“I heard a wind and thought oh, a moving painting” – David Lynch
I am drawn to wind as a suggestive tool in shaping the emotive character and earthy topography of a soundscape, it’s a conceptual device I return to frequently. Recently I have been experimenting with creating analog wind sounds entirely without field recording, specifically using the Laney BC120 bass amp onboard EQ and the Boss GE-7 Graphic Equalizer as a refining booster.
Capable of being very loud, without any input and the gain turned up, the beat-up amp produces a dense white noise that can be dialled and sculpted firstly with the onboard 6-band EQ to highlight wind’s singular tubular whistle and roar. Then I sent it through the Boss EQ and from the 120 watt output of the amp to my interface, to increase volume and further shape the sound. I recorded a continuous, ten minute take in an act of extreme, intuitive, meditative patience.
Something about hardcore, intent focus on one or two elements allows my imagination to slip into a deeper, circumferential immersion in the creative process. I start to see, and hear, many more layers existing ephemerally beyond the apparent surface. In some respects, I feel this is a trait of mine that should be controlled with more rationale and objectivism; in sinking too deep I can lose sight of the needs of the overall composition, and outside interest. What to me contains depth and meaning along a vector of imperceptible change may to others just be thin noise, stripped of context and plain-sounding. I think it’s important to indulge my interest in details while also ensuring the overall is represented and accounted for. As an initial impetus, this was an engaging experiment for me.
Informing my fascination with wind, apart from formative rural living. In some respects I could be endlessly replicating the same sensations I felt in a blizzard on the edge on the dark Icelandic Highlands, unable to even open my eyes against the battering wind and snow, illuminated only by gift shop signage.
Collected in an album, ‘Anthology Resource Vol. I: △△’, Dean Hurley’s sound design work with David Lynch on 2017’s ‘Twin Peaks: The Return’ has inspired me greatly. The opening cue, ‘Intro Cymbal Wind’ is a perfect kernel of the entrancing, mysterious mood I find so interesting. The associative, cinematic contribution that sound has the capability of conjuring and highlighting is a quality that I am eager to explore with my project, creating spaces for the imagination to roam within.
Listening to an interview with Hurley on The ION Pod where he detailed the secretive processes behind some of the acousmatic, elusive ringing drones and winds were constructed for Twin Peaks: The Return was illuminating. The use of comb filters in particular to manipulate room tones was an approach I had not previously encountered. My own experiment is considerably more naked, so processes such as these could aid in further deepening my exploration of an element such as wind. Lynch’s 2007 exhibition soundtrack album also recorded with Hurley, ‘The Air Is on Fire’, (which was also subsequently used in part in Twin Peaks: The Return) has a similar palette, and also inspires my view of sound’s potential crossover with the fine art world, soundtracking an exhibitive space and bringing the viewer into a world outside of the gallery and potentially inside themselves.
Bibliography:
Boiler Room (2018) He Heard a Wind | Behind The Sound design In Twin peaks. 9 May. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPeiUFybVUs&t=74s
ionOne, ionTwo (2021) The Ion Pod: Ep. 38: Night Electricity Theme with Dean Hurley *UNLOCKED* [Podcast]. 16 September. Available at: https://share.transistor.fm/s/2b2fdf54 (Accessed: 17 April 2024).
David Lynch (2007) The Air Is on Fire. [Digital] New York: Strange World Music.