by Jennifer Lindsay
In the summer of 2024, as an Artist-in-Residence I facilitated three soundscape workshops as part of The Situated Neurology research team’s interest in making and doing and arts-informed research creation. Invitations to participate were extended to people with moderate to severe brain injuries from BIST, BIAYR, and BIAPH (community-based organizations that provide resources and support for people with brain injuries in the Greater Toronto Area of Ontario). We had 3 people volunteer to participate. The workshops took place in a variety of settings where each participant was invited to answer the overarching question, “What does my brain injury sound like?” Using principles of acoustics, the workshops were thematically linked through reflection, absorption, and transmission.
Our interest in soundscapes: The Situated Neurology team explores the role of sounds in our research by adopting Natalie Loveless’ notions of veering away from text-based research and leaning towards sound and orality. In simple terms, a soundscape is a series of sounds – human, non-human, machine-generated, natural, and sometimes musical – that are weaved together to tell a story. The use of soundscapes is a novel methodology used by a range of interdisciplinary scholars and artists that allows us to explore other ways of hearing, and other ways of being in the world (see for instance Charette, Lima, and Elliott 2022).
As an interdisciplinary artist who works across mediums of theatre, film, ceramics, and sound, and a graduate student studying the social study of neuroscience, I’ve learned that my art practice and research have come to rely on one another. Elements of my arts practice that were previously self-referential now draw from feminist science and technology studies that inhabit communal knowledge making. Further, my studies have helped me explore arts-based pathways to disability justice within the academy, as well as medical and policy settings. Facilitating these workshops is a recent gesture of my art practice and research coming together.
Workshops
I facilitated a series of three workshops with the intention to guide and support the participants: from introducing them to sound studies to developing their own soundscapes.
Workshop 1 was hosted at United Contemporary Gallery in Toronto. The purpose of this workshop was to meet as a group, build a foundational understanding of what a soundscape could be, and begin to think about our brain injuries through sound. It included a brief history of sound in social research (e.g. military aircraft noise, climate change, subjugated bodies, and bodies in pain), communal listening and response (e.g. Two Soundmarks in Sydney by Ely Rosenblum, Kits Beach Sound Walk by Hildegard WesterKemp, The World in my Mailbox by Tony Schwartz, and Stuart Fowkes's Cities & Memory), as well as great discussion of prompts (e.g. can you tell me something about your brain injury story that is hard to communicate with words? What sounds do you hear when you go about your day? If you use ear plugs or an assistive device, how do you hear?).
Figure 1: Steps in Coxwell Ravine Park, Toronto, Ontario, Canada (Photo Credit: Jennifer Lindsay)
Workshop 2 involved one-on-one sound walks. Lead by the participants, the walks were one hour in length and occurred in different locations in the city of Toronto: paths under the Don Valley Parkway, the heart of the Annex, and side streets off Corso Italia on St. Clair. Participants had the option to be supplied with a recorder or use their smart phone and were encouraged to collect sounds that were meaningful to them. Prompts that were passed during Workshop 1 were reiterated (e.g. can you tell me about the most meaningful moment during your brain injury recovery?). Recorders were left with participants who felt comfortable to continue capturing sounds up until a couple of days before Workshop 3.
Workshop 3, we returned to United Contemporary Gallery as a group where we listened to a selection of participant recordings and mapped out sound story boards by title. Participants provided me with direction on how they wished to have their soundscapes edited, and we engaged in thorough discussion. Encouraged to consider tempo, flow, tone, and vibration, prompts included: how does this sound feel in your body? Are there sounds that you enjoy more over others? How might your voice sound different inside your head versus what you’re hearing in this workshop?
Reflection
Reflection in the context of sound is defined as soundwaves moving from one place to another. Regarded as one of the many principles of acoustics, reflection is used to summarize initial interactions with sound studies by the participants.
Prior to kicking off Workshop 1, two participants demonstrated their Bluetooth assistive hearing devices. One participant referred to their health practitioner as an ear ball doctor. An interesting take on the crossover between the senses of seeing and hearing. Functionality of the devices included adjusting frequencies and vibrations to prevent migraines as well as helping with hearing (e.g. one’s own voice and music).
Learning how participants related to sound was a highlight of Workshop 1. Primary reflections included discomfort, absence, and anticipation. In response to Kits Beach Sound Walk, one participant expressed discomfort over the sound of water clashing with the voiceover. They found the sound of water a distraction. So much so, they described the speaker as talking though water.
During another participant’s selection of Stuart Fowkes's Cities & Memory, we listened to the sound of a baby breastfeeding in Copenhagen, Denmark. They requested we play the sound clip several times because they could not hear it. The participant never heard it despite multiple replays.
After listening to all the soundscapes, another participant mentioned that they are attuned to sounds that are out of place. For example, they anticipate the sounds they expect to hear during their daily routine in their apartment. If there is a sound outside of what they expect, it can cause them distress.
Absorption
Absorption, another principle of acoustics, refers to the interaction between soundwaves and a surface. Sound is sucked up. Absorption is used as a metaphor in this section to describe the period when knowledge of sound studies was understood by participants, sound recordings were collected, and underlining concepts were revealed.
As an early-stage researcher with a brain injury, conceptual intersections of Staying with the Trouble (Haraway, 2016, pp. 2-8), Poppy Budsworth’s rendition of Matters of Care (Budsworth, 2023, pp. 2-7 and de la Bellacasa, 2017, pp. 86-106), and Feminist Queer Crip (Kafer, 2013, pp. 20-28) remained top of mind during these workshops. In the course of our time together, participants showed up: early, unexpectedly, late, not at all, in pain, and/or needed to depart in the middle of an activity because their brain injury symptoms were triggered.
Within the confines of gallery and sound walk clock time, participants were individually and collectively met where they were at (e.g. experiencing chronic invisible and visible symptoms of brain injury, reminded they could leave for any reason without having to explain, and encouraged to voice discomfort at any time). The group tended to each other’s clocks with care (e.g. checking in with each other, active listening no matter how long it took, as well as pausing and adapting during unexpected arrival, or lateness). Communication was agile (frequency, volume, switching workshop reminders from email to text or phone calls, taking one-on-one time in group environments as needed).
Transmission
Transmission is defined as the communication of sound. This principle of acoustics invites us back to the overarching question, “What does my brain injury sound like?”
After cultivating soundscape foundations and collecting meaningful sounds, we made sound art! Two participants made between five and eleven recordings each totalling 20 minutes, while another participant made over 60 recordings totalling several hours.
During our collective listening session, participants composed sound mapping titles, including but not limited to: Having Accessible Transit, City Bird Symphony, Plane Overhead Marsh, A Million Steps to the Sounds of Birds, and Annoying Air. There was a collective desire to present sounds in chronological order to form their soundscape. You can listen to the soundscapes here:
Limitations and Conclusion
As the workshop series ended, it felt like we were only just getting started. This was both exciting and limiting. Especially for the participant who captured several hours of recordings. Their sound recordings are worthy of an entirely different project altogether.
Soundscapes offer an opportunity for brain injury research to be embodied (Spatz, 2017, pp. 1-7). That is not to imply that by listening to a soundscape created by a person with a brain injury you will feel what they feel. Rather, it will bring your attention closer to the numerous consequences of it. Soundscapes offer an alternative form of understanding ‘being’, a counter to clinical narratives that generally dominate descriptions of brain injuries.
Figure 2: Pathway underneath Don Valley Parkway, Toronto, Ontario, Canada (Photo Credit: Jennifer Lindsay)
During these workshops, we learned that participants chose locations for sound collection based on how they manage chronic pain, connect with community, as well as conduct their own research on accessibility and food scarcity.
We learned that participants are on their own sound clocks. They prepare for the labour of sound before it begins through assistive devices, voice, or intentionally silence their expression of pain or discomfort (sharing in safe spaces or advocating for themselves in an emergency versus not wanting to be a burden on others including family members), and contend with sonic warfare on a daily basis (noise pollution by way of air ducts, ambulances passing by, deafening frequencies, as well as the violence of being silenced or not included).
We learned that participants are full of desire to connect, be seen, help each other, and be well. Reader, just like you and me. In the end, the participants and I all agree that sound-based arts research offers deeper and more complex understandings of life with brain trauma.
I am grateful for how generous our collaborators were. They shared so much, and they didn’t let me off easy. As someone with a brain injury, they expected that I answer the same prompts I posed to them. In the spirit of ensuring the participants were the focal point of co-producing sound knowledge in these workshops, I did answer prompts, but I did not make a soundscape of my own. Upon reflection I am now asking myself, why not? Food for thought for another workshop to come.
Works Cited
Budsworth, P. (2023). Care, comfort, and capacity: The importance of being flexible in research with Disabled and chronically ill people. SSM - Qualitative Research in Health 4, 1-9. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ssmqr.2023.100352
Charette, M., Lima, E., & Elliott, D. (2022) Sonic Stories: Living with an Injured Mind.
Multimodality and Society 2(2): 165-173.
de la Bellacasa, M.P. (2017). Matters of Care in Technoscience: Assembling Neglected Things. University of Minnesota Press.
Haraway, D.J. (2016). Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Duke
University Press.
Kafer, A. (2013) Feminist Queer Crip. Indiana University Press.
Spatz, B. (2017). Embodied research: A methodology. Liminalities, 13(2).
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