see when someone is texting or calling me. I have included this object in my composition because as I use it frequently to help me stay connected to the world around me, I reflect on the days in which I never had a phone – the days when I lived in the moment, unaffected by the clutter of adulthood. When I decided the sound to play through my object, I chose a song titled Ohio, by Damien Jurado. In the song, we hear of a man who is returning to his home of Ohio, and he explains that “it’s been a long time.” I find it interesting to juxtapose a song that reflects on home and the distance across time in relation to an object that often times chains me down to the present world around me. The contrast of the two is stark, and when I play Ohio through the transducer, the music results in a muffled noise. To me, this piece is special because as the song is muffled by my magnetic tool, so too is my life muffled by the everyday presence of my phone.

Picture of car magnet:

Video of car magnet:

WidgetVid

Open: Growing older, I’ve have become more pessimistic, especially in today’s political struggles and seemingly divided nation. For millennials, we often have a tendency to be close-minded – as I admittedly am today. Whether this be to a friend revealing a harsh truth or a coach pushing you in athletics, it is tempting to immediately deny those around us. I was able to trace this mentality through the relationship of sound between an antique wine bottle and my favorite song: Down by Marian Hill. To me, the song takes over you with the heavy base, while it asks the question “are you down?” While it seems simple and repetitive, this song reflects the open perspective that is opposite of the close-mindedness tendency that I sometimes fall into. As I play music from beneath it, the noise is resounding, and I even hear the deep base tones included within the song. If I flip the bottle over, however, the sound is much quieter and less vibrant. To me, the sound flowing through this object closely mimics the difference between my perspective (and potentially many others my age) in being wildly open minded as a child and my subsequent inability to trust or listen to the voices and noises around me today. By having an open end, sound flows very fluidly through the bottle; but when played the other way, we hear a much more unpleasant and unimpressive resonance.

Picture of wine jug:

Video of wine jug:

Jug Vid

Through each of these intersections between sound and objects, I have shown a closer relationship between me and the world around me. Whether it be stretching back to car rides with my dad as a young child, escaping the day-to-day buzzing of my phone, or even having an open mind in today’s frustrating world, it is always important to pause to look, listen, and relate the noises and objects around you. Just as the resonance of an object is defined by an object’s acoustics, we, ourselves, can always change our ways of thinking – our acoustics – and influence the resonance by which we live day today.