Over a period of one working-week, I have set up an audio recording on my balcony; for half an hour each day, always at the same time (1:45 - 2:15pm). I was investigating if there was a regularity to my everyday sonic environment; if my balcony hears the same sounds day after day.

I began this study while reading ‘A Noise Pollution’ by Mike Goldsmith, who writes about the effect of our everyday soundscape on our mental health (i.e. our concentration, sleep, etc). As I was reading, I realised I am not actually aware what noises surround me - they have become ‘normal’ and, therefore, something I do not notice (or pay attention to). I wonder if one could speak of ‘aural unconscious’ like we do of ‘optical unconscious’?

Our ears receive all the sounds (i.e. we take all the sounds in, like an audio recorder would do) but our minds perceive only some. So, what are the sounds that I perceive, and what are the ones that I merely receive? And how does my mind make the selection? Here is what I found:

BALCONY RECORDINGS taken from Monday 16th to Friday 20th of March 2020

(merely) Received sounds:

• Minor birds – pretty much continuously every day

• Traffic – similarly heavy throughout, almost like a sound of ocean waves (every day)

• Sounds of my own activity (i.e. turning pages, typing, moving the chair, my pencil writing on the notepad). I heard these only when listening back to the recording. We don’t normally hear our sounds because we are our sounds.

• Light rain and light wind (soothing sound)

• Aeroplane – every day and quite often

• Human activity (when in the distance)

(received and) Perceived sounds:

• A car-beep (happened only twice in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Bigger tracks (pass only occasionally and at irregular times) 

• Wind when it becomes stronger

• Birds when they come closer

• Someone pushing shopping trolleys – unexpected sound so draws my attention, I even stood up when it happened to check what it was (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Helicopter – irregular sound which raises my curiosity as I wander what is going on (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Keyring of a neighbour coming in (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• A strange truck-loading sound – I pay attention, I wonder what it is, I am not sure of its source (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Heavy rain sound (startles me when it begins but then as it continues, I don’t notice it anymore)

• Human activity when close, i.e. people talking and laughing directly in front of the balcony (happened only twice in five days, or 2,5h of recording; and lasted for 7min total) 

• Sound of beer barrels from the nearby pup (loud sound) – draws my attention (goes for about 15 min). Happened only once in five days, on Thursday and I wonder if this sound is always there on Thursdays at this same time? Next week I won’t be able to check because all the pubs will be closed by then.  

• Ambulance sound – curiosity, worry (happened only twice in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Police-siren sound – curiosity, worry (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Sound of car break – startles me (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Neighbour playing awful music so loud that I can’t hear traffic anymore (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

• Someone’s phone ringing (happened only once in five days, or 2,5h of recording) 

Sound is noticed/perceived when it is not anticipated, when it is a surprise, either temporally (i.e. sounds that appeared only once or twice during the week) or spatially (i.e. sounds whose source was not clear). The sounds that are not perceived but merely received are those that have become familiar and have established a regular pace (i.e. a continues rain or wind). These sounds could be loud (i.e. an aeroplane) but if we hear them day in and day out, we stop perceiving them. I am always reminded of this when I speak to my parents who call from Europe. As we talk and the plane flies, they say: What is that?!?
I ask: What is what?
That sound, they answer.
Oh, it’s an airplane, I reply.
How can you live with such a sound?, they comment in worry, perhaps even disgust.
I forgot these sounds are not (everyone’s) norm. We get used to things that repeat, and the part of getting used to it is ceasing to see, hear, smell, feel. Think of the peculiar smell each country has - it is only tourists that notice them; to the locals this is the smell of the world, smell of familiarly, smell of comfort.

The familiar sounds are the sounds (or the signs) of ‘everything is alright’ and I wonder how the sudden ceasing of these sounds affects us? Goldsmith speaks about the disturbing effect of noise but what if certain noises became southing? It is surprises that startle us, and the surprises sometimes come in the form of absence (i.e. a sudden disappearance of a sound).

My neighbourhood noises are the sounds of ‘normality’ which is currently changing*, and the ‘silences’ which will replace them will, I anticipate, feel as a void. This will be the sound (or the soundlessness) of life that has suddenly gone weird, strange, uncanny.

But how long will the new sonic environment feel that way? How long before I stop perceiving this soundlessness; before the new sonic environment becomes ‘normal’ and therefore inaudible. How many regular repetitions (day in and day out) until what is initially unsettling disappears from the consciousness and shifts into ‘aural unconscious’? And how does it haunt us from there?

*these recordings were takes and this text was written during the early days of Sydney’s Corona social isolation period (the stage #1 of official lock-down commenced on Monday 23 March, 2020)