Helen Keller and Evelyn Glennie
Helen Keller and Evelyn Glennie
In the span of a couple of days I had my aural world re-ordered, watching Evelyn Glennie perform her sonic magic in a TED talk followed by reading a letter written by Helen Keller. It was not just music and how they experienced it that coupled these two influential women but something else quite unexpected; they are both deaf. Not to make light of their deafness, what was most interesting was the extraordinary way they "listen".
What a revelation to read the letter from Helen Keller (transcribed below). It was written to the New York Symphony Orchestra in March 1924 describing her experience listening to Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony" over the radio. I had many preconceived notions about deafness prior to my exposure to these women's highly tuned audio sensitivities. Little did I know that they "heard" in ways I hadn't contemplated...and could surely learn from. They changed my notion of what it means to "listen". They have informed my understanding about sound and it's ability to move the listener, often deeply, sometimes in ways we don't expect or understand.
Perhaps before reading the letter by Keller you might watch Glennie's TED talk to get an even deeper appreciation not only for her artistry but to put some context around Helens letter:
https://www.ted.com/talks/evelyn_glennie_how_to_truly_listen?language=en
I would not have found Evelyn’s TED talk were it not for seeing a moving documentary about her and the way she makes music in "Touch the Sound". Not only is this an amazing portrait of a unique and gifted artist whom has a great deal to say about the traditions and conventions surrounding music and how we listen, but it is an exemplary work of cinematic audio. One of the best sounding films in the last 20 years.
This notion, that sound is felt as well as heard, is not new but both Keller and Glennie take that understanding and explore its experiential value to our benefit, describing in great detail how they "listen" or, in fact, feel sound and the ways sound influenced them.
It is the exposure to these women and their insights that reinforces my observation that Sound is unique among our five senses given its ability to excite two of them at the same time. Not only is the cochlea excited by the sound waves that reach our ears for hearing, our skin is also excited, a byproduct of the physical properties of sound waves themselves. In one sense this physical sensation of sound, as opposed to the aural sensation, is a muted form of hearing. The part of the nervous system dedicated to touch just isn't tuned to the frequencies and doesn't transmit the same electrical signals to the brain. Or does it? Perhaps these women are listening on a whole different level than the rest of us.
I believe there is a great deal to learn from both of these women and their insights on how we listen. Here is Helen Keller:
Dear Friends:
I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony.” I do not mean to say that I “heard” the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy. Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel, not only the vibration, but also the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roil of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments! When the human voices leaped up thrilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices more ecstatic, upcurving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth – an ocean of heavenly vibration – and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.
Of course this was not “hearing,” but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sense, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand-swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.
As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others – and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine.
(this text is reproduced with gratitude to Helen Seldson and the American Foundation for the Blind, copied from: The Auricle, Vol. II, No. 6, March 1924. American Foundation for the Blind, Helen Keller Archives.)
Kellers poetic understanding of sound and the ways it moves the soul is inspirational. Surely a musician stirs deep inside. Or a nascent sound designer.
While Dolby Labs may have invented the technology for the subwoofer as we know it, Keller is surely its patron saint.
I was reminded of my own childhood, seeing the picture of her touching the giant speaker inside of the radio. As a kid, I loved these same physical sensations and would cozy up to the hefty floor mounted speakers attached to my Dads hi-fi system, loving the moments when the basses bowed or the orchestra drum boomed. The joy of the physical sensations of sound were not lost on me. But it took the deep insights of these two women to help me understand them better.
Thursday, February 18, 2021