Echoes of
A Disappearing Planet: Discovering Pluralism in Soundscapes Using
Natural Pitch Resonance and the Sonic Properties of the Alphorn
By: Michael Cumberland
All material copyright © 2004-2008 by Michael Redner Cumberland
The title for this paper came after much thought of what I am trying
to convey. "Echoes of A Disappearing Planet" because the instrument I
play is the alphorn. This is an ancient instrument dating back to 1400
BC in Denmark and Germany. It relies heavily upon the subtleties of
natural acoustics and echoes which are resultant from natural
resonances. It is unique in its ability to create natural resonance in
soundscapes and its ability to literally carry its sound over miles of
mountain ranges, across lakes and through forests.
The sub-heading "Discovering Pluralism in Soundscapes..." relates how
this is a selected study of my own discoveries in natural
pitch-resonance properties and acoustics from the past twenty years.
From the outset I have chosen the Oxford Dictionary meaning of
pluralism: " form of society in which members of minority groups
maintain independent traditions". It is the independent traditions
which are the unique elements of our own world and local soundscapes
that I refer to when speaking of pluralism in this context.
From the listener's soundpoint, when you hear the alphorn's natural
resonance in a large out-of-door acoustical environment it is a sound
which, in the immortal words of Richard Burton, "is a sound sweetened
by distance". The reason for this is found in physics and the
understanding of resonance properties by "air filled spaces, set
oscillating by an oscillating body". 1 It would be impossible for the
instrument to sound the same indoors as out-of-doors.
I try, as Canadian author Farley Mowat once said on my behalf, "to be
a pioneer of repertoire for this beautiful and neglected instrument
which comes as close to any instrument to echoing the true voice of
nature” as well as; “to be a tireless educator and experimenter using
the alphorn to bridge the chasm between man and the rest of animate
creation... performing for concert and out-of-door audiences alike,
emphasizing Canada's unique soundscapes and the living sounds of our
land". 2
If this paper seems like a travelogue I apologize in advance for it
has only been through doing that I have been able to observe and
discover!
Since my earliest youth, summering in the Canadian North, I have been
acutely aware of the contrast between the soundscpaes of the north and
those of Toronto, where I endured the other three seasons of each
year. This awareness became heightened as I began studying music.
While still a teen-ager, studying at the Banff Centre School of Fine
Arts I met Canadian composer R. Murray Schafer. I had the opportunity
to perform in his “The Princess of The Stars” hierophony. Becoming
enchanted with the rehearsals at 3:30 am, the way the composer
integrated human activity, the arts, the natural stage and soundscape
of this particularly beautiful mountain setting – into a sacred music
drama – became a pivotal point in my life.
 Since that time twenty years ago I have continued my interest in
soundscapes with a passion. I have found in my travels, throughout
North America and in the few locations in Europe I have visited, that
a world wide sound imperialism is gradually taking over leaving in its
wake the death of pluralism in soundscapes. This seems particularly
ironic in light of the fact that pluralism, in its social and
political context here in Canada, the "cultural mosaic", is being
touted as a benefit to society. To call into question the ideals of
Canada’s pluralism, and at least from a soundscape perspective, to
give examples of how sound imperialism is destroying Canada’s unique
soundscapes and those of other countries is reasonable.
However, it is my hope that I can, more importantly, answer the
question of what relevance there is in today’s culture with regard to
diversity and the preservation of particular soundscapes for future
generations. In fact, the study of world soundscapes is of paramount
importance in today's society. It allows for a continued
diversification and enriching of peoples lives through observations
and discoveries that otherwise would be lost to the bland wash of
sound imperialism which is smothering the world's sonic environments
and deafening its inhabitants.
My observations of acoustics, echoes and what I term natural
pitch-resonance properties in soundscapes have been done in
twenty-three locations in The United States, from Alaska to New Mexico
(figure 1 – The author playing alphorn at The Grand Canyon); over
twenty-four locations in Canada, from British Columbia to Nova Scotia;
and three locations in Switzerland. These locations differ not only in
extremes of geographical topography: mountains, canyons, deserts,
caverns, lakes and fiords but also in humidity and temperature
extremes - all of which affect how sound travels.
Four soundscapes will be selected for this paper: the Mt. Patullo area
in northern British Columbia, Canada; The Grand Teton mountain range,
Wyoming, The United States; the Valais, Switzerland and; Bon Echo
Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada. These four locations will take the
reader on a step-by-step progression of natural pitch-resonance
property theory and pluralism in soundscapes.
My first alpine experience with alphorn acoustics was in 1984 on the
border of Stewart, British Columbia and Hyder, Alaska while playing by
ice-capped mountains and glaciers in the Mt. Pattullo area at an
altitude of over 2000 meters (figure 2 – “Y” shaped glacier in
northern British Columbia ). It was there that I discovered the
incredible, large scale, resonant spaces and the resultant echoes. One
particular mountain range I performed at split the top of a glacier
into "Y" shape. As I played to the glacier, I heard the sound divide
into two. The two resulting sounds traveled behind the central peak,
and became silent, and returned to me from opposite sides
approximately six seconds later. The speed of sound, at 20 degrees
Celsius, is 344 meters per second. 3 The sounds thus had traveled over
two kilometers creating an extraordinary choric and overlapping
texture of subtle sonorities. This led to unique - at least, for me -
performance practice in highly unusual spaces. At the risk of throwing
academic convention to the wind there was something special here - it
was as if the mountains had been awakened from their eternal slumber
and were speaking to me. It was love at first sound!
Later on that same trip I had a chance meeting with Canadian composer
and pedagogue, R. Murray Schafer, at the Banff Center School of Fine
Arts. We traveled to Canmore, a small town not far from Calgary.
There, for an afternoon, listened to and recorded the sounds of
alphorn and voice echoes in varying experimental locations – using
short and long distances; high, steep bluffs and gradual inclines;
culverts in ditches; and two-mile long lakes backed by mountain sides.
Responses varied from instantaneous, brass-choir effects to the
subtlest of distant echoes repeating five times and lasting up to
eight seconds. At 344 meters per second, the sound must have traveled
nearly three kilometers. The power of sound to travel great distances,
audible by the human ear, is awesome. But, the space and extreme low
level of ambient noise required to accomplish this is like wise
staggering.
It was in this way that I became acutely aware of the uniqueness of
special soundscapes and how we are polluting our soundscapes to such
an extent that many people have never even been aware of the natural
resonance and acoustical wonders surrounding them since they have
become accustomed to, in general, too low signal-to-noise
environments. In other words humans are becoming desensitized and
literally deafened, as a population, because of the constant barrage
of close-quarter sounds imposed upon us. It is an aural stench and
putrefaction of sounds that is being imposed upon our selves and our
fellow world citizens.
Is it possible that because we live in such a low-fi environment that
we crave the hi-fi sound of the studio recording? All one needs to do
is walk out onto any city street in the world and hearing beyond
twenty feet is in immediate danger of becoming impossible - let alone
hearing the subtleties of resonance, echoes and sounds over distances
of two to three kilometers.
It was in this way that I became acutely aware of the uniqueness of
some soundscapes and how we are polluting our soundscapes to such an
extent that many people have never even been aware of the natural
resonance and acoustical wonders surrounding them. They have, in
general become accustomed to very low signal-to-noise environments. In
other words, humans have become desensitized and literally deafened
because of the constant barrage of close-quarter sounds imposed on
them. It is an aural stench and putrefaction of sounds that is being
imposed upon fellow world citizens.
The second location I would like to discuss is the Grand Teton
mountain range in Wyoming. The Teton Range in western Wyoming is a
fairly heavily populated tourist area. Although considered wilderness
by Americans, from a Canadian’s perspective it hardly seems like
wilderness and the ruggedness of the actual mountain terrain
discourages “Winnebago Warriors” from stepping too far from their
lawn-chairs.
These observations were made during the summer of 1990. From past
experience I had learned, for the most part, the best time to play,
experiment and record echoes in natural soundscapes, in order to have
the lowest possible ambient noise, is at dawn. Literally, from the
last hour of total darkness to first light – well before sunrise.
There are several reasons for this.
Firstly, temperature difference has important effects: "During the
night the upper levels of the atmosphere are generally warmer than air
at ground level. Because sound moves faster in warmer air, at about
355metres per second, the upper part of a beam of sound waves will
quicken and, the whole beam will veer downwards. It is for this reason
sound can be heard more clearly and over greater distances by night
than by day." 4
Secondly, there is more moisture in the air as the dewpoint occurs and
this moisture can help the sound and enable the sound waves to
transfer their sound energy more efficiently through the airborne
water molecules. These characteristics give the sound a warmer, fuller
quality and a sound which is able to do, what I term "echo
gymnastics", with much agility. As soon as the sun is up for an hour
these conditions are usually gone.
Thirdly, as the natural fauna, and I might venture to say flora, are
still in states of repose, there is less noise. Fourthly, as tourists,
the world over, rarely get up on their own accord before they have to
– anywhere from seven to ten o'clock there is much less likelihood of
running into curiosity seekers and potential noise makers. In fact, I
have never met a tourist climbing at the top of a mountain prior to
6:00 am. Most of my work is done between 3:30 and 7:00 am.
Lastly, extraneous sounds such as jets, helicopters, chainsaws, cars,
trucks, boats and so forth are more likely to be absent.
In the Grand Tetons I hiked to a location called Amphitheater Lake,
close to the base of The Grand Teton glacier – to experiment and
record. The physical properties of the soundscape – the sound
resonance and echo – created a magical moment. Again, at the risk of
throwing academic convention to the wind – it felt as if the alphorn
had evoked the spirit of the mountains. It was here that I heard the
mountains – and the entire environment – engage in a dialogue with the
alphorn.
It is easy to be scientifically rational and explain that a given
air-filled space as having been set in oscillation by an oscillating
body created a resultant resonance which occurred. 5 This is analogous
to, on a small scale, finding the resonance which is the strongest
fundamental frequency of a small enclosed space such as a bathroom
while singing. It is equally easy to record the event by words and
tape recorders. It is, although, best to probably discard such terms
as magic and super natural with regards to academic and performance
practice. Nevertheless, an experience such as this gives a special
meaning to music, performance and resonance in natural soundscapes. It
was here that I will venture to say that I heard the mountains speak
and the environment respond in a dialogue with the alphorn.
This begs the question; is this possible? The answer could be simple:
firstly, yes, it is possible to set soundscapes into oscillation by
using an oscillating body and resonance to occur. In other words: "It
is true a vibrating object may force another to vibrate in unison, so
the second sets up the same wave pattern and produces the same sound.
Such a forced vibration need not be the result of direct physical
contact between solids. Indirect contact through air may be enough to
accomplish this." 6
The perception and interpretation of the experience of such an
extraordinary natural phenomenon may be rarely experienced by humans
on a scale of the magnitude of miles of space and could lead to
differing interpretations. Certainly, in some cultures the environment
can speak. Is this a result of explaining physical properties? It
could be. Secondly, it depends upon ones perspective - imbuing
inanimate creations with animate characteristics is not generally
accepted in twentieth and twenty-first century western civilizations
as a commonly held belief. Certainly the inculcation of
anthropomorphism, both historically and recently, would pose an
intriguing debate for this argument.
Besides the literal response of the alphorn echoes, there was a
natural liveness of the response from the mountains and forests below.
This was not the usual kind of performance or performance practice
people in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries would be aware of,
for the most part.
Is this the scientific explanation for how the land responds? Does
this explain the feeling that the land is communicating to the
performer and the listener? Certainly, if one is still and listens,
the land responds as if it wants to do so. It seems we, as a people,
rarely hear this because we are too loud and too full of consistent
motion. We simply need to find the means to be able to communicate.
This is not an isolated event due to the capricious whims of a
performer after hours of hiking in the early morning dark. Serious
musical academics relate that there are things, such as the spirit of
music, that are rarely, if ever, told in music handbooks. A listener,
or an audience member, can easily sense the spirit of a sound or
performance. Putting the experience into words is a different matter.
This experience is how my alphorn vision solidified – alone amongst
the peaks and glaciers of the Grand Tetons.
The third location I would like to discuss is the canton of Valais in
Switzerland. My observations were made during July of 1999 when I was
visiting to achieve three goals. The first was to pick up a
custom-made alphorn from the master alphorn builder Gerald Pot. The
second purpose was to study and participate in traditional folk
alphorn technique master classes with virtuoso alphornist, Jozsef
Molnar. My third purpose was to experience rarely seen Fete des
Vignerons – festival of the vintners – which features alphorn players
and the traditional Swiss Ranz des Vaches. This festival has its roots
in ancient Greek mythology and dates back to performances and
traditions of the seventeenth century. Performances now occur only
four times each century.
As an added activity I hiked in the Alps taking my alphorn and
recording equipment. The following describes what transpired during
one of my impromptu hikes.
I hiked for hours above the steep mountain village of Mayens-de-Riddes.
The first day I found a herd of cattle at noon. As I walked above a
ridge the sound of their bells suddenly enveloped me like a duvet of
thick, sonic texture that had fallen across the land.
It was intriguing how the sound came upon me so quickly. Mesmerized, I
sat and listened till after the sun went beneath the horizon. I had no
alphorn or recording equipment; I had simply been out for a walk. It
was near darkness when, in awe, I began my descent.
The next day I hiked up the mountain again for another four hours this
time with my alphorn and recording equipment; this time I was
prepared. As I walked above the ridge, still so clear in my memory, I
heard nothing and saw nothing. The cattle were gone!
Despondent, I trudged further up the steep mountainside, crossing
small glacial rivers and hoping to find the herd in the now-decreasing
sunlight. After another hour of going up and down the irregular
slopes, fully laden with gear, I came upon another steep ridge – and
once again the sound of the bells reached me in a heavenly chorus. It
was a truly remarkable sound to encounter in a mountainous region, one
I am sure no one who has heard it could ever forget.
Rejoicing, I once more set my recording equipment in the oddest of
locations and began to play and record. The magical sounds of the cows
playing their bells, the alphorn rendering traditional folk tunes, the
shepherd calling to the cows and the dog, the dog barking to alert its
owner that three cows had gone astray - all of these are the sound of
historic Swiss folklore. It is what I call the "fugue of life" for
themes repeat themselves in forms and intervals, whether daily or
otherwise, which are in recognizable forms or counterpoint.
To some of the Swiss, including a few herders, the sounds of bells
represent strict and rational functions. They would not think of these
sounds as having potential musical or artistic value. To an outsider,
the aleatoric nature of the sounds, combined with repetition of
sounds, seems truly musical.
While I was recording there were many other sounds to contend with.
Most were acceptable, but not the obviously twentieth-century ones
such as the motorcycles used by the herders and the helicopter which
flew over during my recording. Needless to say that recording was made
useless by the digital accuracy with which the equipment captured the
sound of the helicopter. Manufactures of the internal-combustion
engine rejoice; your sounds are indeed everywhere!
The sound of "les vaches avec cloches" (the cows with bells) is part
of the folklore of Switzerland, one of the unique soundscapes of the
world. In the canton of Valais, where many observations were made, the
bergers (shepherds) and their families have, for the past thousand
years, brought their cows from the tiny Swiss mountain village of
Iserable across the valley to graze in the lush, summer, alpine
meadows of Mayens-de-Riddes. For the bergers and their peasant
families life was difficult in Valais and the people were very poor
(figure 3 – peasant alphorn player by precipices of the Wetterhorn,
cattle in distant background; photographed c. 1904 in Switzerland by
the author’s great-grandmother).
The original function of the bells in alpine or deep forest
environments was twofold. On the spiritual side, they were used to
scare away evil ghosts or wild animals; to combat misfortune,
unhappiness, and epidemics; and to ward off robbers and thieves. This
would seem likely to be related to the myths of the old magic about
the blessing of iron and steel, through tempering or truing, which
would help to keep evil spirits away. 7 This is also why many bells
are decorated with a crucifix and religious motifs. Their other
function was to help sheperds, mostly women and children, locate any
stray cattle in the many crags and valleys of the alpine meadows.
Along this line I had a conversation with a friend, Bengt Hambraeus,
Professor Emeritus McGill University. He told me about his youth in
the 1930’s in the rural regions of Sweden. Bells there had a similar
cultural significance for the farmers but, certain magical rites
connected to the bells remained into the nineteenth century. During
the middle ages, the bells were removed from the cattle during the
dark winter months, when all animals remained in the stables and
barns. They were placed upside-down, and filled with specific dried
flowers, collected during the night of Midsummer Day. These flowers
were ground up, mixed with other natural components, and given to the
animals as a Christian inspired, Holy Communion just before they were
sent out for the first pasturing in the spring. As liturgical objects,
the bells represented and conveyed, magical powers to protect the
animals from evil spirits and beasts of prey. 8
Professor Hambraeus also related to me the first-hand information of
the amazing use of the bells in some rural Swedish regions. Amazingly,
they were used for many types of animals. The herder could direct
calls to individual animals within the herd and had different types of
calls for sheep, goats and cows. In Switzerland, the use of bells is
similar and commonly includes vocal calls as well as alphorn calls.
Yodeling is common Swiss folklore. Herding calls in Sweden, especially
the "kulning" which is used by women on remote mountain and forest
farms in the central region as a means of communicating with the
cattle – are less common sounds, though equally captivating. 9
This ancient custom of using bells is falling into disuse because of a
number of new trends. In Switzerland itinerant bergers, often from
Tunisia now, ski during the winter months. They have no real
connection to the Swiss folklore traditions and do not pass these
traditions on to younger generations. Motorcycles are often used for
herding. Portable electrical fencing is being used to contain the
cattle. Walkie-talkies to communicate between herders and walkmans/discmans
(actually worn to block out the sound of the bells) make the bells
less necessary. Tourists carry off bells as mementos of their visit.
All of these situations have led to a decline in the use of
traditional cowbells. Now the herds with bells can only be heard in
the highest, most isolated regions of the southern Alps and in some
parts of Austria, far above the motorways where tourists languish in
their rented vehicles and air-conditioned buses.
While in the rural areas of Switzerland I was able to make some
interesting observations. I believe it is important to note that in
this sonic/aural culture there is an unusual disposition to the pitch
F# – c. 370 Hz. This paper will not go into the historical nuances and
fluctuations of pitch over the past centuries. It should briefly be
noted, however, that F# at 370 Hz corresponds, for example, to A1 = c.
442 Hz. Depending on which temperament is used, Gb/F# could at least
be anything between 364 and 380 Hz, even if the standard tuning pitch
is an A1 = 440 Hz, the usual practice in international orchestras
during the last thirty to forty years. For the purposes of this
discussion I will use F# at about 370 Hz. 10
The historic tuning of the Swiss alphorn is F#, a slightly odd pitch
for westernized musicians. When I asked around nobody knew exactly why
– it was just the way it had always been done. While researching
further into the folklore it was written that the alphorn is
traditionally the combined height of two men. Is this length
equivalent to F#? It seems so! Obviously the combined length of two
men could be any number of measurements. It could be slightly longer
creating and F fundamental or slightly shorter creating a G
fundamental. Suffice it to say that a canon was developed and F#
chosen. This is not to say other tunings are not used only that the
Swiss favour the F# fundamental pitch.
While traveling the rail system in Switzerland I noticed the high
pitched whistle of the trains were also in F# with a C# (the dominant
of F#) also being used. A bit odd, I thought, but perhaps there is a
connection.
As I had dinner with a retired Swiss rail engineer shortly thereafter,
I mentioned my observation. He noted my observation was correct. He
also noted I was the only tourist he had ever met to make this
observation. When questioned about a possible folklore connection with
the alphorn he thought it very plausible, but could not corroborate
it, either as a fact or the intention of Swiss Rail engineers. 11
Later, on reviewing my recordings of the cows with bells, I realized
that I had captured a half dozen repetitions of shepherd calls to the
cows (la,la,la,la,la,la,la) all based on the tonality of F#. I had
recorded two different herds of cows, in different valleys, with
different shepherds – but the call was very similar: the first six
"la's" were pitched on F# with the final "la" being a G. It was sung
with great volume and considerable rapidity, and the tempo was a
quarter note equal to a metronomic marking of seventy-two and each
"la" was a sixteenth note.
While driving past a farm in the Luzern region I noticed a couple of
cow bells for sale by a barn. The large bronze bells had lovely tones
and I purchased one. When I got home I realized the bell was pitched
in C# - the dominant of F#. For all I know the bell beside it was in
F#.
Are these merely a set of charming and very fine observations? The
coincidence seems too strong to be just that. I believe there is a
"natural pitch-resonance property" of F# which belongs to the Alps.
This led me to wonder whether, if the Alps have this property, all
regions could have "natural pitch-resonance properties".
Hence, this led me to further, more careful studies of soundscapes in
the lake regions of Ontario in Canada.
The idea of a geographic space having a natural pitch-resonance
property supported observations made using the alphorn over many
years. The basis for this tenet can be corroborated using physics.
For example a pitch of F (44Hz), a minor sixth above the lowest A on
the keyboard, has a wavelength of 25.7 feet. If a corresponding
soundscape space had a distance a multiple of the wavelength produced
and with sufficient amplitude (Db), the space could be made to
resonate by using an oscillating body (the alphorn) and indirect
contact through air to create sympathetic vibrations. Thus, a
clairaudience would occur when pitches of factors of the out-of-door
space are played using the instrument.
Approximate measurement of distance of a large space like a lake,
canyon or natural amphitheatre could likewise be determined using the
speed of sound, 344 meters per second and listening to time measured
echoes per second during the period of one minute.
Experiments using this tenet have been done in Ontario at: The
Haliburton Forest and Wildlife Reserve at Noname Lake and Bone Lake,
in the Kawarthas at Stony Lake (figure 4 – a typical dawn on a lake in
northern Ontario, the ideal conditions for playing) and Methune Lake
and in Bon Echo Provincial Park at Mazinaw Lake.
When assessing the natural pitch-resonance properties of a soundscape
it is necessary to try to keep as many factors as common as possible.
Factors which the listener/performer must be aware of are: exact
location of the sound source; the pitches examined must be consistent
and the reflecting surface must be consistent for each of the test
sounds; the time of day, the time of year; and lastly, weather
conditions, particularly wind must be taken into account. Next, each
pitch and its wave length must be examined along with the distance
from the sound source to the reflecting surface and back and this
related to the speed of sound in an ideal temperature of 20 degrees
Celsius.
This is a time consuming process and one I have laboured to experiment
with in Ontario since 1999.
To keep the nomenclature simple, three guiding pitches will be
referred to when relating the test pitches to the soundscape. These
are: A, at 28Hz (frequencies in Hz are to the nearest 1.0) with a
physical wave length of sound of 40.4 feet, this is the lowest A on
the conventional keyboard; C at 262 Hz with a physical wave length of
sound of 4.3 feet, this is middle-C on the keyboard; and A 440 Hz,
with a physical wave length of sound of 2.6 feet, the tuning A for
many contemporary orchestras. 12
The alphorn used in the acoustic experiments can be played in the keys
of F, F#, G and Ab. Each extension has a possible 17 playable testing
notes. All of these are in the harmonic series and range from the
lowest fundamental in each key to the sixteenth partial. This allows
for a four octave range. The lowest possible sounding note is the F at
44 Hz, with a physical wave length of 25.7 feet; and the highest
sounding note is the Ab at 934 Hz, with a physical wave length of 1.25
feet. This top note is the Ab above the treble clef. The first two
octaves, or fundamental, and the following three partials will be
referred to as the low range. Partials five through twelve are the
mid-range. Partials thirteen to seventeen are the high range.
My fourth and last example is Mazinaw Lake in Bon Echo Provincial Park
(figure 5 – drawing of Bon Echo Provincial Park) where I made
recordings in September of 2004. Mazinaw Lake is ideal because its
physical geography is extraordinary: the lake is long and narrow - to
the east a 300 foot sheer rock face plummets into a lake and continues
underwater for another 300 feet; the rock face width is close to two
kilometers with a natural amphitheatre and bay to the south. To the
west are rolling hills and to the north the lake continues for
approximately six kilometers twisting and turning. The width of the
lake where I was recording was approximately 600 feet from the west
shore to the rock face on the opposite east shore of the lake (figure
6 – Mazinaw Lake and alphorn location).
This location is also notable because it is an historic and sacred
location for the indigenous native tribes. It is considered the centre
of their local world because it is a meeting of the sky, symbolic of
the spirit; the earth and rock face, symbolic of the living; and what
was perceived to be a bottomless lake, symbolic of the underworld. For
thousands of years this has been a sacred location. When one listens
to the echoes in the location there is no doubt this too would have
held a special place in the conceptions of the native world in
communicating with their spirit world.
At Mazinaw Lake in Bon Echo Park the following summary was observed
and recorded. In the key of F# the fundamental and second partial, at
physical wave lengths of 24.4 feet and 12.4 feet respectively,
resonated reasonably well. This is notable as these partials tend not
to resonate well in many soundscapes. The seventh partial, F#, and
ninth partial, A#, with physical wave lengths of 2.45 feet and 3.05
feet respectively, both just above middle C, resonated particularly
well.
In the key of G the third partial, G below middle C, with a physical
wave length of 5.8 feet; and the seventh to eleventh partials, with
physical wave lengths of 2.9 feet – 1.9 feet resonated well.
In the key of Ab notable resonance was heard with the fundamental,
first, third, seventh and ninth partials. Of particular note were the
fifth partial, middle C, and the C one octave above.
The most outstanding observations were noted in the key of F. From the
fundamental F at 44Hz, with a physical wave length of 25.7 feet, to
the thirteenth partial D# fourth line treble clef, with a physical
wave length of 1.8 feet, resonance in this key was outstanding.
Although a generalization, many of the physical wave lengths of this
key tended to divide fairly evenly into the distance from the sound
source to the echoing rock face – which is about 600 feet. The
fundamentals echoed better than any other key and the mid and high
ranges resonated exceptionally well.
Observations made from recordings at Mazinaw Lake also clearly
indicate an interconnectedness between man-made sounds, music on the
alphorn, and the fauna: a crow caw pitched at F above middle C, a
nuthatch call at C two octaves above middle C, a blue-jay cry at G
above middle C, and a robin’s call note of C an octave above middle C.
It would seem these animal sounds are literally in tune to the natural
pitch-resonance of their soundscape. The alphorn in the key of F with
a strong dominant C corroborates these observations.
Other observations recorded demonstrated that when sounds in F# were
played the caw of the crow sounded F#, a semitone rise from the F; the
chatter of a red-squirrel was recorded in F# and; the nuthatch call
ascended temporarily to a C#. In the key of G the nuthatch call
descended to a B. In the key of F the blue-jay cry ascended from a G
to an A. When the playing ceased the animal calls resumed to their
previous pitches. For me these observations beg the question; are we
interconnected with a sonic web of life?
Other examples of natural pitch-resonance properties have been: F# on
Noname Lake in the Haliburton Forest and Wildlife Reserve; G on Bone
Lake in the Haliburton Forest and Wildlife Reserve; and F on MacKenzie
Bay on Stony Lake in the Kawarthas.
Although natural pitch-resonance properties seem to be more than
coincidence the tenet is not yet an exact science. In theory,
observations can be corroborated using physics and mathematical
formulae. From a practical standpoint it is certain that ranges and
patterns of notes tend to resonate more clearly than others given
ideal conditions in a soundscape.
This may explain the ancient Swiss cultural tradition of alphorns
being pitched in F#. Could this explain the sacred and pluralistic
traditions surrounding native cultures around site specific cultures
like Bon Echo Provincial Park in Ontario, Devil’s Tower in Wyoming and
the Gilla Cliff Dwellings in New Mexico? All are locations which I
have performed and recorded and all have had a certain spirit evoked
by the alphorn.
How many more sacred soundscape locations can be discovered? Can
compositions be harmonized with the natural pitch-resonance properties
of a soundscape, its fauna and flora? Some of my own compositions are
created relating the most resonant pitches of a location. They are
location specific. Could R. Murray Schafer’s performances on Wildcat
Lake in The Haliburton Forest and Wildlife Reserve be realizing a
sacred soundscape through the performances and re-enactments of the
Patria series and the Canadian masterpiece “The Princess of the
Stars”?
Currently, R. Murray Schafer is working on a composition for alphorn
and soprano, alto, tenor, bass voices and percussion. It is being
discussed that Mazinaw Lake in Bon Echo Provincial Park may be a
performance venue. Of interesting note is the scoring. The soprano,
alto, tenor and bass (SATB) voices are for two reasons; the first
practical, it is hoped that with SATB the work will have more
opportunity for performances as choirs are more common than orchestras
in Canada. Secondly, for more experimental reasons, there is a
relative ease with which keys can be changed by the alphorn and choir.
This ease of changing keys is not possible with written music for
orchestras. This has the unique possibility of creating an out-of-door
work which could be transposed depending upon the natural
pitch-resonance properties of the soundscape. This is certainly a
first – at least as a compositional technique for Canada! Could this
be a beginning of a new Canadian tradition?
Central Europe is an old well established culture where change,
particularly in rural settings, can be slow to occur – and where some
older traditions are still practiced. Could it be that these older
well established cultures are literally in-tune with their
environments? Could the relatively closely spaced mountains of certain
locations create the circumstances for natural resonance, explained by
the physical properties of space, to exist as a phenomenon? Could this
kind of phenomenon be discovered in a newer culture such as Canada or
from the old traditions and spaces of native North American
populations?
Could the ancient Chinese elaborate acoustics based upon the
huang-chung or "yellow bell" fundamental, which was derived from
blowing air through a bamboo tube 9 inches long and 0.9 inches wide,
relate to a "natural pitch-resonance property" phenomenon found in
certain regions in ancient China? Chinese records, dating back to the
third century BC, note that a set of pitch pipes was tuned, using the
cycle of fifths, to the love song of a pair of phoenixes. Could this
even date back to the records from the reign of Emperor Huang-Ti and
his musical minister Ling-lun c. 2698 B.C. 13 The ability of the
Chinese to hear subtle changes in tone and timbre of sound is well
documented in the ancient performance practice of the Ch’in, which
could easily be said to go far beyond the nuances of much western
music. Is this a sign of a culture highly attuned to its aural senses?
A corollary to this on a macrocosmic scale would be the ancient Greek
Pythagorean concept, furthered by Johannes Kepler in "The Music of The
Spheres". In the ancient Greek story from the end of Plato's Republic,
is the wonderful and apocalyptic-eschatological myth of Er, son of
Armenius and by descent a Pamphylian, who died in battle and was, on
the tenth day, carried off and taken up – and later found to be still
fresh. On the twelfth day Er was laid upon a funeral pyre. It was
about to be lit when he revived. He told of what he had seen in the
next world and of his vision of the sounding of the cosmic spheres. He
saw a distaff in motion with eight circles going around it. On the
upper side of each circle was seated a siren which uttered a single
note in a single tone. As the total number of sirens was eight, they
composed one harmony. This story provides the best known description
of the phenomenon of the music of the spheres. 14
It could be purported that our present culture has lost touch with
sacred relationships to soundscapes due to worldwide sound
imperialism, the manufactures of mass media and the internal
combustion engine.
It is crucial to understand that with the insidious nature of noise
pollution being inculcated and legitimized through basic societal
misconceptions such as "progress for the sake of progress - at all
costs" into our psyches, that these kinds of observations may not be
able to occur in the near future and could be forever lost. Some of
the world's northern countries, such as Canada, still have relatively
large areas untouched by at least constant sound imperialism.
It would behoove us as a population to study these areas while they
are still audibly available to be researched. Let us remedy ignorance
with education and knowledge before our global village continues to
shrink to a micro-chip and all sense of exploration is gone forever on
our planet or is lost to progress.
In conclusion let us not forget pluralism in soundscapes is important.
It leads to traditions, which may or may not become sacred, but none
the less allow for continued diversification and enrichment of our
lives. Now, more than ever, people must become aware and help to
preserve soundscapes for generations to come.
Endnotes:
Westphat, Wilhelm H.. Fun with Physics. Translated from the original
German by E. Osers under the title Deine tagliche Physik. London: A
Four Square Book The New England Library Limited, 1964. Page 154.
Mowat, Farley. To: Mike Cumberland – unpublished letter. Port Hope,
Ontario: April 9, 1998. Page 1.
Asimov, Isaac. Understanding Physics: Motion, Sound, and Heat. New
York, New York: Mentor, The New American Library, Inc., 1969. Page
164.
Asimov, Isaac. Understanding Physics: Motion, Sound, and Heat. New
York, New York: Mentor, The New American Library, Inc., 1969. Page
164.
Westphat, Wilhelm H.. Fun with Physics. Translated from the original
German by E. Osers under the title Deine tagliche Physik. London: A
Four Square Book The New England Library Limited, 1964. Page 154.
Asimov, Isaac. Understanding Physics: Motion, Sound, and Heat. New
York, New York: Mentor, The New American Library, Inc., 1969. Page
164.
Hambraeus, Bengt. To: Mike Cumberland – unpublished letter. Applehill
Farm, Ontario: April 12, 2000. Page 1
Hambraeus, Bengt. To: Mike Cumberland – unpublished letter. Applehill
Farm, Ontario: April 12, 2000. Page 1
Hambraeus, Bengt. Aspects of Twentieth Century Performance Practice:
Memories and Reflections. Sweden: Almqvist & Tryckeri, Upsalla, 1997.
Page 74-75.
Hambraeus, Bengt. To: Mike Cumberland – unpublished letter. Applehill
Farm, Ontario: April 12, 2000. Page 2.
Thevenin, Charles. (Swiss Rail Engineer, Retired) Interview by Michael
Cumberland. Vevy, Switzerland, July 29, 1999.
Egan, M. David, ed. (Fellow, Acoustical Society of America) An
Acoustics Primer For Music Spaces Version 1.1. U.S.A., Owatonna, MN:
Wenger Corporation, 2000. Page 4.
May, Elizabeth, ed. Musics of Many Cultures. Berkeley, California:
University of California Press, Ltd., 1983. Page 11.
Plato. The Republic of Plato. Translated by Thomas Taylor, Edited by
Theodore Wratislaw. London and Felling-On-Tyne: The Walter Scott
Publishing Co., Ltd. Page 304.
Bibliography:
Asimov, Isaac. Understanding Physics: Motion, Sound, and Heat. New
York, New York: Mentor, The New American Library, Inc., 1969.
Brumbaugh, Robert S. Plato for the Modern Age. United States of
America: The Crowell-Collier Publishing Company, 1962.
Egan, M. David, ed. (Fellow, Acoustical Society of America) An
Acoustics Primer For Music Spaces Version 1.1. U.S.A., Owatonna, MN:
Wenger Corporation, 2000.
Goering, Jack W.L.. (Physicist, Trinity College School, Retired)
Interview by Michael Cumberland. Port Hope, Ontario, May 18,2000.
Hambraeus, Bengt. Aspects of Twentieth Century Performance Practice:
Memories and Reflections. Sweden: Almqvist & Tryckeri, Upsalla, 1997.
Hambraeus, Bengt. To: Mike Cumberland – unpublished letter. Applehill
Farm, Ontario: April 12, 2000.
May, Elizabeth, ed. Musics of Many Cultures. Berkeley, California:
University of California Press, Ltd., 1983.
McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. New
York, New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1964; reprint, 2nd Edition,
Scarborough, Ontario: The New American Library of Canada Limited,
1964.
Mowat, Farley. To: Mike Cumberland – unpublished letter. Port Hope,
Ontario: April 9, 1998.
Plato. The Republic of Plato. Translated by Thomas Taylor, Edited by
Theodore Wratislaw. London and Felling-On-Tyne: The Walter Scott
Publishing Co., Ltd.
Schafer, R. Murray. The Tuning of The World. Toronto: McCelland and
Stewart Limited, 1977.
Sykes, J.B.. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English. 6th ed.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1976.
Thevenin, Charles. (Swiss Rail Engineer, Retired) Interview by Michael
Cumberland. Vevy, Switzerland, July 29, 1999.
Westphat, Wilhelm H.. Fun with Physics. Translated from the original
German by E. Osers under the title Deine tagliche Physik. London: A
Four Square Book The New England Library Limited, 1964.
Credits/Thank You:
Bruce Bateman (Superintendent of Bon Echo Provincial Park); Mildred
Cumberland, the author’s Great-grandmother, photo of peasant alphorn
player c. 1904 taken in Switzerland on tour of Europe (figure 3); Mark
Malby, photo Stony Lake (figure 4); Laura Steen; Geoffrey Tait, photo
“Y” shaped glacier (figure 2); Mary Talbot.
Brief Biography:
Michael Cumberland was born in Toronto and currently resides in Port
Hope, Ontario with his wife, two sons and daughter. He received his
Bachelor of Music and Education Degrees from the University of
Toronto, his Master of Music from The University of British Columbia
and continued his studies at Trent University and McGill University.
Mr. Cumberland currently teaches and performs with alphorn and tuba in
Southern Ontario. He has premiered numerous compositions, writes his
own alphorn music and, has been recorded for CBC. He has produced his
own alphorn/soundscape recordings, has just released an alphorn DVD
and can be heard on Centrediscs – Composer Portrait Series: R. Murray
Schafer. Mr. Cumberland would welcome comments regarding this paper at
CONTACT
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