Excerpts

from

Click to access Cox%20article%20OS%2014.1.pdf

“…a conception of sound as a continuous, anonymous flux to which human expressions contribute but which precedes and exceeds these expressions.

At its best, ‘sound art’ opens up or calls attention to an auditory unconscious, a transcendental or virtual domain of sound that has steadily come to prominence over the course of the twentieth century.

Background noise [le bruit de fond] is the ground of our perception, absolutely uninterrupted, it is our perennial sustenance, the element of the software of all our logic. It is the residue and cesspool of our messages. It is to the logos what matter used to be to form. Noise is the background of information, the material of that form. Background noise may well be the ground of our being. It may be that our being is not at rest. The background noise never ceases; it is limitless, continuous, unending, unchanging. It has itself no back- ground, no contradictory. Noise cannot be made a phenomenon; every phenomenon is separated from it, a silhouette on a backdrop, like a beacon against the fog, as every message, every cry, every call, every signal must be separated from the hubbub that occupies silence, in order to be, to be perceived, to be known, to be exchanged. As soon as a phenomenon appears, it leaves the noise; as soon as a form looms up or pokes through, it reveals itself by veiling noise. So noise is not a matter of phenomenology, so it is a matter of being itself.

‘In short,’ Moles concludes, ‘there is no absolute structural difference between noise and signal. They are of the same nature. The only difference which can be logically established between them is based exclusively on the concept of intent on the part of the transmitter. A noise is a signal that the sender does not want to transmit.’

This sort of relativity would seem to put signal and noise on a par with one another, allowing noise an ontological place of its own, one no longer subordinate to signal. Yet this relativism, too, privileges signal. It construes the distinction between signal and noise (or music and noise) solely from the perspective of communication and meaning, and of human intentions and values. And yet, before there were creatures to exchange signals, there was a generalised noise: the crackling of cosmic radiation, the rush of the wind, the roar of the sea. And, even now, every signal is issued against the backdrop of this noise. As Serres puts it, ‘noise’ is the background hubbub of life, the ceaseless sonic flux. Just as objects fill visual space, noise is what fills the auditory field: the hum of fluorescent lights, the rustling of leaves or fabric, the sound of traffic, radio static – indeed, all of these combined. It is from this background that any signal comes to the fore, temporarily drawing our attention to it and away from the background noise.

This virtual field has, for Leibniz, a truly cosmic significance. Each of the ‘minute perceptions’ that unconsciously determine conscious perception is itself the effect of causes that ramify out to infinity. Each individual wave is the result of a multitude of forces: the speed and direction of the wind, air pressure and temperature, the temperature and viscosity of the water, and so on. As a result, each conscious perception is the local registration of the entire state of the universe at any given moment. And the same is true of memory. The reservoir of memory contains not only particular memories or experiences – traces of all the past events I have experienced – but everything to which those experiences and memories are connected – namely, the entirety of the past.

Vibrations do not disappear, but dissipate, echoing all the while, for energy is conserved. Every vibration, every sound, hangs in the air, in the room, in bodies. Sounds spread out, they become less and less contracted, they fuse, but they still remain, their energy of vibration moving the air and the walls in the room, making a noise that still tickles the strings of a violin playing weeks later. Every sound masks an entire history of sound, a cacophony of silence.

‘Is the universe noise?’ Kosko asks, and then continues:

That question is not as strange as it sounds. Noise is an unwanted signal. A signal is anything that conveys information or ultimately anything that has energy. The universe consists of a great deal of energy. Indeed a working definition of the universe is all energy anywhere ever. [T]he noise-signal duality lets a sincere pan-theist counter that he loves or wants God and that God just is the entire universe but spelled with fewer letters. So to him the universe is not noise but one big wanted signal.

Leibniz’s other prominent auditory example approaches this idea from the other side. For the man who lives next to the watermill, it is not the parts but the entire sound that is – or has become – imperceptible. This sound has ceased to be remarkable and has become ordinary, unconscious, background. Leibniz thus makes it possible for us to grasp the distinction between signal and noise not as one between part and whole, ignorance and knowledge but as one between the singular and the ordinary, perception and its conditions of genesis, the actual and the virtual.

…in a lecture on Leibniz, Gilles Deleuze offers just such a suggestion. ‘One can conceive of a continuous acoustic flow that traverses the world and that even encompasses silence’, he writes. ‘A musician is someone who appropriates something from this flow

As Cage once put it: ‘Music is continuous; only listening is intermittent’ (1982: 224).

The piece as a whole focuses on the very medium of sonic transport – air – and highlights the fact that sound is simply the result of pressure changes in that medium. Its subject matter – wind – is the most elemental of all phenomena and the most primeval sonic stuff. Wind is powerful, invisible and ever-changing. To focus on it is to transcend the limits of our ordinary ontology, composed as it is of relatively stable visible objects. For wind is pure becoming, pure flow. It is immemorial, but never the same. And it is nothing but the play of differential forces, differences in air pressure and temperature that generate immense currents, fronts and bursts across the surface of the earth – phenomena that are contracted by our ears (and by the microphone membrane) as sound.