Blog #2 - What I Hear
The “city symphony” became apparent to me as I walked through the streets of Greenwich Village. The cars driving through the streets, the sounds of their engines trailing off. The grinding noise of construction. The occasional police siren or car alarm. The rumble of the subway under open vents. And of course, the brief snippets of conversations that I will never know the context of. All elements I had been aware of, but hearing them together, I began to feel a sense of awe. The city was alive in a way I never noticed. I was one with the urban environment.
In regards to the parts of the symphony, the construction sounds and distant alarms would be the keynotes. The most prominent “sound signals” would have to be the cars driving by. They really provide a sense of relaxation, sort of like listening to waves at the beach. Underscoring the cars are the footsteps of the people walking by, overlaid by their conversations as they walk past. The conversations can be in different languages, showcasing the location’s diversity. The sound of the subway through the vents is another sound signal, one that says that even as you walk down the street, people are traveling under you. As night falls, the symphony dies down. The cars are still there, but there’s less construction and quieter conversations. A calm is beginning to set upon the city.
As for the soundmarks, there’s one sound I can think of unique to Greenwich Village. In the entrance to Washington Square Park, there’s a man playing classic songs on guitar. Whenever I see him, he’s always in the same spot, and he recognizes me. If I can, I’ll give him money, because he’s really good. Honestly, there’s a lot of people in Washington Square Park playing instruments for money, and even more around Greenwich Village, but he’s always been in the same spot, because this is his city, and I guess that’s his spot. I notice that the Village is filled with artists just trying to make a living, and the thing is that a lot of them are really talented. I don’t even know that man’s name, but when I enter Washington Square Park, I wonder if he’s there. The songs he plays provide something extra to the symphony as I walk past him.
In regards to the parts of the symphony, the construction sounds and distant alarms would be the keynotes. The most prominent “sound signals” would have to be the cars driving by. They really provide a sense of relaxation, sort of like listening to waves at the beach. Underscoring the cars are the footsteps of the people walking by, overlaid by their conversations as they walk past. The conversations can be in different languages, showcasing the location’s diversity. The sound of the subway through the vents is another sound signal, one that says that even as you walk down the street, people are traveling under you. As night falls, the symphony dies down. The cars are still there, but there’s less construction and quieter conversations. A calm is beginning to set upon the city.
As for the soundmarks, there’s one sound I can think of unique to Greenwich Village. In the entrance to Washington Square Park, there’s a man playing classic songs on guitar. Whenever I see him, he’s always in the same spot, and he recognizes me. If I can, I’ll give him money, because he’s really good. Honestly, there’s a lot of people in Washington Square Park playing instruments for money, and even more around Greenwich Village, but he’s always been in the same spot, because this is his city, and I guess that’s his spot. I notice that the Village is filled with artists just trying to make a living, and the thing is that a lot of them are really talented. I don’t even know that man’s name, but when I enter Washington Square Park, I wonder if he’s there. The songs he plays provide something extra to the symphony as I walk past him.
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