Office Storm - Notes on our Soundscape

Paul Miller aka DJ Spooky says in Rhythm Science that there’s always a factor of randomness or coincidence in DJ-ing. I wonder if this can be said for most (or even all art)… it is certainly true of our soundscape. Using a recording program that scrambles, repeats, and changes the speed and pitch of recorded noises, our goal was to capture the sounds of one person alone (for the most part) in an office. In the final product, it doesn’t sound at all like just one person. Footsteps, typing and other office sounds are multiplied to a point where the listener is unable to tell how many people are part of the soundscape; but further, all the little office sounds take on a life (and a character) of their own; some of them simply sound amplified (such as the footsteps down the hallway in the beginning), and some are almost unrecognizable, giving them more of a presence, taking them across the border from unwanted background noise to desired sound. And with all the office sounds coming to life, the one person (let’s call her “Mary” – hehe) in the soundscape does not seem so “alone” anymore. Little moments of “voice” remind the listener of her presence; the soundscape’s focus is certainly not just the sound environment of the office, but just as much the human presence in it, fitting in seamlessly, down to the all-too-common “oh crap.”
Then, as the listener just got used to one person surrounded by the sounds of inanimate objects, suddenly there is an avalanche of unexpected voices. Two people stop by the office, exchanging some painfully stereotypical office small talk phrases with Mary. However, listening to it after the recording process, it sounds much more chaotic (and, surprisingly, more noise-like) than the office object sounds. It is as if a room full of people was talking at the same time; the listener can only make out parts of the conversation – even though what we recorded was a short, typical, easy-to-follow exchange. Listening to it now, it reminds me of how I used to feel at my office when I had no internet at home; I used to come in early, 7 a.m. sometimes, and for about an hour I’d be the only person on the floor of Eiesland Hall. I would get so used to having the space to myself that sometimes the arrival of other TAs would almost feel like an intrusion, and I would be so tired (and possibly not up for pleasantries yet) that any sort of communication felt more like a chore, not something I could (or wanted to) fully concentrate on yet. That is the feeling that echoes with me when I hear the soundscape, and when the two visitors leave (“Bye! Bye! Bye! Bye!”) and the scene turns quiet again, more than my eardrums are relieved.
There are other instances that can only be attributed to chance… “Oh crap!” is followed by what sounds (to me, at least), angry thunder, followed by starting rain – you figure out what the sounds actually are. The way that such cold, hard office noises turn out sounding so organic and almost liquid took me by surprise, and I think it adds a great deal to the soundscape. Of course, I listened to it over and over late at night, so I may not be the best judge of it. Maybe the piece should come with an instruction sheet, telling the listener to play it over and over and over, while refusing to sleep and drinking far too much coffee?