Landscape architects usually think of compact greenery as the sound buffer minimizing noise pollution but we rarely think about specifically designing with sound, acoustics of space and the soundscape present at the site of intervention. Especially in the art scene, the sonification of plants, microbes, underwater creatures and their otherwise unheard processes, gained special attention with site-specific installations, research programs and numerous exhibitions. Bioacoustics, eco-acoustics and ecological sound art participate in the mosaic of transmission to other professions. It is not only about the decibels, it is about being present and led through space by attentive listening and being aware of how the sound paints the image of our surroundings – does it rain, what is the rhythm, how far is the street, how many different birds are there, what is the time, are neighbours home yet … As no plot is a tabula rasa, no place is mute. Shutting the hearing down from noise, we lose sensitivity amid daily cacophonic chaos. However, the nuances of what we (over)hear might inform us of presence beyond the sirens of everyday life. Bringing that to perception, we can design soundscapes which can affect human and non-human experiences.

The book by Usue Ruiz Arana*, Urban Soundscapes: A Guide to Listening for Landscape Architecture and Urban Design, moves us from a predominantly visual culture towards attuned, ear-thinking subjects and makes propositions on how to deal with sound in urban environments.

In a short conversation with the author, Arana points out few approaches to attunement.

We often think of the urban environment as sound-negative, while we address natural sounds such as birds singing, as positive. But to quote John Cage: “If we listen to Beethoven or Mozart, you see they are always the same. But if you listen to traffic, you see it’s always different.” There is more to sound than what we listen to. What is affective listening and what role the emotions play in perceiving soundscapes?

Sound through listening, mediates the relation between communities and environments, operating at different spatial and temporal scales and different cognitive levels. In the book, I put forward a conceptual framework that encompasses three interrelated modes of listening which expand visual modes of thinking, knowing and practising landscape architecture: listening as communication, aesthetic listening and affective listening (figure 01). First, listening can help us understand a place and its communities, providing invaluable information about the character of a place and what is happening around it. Second, listening as an aesthetic pursuit can contribute to how a space is designed, used, and valued. Last, listening as a source of affective engagement with the environment, determines our actions within it.

Affective listening seeks to relate. In our interaction with the environment through listening, we are affected by the sounds and silences of the environment, regardless of their origin and regardless of whether we understand their meaning. For example, the comfort that I drew during the pandemic of listening to the blackbirds, pigeons and seagulls chattering outside my attic window was precipitated by this kind of listening. The chatter conveyed something to me through listening, even though I could not understand what the birds and gulls were saying. This chatter drew me to open my window and engage with them. In their model of embodied affectivity, psychiatrist and philosopher Tomas Fuchs and Sabine Koch draw attention to the Latin origin of the word emotion, as ‘emovere, to move out’. Emotions move us to move as a response to affections. They are our bodies’ way of telling us what matters in our world. Thus, affective listening is the most ordinary and essential mode of listening, as it mediates our interaction with the environment.

The Old Pottery, a former family-owned fireclay pottery on the outskirts of Corbridge, UK, is an example of the role of affective listening in a landscape architecture project and is featured in the book. I was commissioned, together with researcher Dan Hill, to carry out the landscape design for the site, and the Old Pottery became our sonic laboratory, where we tested how to integrate listening into everyday landscape architecture practices (fig 02). We used ecoacoustic methods to identify and monitor key bird species present on site. As we listened to birdsong and calls in time, however, we achieved more than that as we engaged with the many species that called the Old Pottery home, which shaped the creative thinking and strategic decisions about the Pottery’s future (fig 03).

Soundwalks are a useful tool for tuning in the space and assessing and mapping the conditions. There are also numerous possible visualisations of the soundscapes. There are different methodologies, practices and applications. How to choose where, what and how to listen, how to develop a practice?

All of our interventions in the landscape sound, regardless of whether we actively consider sound as we design or not. A great starting point to design with sound and through listening is to observe how different landscapes sound and why. It will depend on the activities taking place within the site and its context. On the communities inhabiting the site. On how sound filters into and travels through the site, which in turn depends on the materiality and geometry of the site (fig 04). It will also depend on the listeners, their cultural backgrounds and listening abilities. Soundwalks that focus attention on listening, as well as soundsits and field recordings that encourage long-term listening in place, are both great starting points for attuning to the environment and developing an awareness of the aural expression of landscapes (fig 05). Apex Acoustics, featured in the book, have developed an innovative approach to engaging clients through the creation of aural mood boards that communicate what prospective schemes could sound like.

As we progress through the design of a project is useful to remember that sound is not only the medium of our perception but also a creative material to work with. Sound can express or emphasise the overall concept for a site, engaging existing and future listeners with a site’s stories. Sound plays an important role in how a site functions, aiding with legibility and navigation, supporting context-based activities and adding complexity, where needed, to enrich the multisensorial experience and quality of place. Finally, auralisations, as a counterpart to visualisations, can also be used for a variety of purposes, together with visualisations or on their own: from aiding the designer in the creative process through helping designers and communities envisage how proposals will sound, to supporting planning applications, client presentations and marketing. The book points the reader towards a series of aural principles and strategies as well as ranges of auralisations that can be integrated into landscape architecture schemes (fig 06, 07).

Soundscapes and landscapes are indivisible – The sound can inform us of the identity or genius loci of a space which can inspire the aural concept of our intervention, whether reducing the negative listening experiences, accentuating specific ones or adding new ones, crafting narratives. Trees, as you point out, are sound emitters as well as listeners. What can a landscape architect do to design for all that listen? 

Every sentient body listens and is affected by sound, whether listening with ears or through vibrations in their bodies. We have traditionally planted trees, for example, to buffer noisy roads, yet research now demonstrates that noise interferes with plant roots’ ability to locate water as well as with their development. Rapidly developing research and technology are bringing us closer to how different species respond to sounds and soundscapes and how they vocalise or sound their bodies to communicate, which provides many opportunities for landscape architects to embrace (fig 08). The pandemic gave us a taste of an alternative-sounding earth, with the drastic reduction of anthropogenic sounds and increase of multispecies sounds. As we move towards life-centred or more-than-human design, we need to expand our thinking and design for the multitude of interconnected beings that we have started to hear. It is a complex task with many unknowns. Acknowledging different ways of listening and allowing space for other species’ soundings can be starting points towards that end.

It is also worth remembering that landscapes are experienced through all of the senses simultaneously and it is difficult to isolate one sensorial experience from the rest. Each sensorial system collects and decodes information differently but in a coordinated manner, to expand our understanding of place. The information that we gather through eyes and ears might be different and at times conflict, which can strengthen and validate the work of landscape architects. For example, a focus on sound might encourage alternative aesthetic evaluations of landscapes regarded as visually unappealing yet rich in biodiversity. This might be the case for example for post-industrial landscapes perceived as untidy yet aurally rich as an expression of their biodiversity. The possibilities to embrace sound and listening as landscape architects are endless!

Photo credit: Oliver Kleinschmidt

*Usue is a chartered landscape architect, researcher and educator. Her research and scholarship are concerned with advancing Landscape Architecture as a discipline uniquely positioned to address planetary health, biodiversity and climate crises, and social and eco-justice. To that end, she researches in the cross-cutting fields of acoustic ecology, multispecies collaborations and ‘research by design’. Her keen interest in design and art as forms of research informs her role as “Thinking Eye” editor of the peer review Journal of Landscape Architecture

Published on September 24, 2024