Routledge Handbook of Human-Animal Studies

Metascience , 2019

This presentation was given in a slightly abbreviated form as part of an illustrated talk with Jane Chapman at the Royal College of Music on 28th June 2012. References are appended. I’m happy to supply examples on request (andrewwoolley [at] sapo.pt). Comments and questions also welcome.

2013

In this article I investigate how and why birdsong is regularly excluded from definitions of music. I argue that to claim human exceptionalism for this capacity is highly premature, since so few avian species have been investigated in any depth. A catalogue of objections to the contention that birdsong is music suggests numerous intra-and inter-disciplinary 'disconnects'. I note that the default yardstick of Western art music is pervasive and that many researchers cling to the nature/culture divide despite recent activity framing natureculture as a continuum. I conclude by suggesting that the time has come to abandon our uncritical preference for human capacities and open ourselves (and our respective disciplines) to the possibility of creativity and agency in nonhuman others. Mots-clés birdsong, ethology, human exceptionalism, music, natureculture, pied butcherbird, zoömusicology Résumé Dans cet article l'auteur tente de comprendre comment et pourquoi les chants d'oiseaux sont systématiquement exclus des définitions de la musique. Elle affirme que revendiquer une quelconque exception humaine pour cette capacité est extrêmement prématuré étant donné qu'à ce jour très peu d'espèces aviaires ont été exhaustivement étudiées. Le catalogage des différentes objections à ce que les chants d'oiseaux soient de la musique suggère qu'il existe de nombreux 'cloisonnements' intra-et inter-disciplinaires. L'auteur note que la mesure par défaut selon les critères de l'art musical occidental est largement répandue et que de nombreux chercheurs se cramponnent à l'opposition nature/culture en dépit de tentatives récentes de définition de la natureculture comme continuum. Elle

Described by Norman Lebrecht as "David Attenborough without the pictures and accompanying orchestra" Bernie Krause, a musician and naturalist, has spent over forty years recording and archiving the sounds found in non-human environments, what he terms "wild soundscapes". In his latest book, The Great Animal Orchestra: finding the origins of music in the world's wild places, he provides the reader with descriptions of some of the planet's more intriguing bioacoustic soundscapes and how they may have contributed to the origins and evolution of both music and human speech. Dividing sounds into three categories, 1.) biophany, those sounds made by animals and plants; 2.) geophany, natural sounds such as those made by wind and rain; and 3.) anthrophany, the human-induced noises that more often than not disrupts the ecosystems that experience them, Krause makes an important contribution to the growing body of work on work on auditory spaces, primarily discussed in the more experimental fields of acoustic ecology and sonic geography, with Boyd and Duffy , and Gallagher and Prior (2013) being two recent contributors to those sub-disciplines.

Our world is filled with innumerable natural sounds, and from the earliest times humans have been intrigued and inspired by this “soundscape.” People who live close to nature perceive a wider range of sounds than those of us living in industrialized societies, who rely heavily on advances in sound technology. The sounds of whales in the ocean, for example, were first recorded in the 1940s, yet the Tlingit, Inuit, and other seafaring tribes have been hearing them through the hulls of their boats for millennia. Similarly, the ultralow frequency communications of elephants [HN1] have only just been recorded even though the Hutu and Tutsi tribes of central East Africa have incorporated these sounds into their songs and stories for centuries. It is said that every known human culture has music. Music has been defined as patterns of sound varying in pitch and time produced for emotional, social, cultural, and cognitive purposes (1). Is music-making in humans defined by our genes? [HN2] Do other species show musical language and expression? If they do, what kinds of behavior invoke music making in these animals? Is there evidence in the animal kingdom for the ability to create and recreate a musical language with established musical sounds? How are musical sounds used to communicate within and between species? Do musical sounds in nature reveal a profound bond between all living things?

Schweizer Jahrbuch für Musikwissenschaft, Neue Folge 41, 2024

Birdsong has long been a source of fascination for humans. Interest in the intricate connection between human perception and the acoustic characteristics of diverse environments is prominent across various academic disciplines, as emphasized in this special issue. Employing a multi-sited ethnographic approach, the "Seeking Birdscapes" project (2019-2023) centred on examining the listening practices of individuals with ornithological and musical training. Its goal was to understand their auditory sensibilities and how they conceptualized their experiences and perceptions within so-called natural settings. Based in a music department, the project also sought to reevaluate the importance of (human and non-human made) sounds and explore the use of technological media in the context of avifauna.

Social Science Information, 2013

In this article I investigate how and why birdsong is regularly excluded from definitions of music. I argue that to claim human exceptionalism for this capacity is highly premature, since so few avian species have been investigated in any depth. A catalogue of objections to the contention that birdsong is music suggests numerous intra- and inter-disciplinary ‘disconnects’. I note that the default yardstick of Western art music is pervasive and that many researchers cling to the nature/culture divide despite recent activity framing natureculture as a continuum. I conclude by suggesting that the time has come to abandon our uncritical preference for human capacities and open ourselves (and our respective disciplines) to the possibility of creativity and agency in nonhuman others.

Native Americans have long been aware that there is a symphony of natural sounds where each creature voice performs as an integral part of an animal orchestra. They are not alone. Indigenous cultures throughout the world are keenly aware of the power and influence of natural sound in each of their musical creations. As an artist and naturalist, l have long been fascinated by the ways in which hunters from non-industrial societies determine types, numbers, and conditions of game and other creatures hundreds of meters distant through dark forest undergrowth by sound where nothing appears to the Western eye or our untrained ear to be especially distinct. As we are primarily a visual culture, no longer connected to what environments can tell us through sound, we've lost aural acuity once central to the dynamic of our lives.

Chimera, 2013

Described by Norman Lebrecht as "David Attenborough without the pictures and accompanying orchestra" Bernie Krause, a musician and naturalist, has spent over forty years recording and archiving the sounds found in non-human environments, what he terms "wild soundscapes". In his latest book, The Great Animal Orchestra: finding the origins of music in the world's wild places, he provides the reader with descriptions of some of the planet's more intriguing bioacoustic soundscapes and how they may have contributed to the origins and evolution of both music and human speech. Dividing sounds into three categories, 1.) biophany, those sounds made by animals and plants; 2.) geophany, natural sounds such as those made by wind and rain; and 3.) anthrophany, the human-induced noises that more often than not disrupts the ecosystems that experience them, Krause makes an important contribution to the growing body of work on work on auditory spaces, primarily discussed in the more experimental fields of acoustic ecology and sonic geography, with being two recent contributors to those sub-disciplines.

In recent years, questions regarding music, sound, and nature have intensified. This intensification is visible in various domains of musical practice, such as the increased audibility of composers involved in acoustic ecology as both practitioners within and theorizers of the field; the global presence of sound collectives employing audio recordings and music scholarship for the purpose of denouncing environmental problems; and the emergence of what are considered "new fields" of study, such as ecomusicology, biomusic, and zoomusicology. This coincides with a growing interest in listening and in sound as phenomena and the institutionalization of sound studies as a disciplinary field.¹ Finally, it coincides with a renewed I thank Julio Ramos, Jairo Moreno, and Gavin Steingo for helpful critical and generous conversations and comments, and Margaret Havran for her editorial work on this essay. I would also like to thank Arturo Escobar and Enrique Leff for their help and encouragement, even though a deeper engagement with the specific elements of their work has inevitably been left for another moment. The responsibility of the content of this essay is, of course, mine. Unless otherwise noted, all translations are my own. 1. Jonathan Sterne, ed., The Sound Studies Reader (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2012); Michael Bull, ed., Sound Studies (London: Routledge, 2013).