Writing Project #3: The Davidson Soundscape

Abstract

There comes three times in a Davidson student’s day where they make a vital decision on how they will fill their sleep deprived, empty bellies. Most of the time it’s actually only twice (exclude the pre-8:30 a.m. class breakfast). There are, however, a limited amount of options when it comes to this decision. For on-campus dining, Union and Commons are the only two choices. However, when a student makes the daring decision to escape the barriers of Davidson’s campus and enter the town of Davidson’s Main Street, there becomes options galore for dining purposes. One of the most popular destinations for Davidson students is The Famous Toastery. When I embarked on my journey to explore these three different locations, I focused on the different audial connotations and how they each shaped my experience. Bringing in critical context from R. Murray Schafer and Emily Thompson as well as Richard Cullen Rath, I wanted to find out if what I observed and heard in these three spaces gave me a better understanding as to why a Davidson student would choose one over the other on any given day. Each location brought me to very different conclusions, and I found that the audial surroundings in each definitely do affect our decisions, whether we realize it or not.

Each of the three dining options has a very different cultural atmosphere. The histories, physical set up, and social life all contribute to making each space unique. I had some preconceived notions of what each space would tell me going in. However, I allowed myself to focus on what I heard in tandem with what I saw, leading to my conclusions and analysis. R. Murray Schafer emphasizes my understanding by explaining that “a soundscape consists of events heard not objects seen” (Schafer 99). I intended to let my hearing lead the way.

The Alvarez Student Union is full of socializing students, moving back and forth from the cafe itself and to their tables full of friends. However, there remains a cohort of students who use Union as a study space. They sit quietly on their laptops, headphones in, focused on the work at hand. The unique audial choices offer such different experiences: one is full of inaudible chatter and distinct soundmarks, like the yelling of random names like “Jim” or “Sarah” from the chef behind the counter that fill the space with life. According to Schafer, a soundmark “possesses qualities which make it specially regarded or noticed by the people in that community” (Schafer 101). The repeated yelling of these names is heard and noticed by everyone in the cafe, adding to the audial experience of dining in Union. The other audial choice is filled with the music and privacy the headphones give the student, blocking them out from the hectic surroundings. I, for one, chose the more social option of the two and stuck myself right in the middle of Union at a table.

At first, it was hard for me to decipher certain voices and conversations. The open floor plan of Union allows for voices to travel far and wide, creating a space full of indistinct noise. Shafer defines these noises as “the sounds we have learned to ignore” (Schafer 95). I realized this to be true; as I sat at my table, everything seemed to blend together; however, after truly focusing in on my listening, I could pull out different and specific conversations that the people around me were partaking in. I heard a few upperclassmen discussing their “March Madness brackets,” as a friend of mine, William Yeo, strolled by and said hello. He seemed to be in a hurry as he walked towards the doors that led outside to the football field. I then realized that many of the people in Union were only partial occupants; many of them were in and out: grabbing a snack or picking something up. Most of them were out in a matter of minutes, hardly contributing to the soundscape itself at all, keeping to themselves and exiting the premise. I heard the different keynotes: the distant sound of the piano and tv. Schafer describes keynotes as sounds that “are overheard but cannot be overlooked, for keynote sounds become listening habits in spite of themselves” (Schafer 100). All of these sounds contributed and butted into the broader conversing that dominated the space. These people who decided to stay and converse filled the space with energy and vitality, making Union a unique soundscape with three distinctly different experiences unfolding into one environment.

As I travelled to my next location, Vail Commons, I walked in thinking about the unique social and historical context Commons offers compared to other dining options. Commons is somewhat of a landmark on campus, being one of the most recognizable and popular buildings for students and visitors alike. It is also one of the older buildings on campus and has a richer and longer history than that of Union, contributing to a more communal feel. As I walked in and began listening at my table, I noticed the larger groups of people that filled the seats around me. Commons is set up with long tables that seat around 20 people, and many of these tables fill up as bigger groups of friends, teammates, and classmates sit together and form more group oriented conversations. As I focused on my listening, it was harder to pull out distinct conversations and soundmarks. Similarly to Union, Commons has a wide open floor plan, allowing for sound to travel and mix together and create a soundscape that is full of noise. “Like a landscape, a soundscape is simultaneously a physical environment and a way of perceiving that environment” (Thompson 117). Thompson argues here that the physical space around what I hear affects how we hear things. This physical set up, combined with the larger conversations, created an environment that emphasized community more so than Union. I noticed people coming in in flocks, listening to large groups of at least 5 or 6 students who seemed to share some type of connection. Whether it was a group of teammates after practice or a large group of friends after class, it was clear that these groups planned together to eat at Commons. One asked, “How did that test go for you? I thought it was hard.” Immediately, different replies were given by his classmates, all discussing their experience that happened minutes before. I then turned to my left to hear the laughters of multiple students come together to create a simultaneous laugh, one you hear on corny television shows with the automated recordings of laughter. I then was interrupted by a keynote, the clattering of pans and dishes behind the serving counters as chefs and servers worked in close quarters to the students who ate only feet away from their workspace. It quickly became apparent to me that Commons brought a more communal atmosphere than Union did. No one was in and out for a snack or even silently typing away at their computers. It was a space encompassed by group and community, arguably the only place on campus that offers this type of environment, making Commons an extremely unique addition to Davidson’s campus and dining options.

Lastly, and possibly the most different option of the three, The Famous Toastery was my last destination for my analysis. First and foremost, leaving Davidson’s campus will automatically cause a different experience for students. Straying away from the privacy of a small liberal arts campus and going into the public adds a new level to the dining experience. When I walked into Toast, I first noticed the lack of students there. Although there were a few familiar faces here and there, the restaurant was filled with adults and families who come from outside the bubble of Davidson College. The lay out of the restaurant immediately presented a different audial experience than that of Union or Commons. Tables of only two to four people, rarely bigger than that, were close together and compact, filling a small room and tight space. As I sat down at a table for two with my friend, I quickly noticed how easy it was to pick up on nearby conversations. The table next to us, inhabited by a young man and woman (probably high school age) as well as their mother, discussed the boy’s last basketball game, going over his performance and the team’s win. I was interrupted by a signal coming from our waitress, asking us what we would like to drink. “Signals are foreground sounds… which must be listened to because they constitute acoustic warning devices” (Schafer 101). After she left, I heard her ask the same question to the aforementioned family, coming to the realization that although her generic question may have been a signal for me, it can become a soundmark when not directed towards my table. I would actively listen to her question when it was asked towards me, but would only notice it if asked towards another table. Consequently, the smaller room made the sounds that the customers produced louder, but the conversations were more private. It didn’t feel like a group affair where everyone in the restaurant shared similar experiences, but rather was encompassed by several separate individual conversations taking place all around me. I heard laughter coming from different tables, the setting down of plates and glasses nearby, and the cash register clinging when ringing up an order. Everything was easier to hear, but harder to contribute to. While being more of an investment to patronize for a Davidson student in terms of distance and money, Toast offers a more privatized environment that caters to people who desire to eat and converse with one or two other individuals. For these reasons, the Famous Toastery is very distinct from the other two on-campus choices.

After visiting and listening to these different soundscapes, I first thought about how my experience shaped my conclusions. For instance, there is a stark difference between what I came to see versus what I came to hear. My initial findings and conclusions were based on what I observed with the people who made up the soundscape; however, these inclinations were either shifted or confirmed after solely focusing on what I heard. For instance, the people coming in and out of union: that was observed by my own eyes; however, the large conversations I listened to at Commons were heard by my ears. I combined these different observations and listenings to create what I thought was a good synopsis of each location. When focusing on the physical space itself I pondered the idea of how the set up of the area was chosen. Were Commons and Union purposely set up to create an environment that pushed community? Or was what I heard the reason for this set up? I wanted to pay close attention to how that affected my experience. Richard Cullen Rath discusses the origins of this acoustic observation when examining the past historians who studied it: “They carefully attended to the audible world when they created and shaped public–and in some cases, not so public–spaces” (Rath 131). Although it is hard to come to a sound conclusion on this question, the debate itself aided in my understanding of my surroundings. Clearly Commons and Union share many similarities in terms of being large spaces that push community and togetherness. However, what I discovered was that there are many different types of audial experiences in each location. Would a hungry Davidson student who needed to finish a paper go to Commons or Union? The answer can’t be blanketed over the entire student body; however, after observing and listening to each location, Union seems like the more viable option. Would a hungry Davidson student who wanted to get lunch with only two other friends go to Commons or Toast? After focusing on the acoustics at each location, Toast seems like the more favorable answer. Although these dining options all share similarities and differences, it is important to recognize that what we experience audibly in these locations has some type of effect on where we all decide to go eat. Sometimes it’s not the food itself that makes your decision, but rather the experience that surrounds your food.

Works Cited

1. Schafer, R. Murray. “The Soundscape,” in The Sound Studies Reader, edited by Jonathan Sterne, 95–103. New York: Routledge, 2012.
2. Thompson, Emily. “Sound, Modernity and History,” in The Sound Studies Reader, edited by Jonathan Sterne, 117–29. New York: Routledge, 2012.
3. Rath, Richard Cullen. “No Corner for the Devil to Hide.” In The Sound Studies Reader. Edited by Jonathan Sterne. London: Routledge, 2012.

Davidson College has a rich social and academic history rooted in its establishment all the way back in 1837.  In this piece I analyze the soundscapes of different spaces around campus, their functions and how they intersect.  The first of these is the Summit Coffee Co., a coffee shop on Patterson Court frequented by many Davidson students. Next, the E.H. Little library, a staple of the College’s academic focus and prowess.  Finally, the Alvarez College Union, a central hub for students and faculty with a bevy of different purposes. Through visiting and listening to the acoustic ecologies of these spaces, I hope to explain the culture and balance of academic and social aspects of Davidson College.

Academic spaces are a cornerstone of any college or university.  After all that is the primary function of most of these institutions.  However, many other important places involved in college life serve a social purpose.  Over time, Davidson College has cemented itself as a top liberal arts institution on the basis of academics.  Yet, even with a consistent focus of students and faculty encouraging learning, Davidson has also created an environment that promotes social growth. This can be seen by analyzing the soundscapes of various places around campus.  The soundscape according to R. Murray Schafer is an “acoustic field of study” that “consists of events heard not objects seen” (Schafer 99). The soundscapes of Summit Coffee Co., the E.H. Little Library, and the Alvarez College Union offer a glimpse into the culture of Davidson and the balance between academic and social aspects of a space.

I walk up the front steps and into the Summit Coffee Co. and I am immediately greeted by a buzz of noise.  Typical coffee shop music plays over the speakers and various conversations echo through the shop. The door squeaks shut and I grab a seat near the middle of the room.  It’s a Sunday afternoon and Summit is fairly busy, every table or booth is taken by at least a few students. Most either have headphones in or are bobbing their head to the music being played overhead.  A few groups are typing on their computers while talking and laughing, their voices reverberate across the walls of the small one-room establishment. The acoustic environment of Summit appeared to be full of different sounds that Schafer would describe as signals, “foreground sounds that are listened to consciously… which must be listened to because they constitute acoustic warning” (Schafer 101).  The sharp squeal of a coffee maker from behind the counter, the hard clink of metal glasses knocking together, or the creaking of dated wood floorboards caused by the baristas footsteps are sounds that constitute as signals for Summit’s soundscape.  The prevalence of these signal noises and the knowledge of what type of space Summit Coffee Co. is, a coffee shop, leads to the conclusion that while Summit does not discourage academic usage, its purpose on Davidson’s campus is one that is primarily social.  This comes as a contrast to the next soundscape I studied.

As I enter through the double glass doors of the E.H. Little Library one of the first things I notice are the vibrant colors of the space, bright yellow and teal chairs contrast against the Davidson red carpet.  The sound of the space is much more tame than it is visually. As I take a seat near the back corner of the room scattered conversations between students catch my ear, and the dull drone of the refrigerated vending machine becomes the most prominent noise in the room.  The E.H. Little library as a space serves an important academic role at Davidson. Not only does it house the Teaching and Learning Center, as well as nearly every book, text, or academic resource of campus, but it’s also a common place to study for students. Many are scattered across the vast first floor of the library, writing on paper or whiteboards, clicking away on their computers, or reading books from one of the numerous bookcases that make up the east side of the first floor.  

The cooling cycle of the nearby vending machine cuts out and the acoustic ecology of the space changed drastically.  Immediately it sounds even more silent, before I notice a printer quietly whizzing from across the room. Although the space is quite open and socializing is allowed on the first floor, the library remains relatively quiet during nearly all hours of the day.  The purpose of the E.H. Little library and the characteristics of its soundscape reveal that it serves a mostly academic function on Davidson College’s campus.

There is dull murmur of scattered conversations, a catchy commercial emanating from the nearby television tuned in to March Madness games, the occasional crack of two billiards balls colliding.  I’m sitting at a high top table near the large fireplace inside the Alvarez College Union. One of the central hubs of the Davidson, the Union is one place that many would say embodies Davidson College.  Students and staff members often frequent the Davis Cafe, the mail area or the numerous activities available within the walls. As I recorded my soundscape I noticed that the sound of Alvarez Union didn’t seem terribly unique.  Instead it is a mixture of the environments of both the library and Summit. This is because Union has an incredibly diverse amount of uses for Davidson students, combining the social uses of places like Summit, and the academic uses of somewhere like the library.  The architecture of the building also plays a role in the way sounds are heard throughout the space. The Knobloch Campus Center, the building where the College Union can be found, was formerly Johnston Gymnasium. The gym was home to both varsity and intramural sports and even an indoor pool.  The acoustics of the building still reflect its original purpose. The open floor plan and high ceilings cause noise to carry and travel much easier than in other buildings on campus. This feature benefits a rowdy gym but is likely not intended for a purely academic space. The activities available in the Union are also not limited to academics.  Students and their peers can play Super Smash Bros or Mario Kart on the game systems located downstairs, grab a bite to eat at Davis Cafe while watching television or playing pool or foosball, or work out with weights or cardio in one of the campus weight rooms. Due to all of this carrying background noise, a common type of sound found in the Alvarez Union that Schafer describes is a keynote sound.  They are sounds that are not consciously listened to but rather, “are overheard but cannot be overlooked” (Schafer 101) The keynote sounds found in either the academic or social areas of Davidson can be found together at the union. The shuffling of students, a zipper opening a bookbag, the soft crackle of the fireplace or the aforementioned dull murmur of conversation all constitute this soundscapes keynote sounds.  

Academics and social development are both foundational aspects of the college experience.  The spaces on campus where students interact with each other socially and interact with academics also help to influence the college experience.  Whether students are talking with friends while listening to music at Summit Coffee Co., studying for an upcoming test in the E.H. Little library, or just spending a relaxing afternoon grabbing a bite to eat at the Alvarez College Union, the acoustics of these spaces offer a glimpse into the purpose of these spaces and the academic and social balance at Davidson College.

Works Cited

Schafer, R. Murray. “The Soundscape.” In The Sound Studies Reader. Edited by Jonathan Sterne. London: Routledge, 2012.

Chion, Michel. “The Three Listening Modes.” In The Sound Studies Reader. Edited by Jonathan Sterne. London: Routledge, 2012.

For my investigation I recorded and subsequently reviewed a Davidson soccer practice. I conducted this listening experiment in order to document ­and analyze the Davidson soccer team’s practice soundscape, a term defined by R. Murray Schafer as “any acoustic field of study” (Schafer 99). A limitation of the project design is the relatively low-quality recording device, my iPhone. In order to capture the acoustic environment of the space, I stood in close proximity to the playing field during a routine practice session and recorded the events. I conducted a subsequent analysis of the soundscape by examining the sonic content from physical, cultural, and historical frameworks in order to demonstrate how sounds reveal the identity of the Davidson soccer team.

The Davidson soccer practice field is quiet. Aside from a few birds chirping and the rustle of the grass in the leaves, silence occupies the majority of the field’s acoustic landscape. However, the fragile tranquility proves to be ephemeral. Suddenly a booming thump pierces the soundscape. A soccer ball rolls intently through the field’s low-cut grass. It is Wednesday afternoon, and Sawyer, the Davidson soccer team’s goalie, has begun his customary pre-practice routine. For the greater part of the following three hours, the field will erupt with relative auditory chaos in comparison to the usual absence of sonic activity. Although our team occupies the field for only about ten hours per week, we produce the vast majority of the noise that occupies the space. Our sonic presence is equivalent to or perhaps even greater than our physical weight, as ecstatic exclamations of “GOOOOOAAAALLLLL!!!” echo far beyond the range of our footsteps. Just as voices are mechanisms of self-expression, so too is the soundscape created by a team indicative of its character. Careful observation of the soccer practice soundscape followed by an analysis of the unique sounds we create will reveal the identity of the team, as well as provide insight into the nature of soccer as a sport.

Normally I would participate in the practice as a full member of the team, but I am currently sidelined with an ankle injury. Although being injured is unfavorable, it provides me an opportunity to observe the practice environment from a new perspective. In order to evaluate a soundscape accurately it is necessary to engage in close listening without distractions. While listening from the perspective of an objective observer who did not have to focus on visual stimuli and decision making, I was able to detect sounds that would have been imperceptible to me as a player. These subtle vocal expressions blend together into the background when one is focused on watching on the game, but they can be easily identified by the alert ear. Incidentally these inconspicuous sounds reveal the depth of the team’s acoustic ecology. Through this method of evaluation, ironically, a listener in the absence of visual feedback is able to gather information that would be otherwise inaccessible to a spectator.

The practice that I documented was representative of a typical session, in which the team goes through a progression of drills that culminate in a final scrimmage. I separated my recordings into two distinct segments of practice in order to capture the full extent of the soundscape: technical drills and a scrimmage. Although soccer is a primarily visual pursuit, players are taught from a young age that clear and effective communication is paramount for success. In fact, completesoccerguide.com asserts that abundant communication “can be the difference between victory and defeat”. Echoing this mantra in the audio clip below, Coach Spencer can be heard exclaiming “give him a shout!”. Given the importance of sound as it relates to soccer, the acoustic production of a team engaged in a competitive setting demonstrates its character.

Audio 1 is a sample from a technical drill, which provides a condensed yet comprehensive listen into the acoustic ecology of the soccer practice field. I will use it to analyze the technical and structural components of the soundscape.

Before one can attempt to interpret the sonic texture of a group of people, it is critical to identify and categorize the types of sounds that it produces. Different types of sounds perform unique functions in an acoustic ecosystem, and categorizing auditory feedback accordingly allows for a clear interpretation of each sound as it relates to others. Acclaimed Canadian composer and environmental sound studies theorist R. Murray Schafer describes three primary forms of sound in a given soundscape: keynotes, signals, and soundmarks.  Schafer asserts that keynote sounds are the underlying tones of acoustic ecology, which are sometimes overlooked by listeners who have grown accustomed to their perpetual noise. Keynotes are sonic “anchors” which are often “created by its geography and climate” (101), and examples include sounds produced by water, wind, and animals. In the soccer practice soundscape keynotes consist of the steady gusts of wind caused by the movement of players and soccer balls, as well as the constant rumbling sounds of players’ cleats stomping into the earth. Schafer maintains that keynotes “outline the character of the men living among them” (101), just as the sounds that we produce alter the acoustic ecology of our surroundings.

R. Murray Schafer denotes the next category of sounds “signals”. Signals are comprised of “foreground sounds” that stand out from continuity of the “noise” which we have learned to ignore (101). The soccer practice soundscape is rife with signals as players repeatedly shout commands at their teammates. Most of the verbal communication during the drill is comprised of commands, and directional language is heavy (“left, right, get up, drop back, come around”), which illustrates the importance of constant movement and precise positioning in the game of soccer. Whereas keynotes are produced mainly from the forces of nature, signals in this soundscape are almost exclusively man-made with the exception of an occasional birdcall. Finally, a soundmark is defined as “a community sound which is unique or possesses qualities which make it specially regarded by people in that community (Schafer 101)”. The most concrete example of a soundmark occurs at the finale of each practice, when the team gathers in a huddle and simultaneously yells “one, two, three, Cats!”. The significance of this tradition is to unite the team after a few hours of fierce competition and strenuous activity. This triumphant soundmark exemplifies the team’s ideals of brotherhood and unity, and upon hearing this sound, a passive listener becomes aware of the fellowship that we embody through it.

The soccer practice soundscape blurs the line between Schafer’s three distinctions, as it contains a variety of signals that could be interpreted as potential soundmarks. When a particular phrase possesses significance that transcends a singular instance, such as Coach Spencer’s conscious repetition of the directive “Stay active!” during the technical drill, the signal becomes a soundmark. This phrase transforms from a signal to a soundmark not only because it is unique to the Davidson soccer practice soundscape, but also because it carries exclusive meaning to the players who hear it that outsiders would not perceive. Furthermore, due to the ubiquity of verbal interjections during intense drills, these signals nearly blend into a form of background noise, forming a secondary keynote rather than individual sounds. The high frequency of the players’ vocalizations reflects the chaotic and uninterrupted nature of the sport.

Audio 2 features an audio clip from the final phase of practice: a scrimmage. This particular clip permeates the surface layer of the soundscape, providing insight into the nature of the sport as a whole. I will use it to examine the soccer soundscape from historical, cultural, and comparative frameworks.

As the soundscape of the soccer team reflects its culture, values, and character traits, we can use sound as evidence to determine how the Davidson Soccer team has evolved over time. An individual’s voice is arguably the purest form of self expression. As such, the voices heard at the soccer practice field throughout its history provide an interesting window into the larger socio-cultural context of Davidson College as a whole, as this field has been utilized by Davidson students for generations. However, a barrier exists in that there are no preserved recordings of the historical soundscape. In order to determine how the acoustic ecology of the field, and therefore the identity of the soccer team itself, has changed over time, “we must turn our attention to earwitness accounts from literature” (Schafer 97). As college athletics have become far more competitive in recent decades, the contemporary soundscape of the soccer field has become increasingly intense.

Historical testimony provides evidence that players take the game much more seriously than in the past. Since its formation in 1942, the Davidson soccer team has evolved tremendously from a casual intramural activity into a highly competitive NCAA tournament challenger. In the inaugural days of the team during the 1950s, John Kuykendall, ’59 explained that “there were a couple missionary children who really knew soccer and were from Brazil and places like that. And the rest of us were just kind of goof-offs” (Niegowski). If any current player on the team ever “goofed off” during training, I have no doubt that they would be immediately reprimanded by the coaching staff. The intense, serious tone of practice can be heard through both recordings, as players are fully focused on performing at the highest possible level. Additionally, the diversity of voices on the team has no doubt increased heavily over time. The recent surge of aggressive, globalized recruiting in the college soccer community has brought Davidson players from around the world, and it is common to face opponents with majority international rosters. Now that the Davidson community champions diversity, and with the generous scholarships provided by the Davidson Trust, the voices of players with historically underrepresented ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds occupy the soundscape. The sonic character of the team has evidently experienced a drastic shift in tone since the days of Mr. Kuykendall.

The nuances of the soccer’s soundscape alone are satisfactory to differentiate it from other sports. The free-flowing nature of the game is rare among popular sports such as football, baseball, and basketball, which experience stoppages at regular intervals. The frequency of communication in soccer illustrates the importance of having a cohesive team that understands each other’s intentions. As players retain all of the decision-making power aside from basic strategy, individual expression through voice is a major component to soccer. The fast-paced nature of the sport is demonstrated by shortened, commanding dialogue that is often rapidly repeated for emphasis.

The soccer practice soundscape exemplifies the cohesive structure of the sport. Inherent within our acoustic ecology is the presence of the unity. We rarely separate into disconnected groups, and each team member is responsible for performing offense, defense, and communication rather than having different jobs. Everyone on the field covers for one another and can play in multiple positions throughout the match. Accordingly, the sonic production of the team reflects a singular force that is comprised of individual voices sharing objectives among each other. Players address each other by name in order to assign responsibility, which is indicative of a team culture that recognizes the necessity of each member to make significant contributions.

Furthermore, it can be determined from listening to the practice soundscape that soccer is largely a game of cause and effect. Players constantly call out to one another to perform commands in order to achieve a desired outcome. If the action is successful, it can be observed that one will reward their teammate with praise. An adept listener will be able to determine a team’s relative success simply by listening to these rapid and frequent interactions between teammates.

Examining the components of the vibrant Davidson soccer field soundscape reveals the character of the team that inhabits it. It also provides insight into the nature of the activity that occurs within. The intensity, passion, and commitment of the soccer team is evident through simply listening to a practice session. Virtually every coach I’ve ever played for has echoed the maxim “You practice like you play” in order to motivate players to work harder during training sessions. In other words, teams that put forth maximum effort during practice are more likely to see their hard word translate into success on the game field. Therefore, the team’s soundscape is indicative of its future performance. After discovering how profoundly a practice soundscape reflects a soccer team’s identity, I have a word of advice for prospects, coaches, and players: Pay attention the sonic texture of your team, for it may determine whether or not you win the conference title. Oh, and consider turning up the volume during that next film session.

Works Cited

“How to Communicate Effectively In Soccer.” Completesoccerguide.com, 2015, www.completesoccerguide.com/communicate-effectively-soccer/.

Niegowski, Desmond. “1950s Student Life.” Davidson Encyclopedia, 2014, libraries.davidson.edu/archives/encyclopedia/1950s-student-life.

Schafer, R. Murray. “The Soundscape.” The Sound Studies Reader, by Jonathan Sterne, Routledge, 2012, pp. 95–103.

Libraries have a stereotype for being a quiet place with mean librarians lurking around every corner waiting to scold rowdy visitors or filled with shushes from students that are trying to concentrate. Many find the silence that libraries are expected to have uncomfortable or even intimidating. The environment of the library, whether it’s related to stressful work or silence either attracts or repels its visitors. Not many think about silence in their daily lives, so raising awareness of not only how it impacts different settings, like a library, but people’s emotions along with what factors cause them is important in order to better understand different environments and deeply rooted feelings towards the lack of noise. 

 

The stereotype of the taunting quietness of a library holds true pertaining to The Davidson College library’s basement. Different from the first and second floors of the library on campus, the basement has little to no distractions, allowing students to work unbothered by noise. When discussing what defines a soundscape, Schafer states that “A soundscape consists of events heard not objects seen” (Schafer 99). This relates to the basement of the library when every diligent student has their head in a book but can still hear what is going on around them, even if it is very quiet. In the recording of the underground study space, you can hear the croaking of a chair, people typing on their computers, and pages flipping from a book, all sounds that are apparent to anyone close by. This makes the basement of the library and other almost completely silent soundscapes one of a kind because in any other place, one would probably not be able to hear those obscure sounds that are not usually thought about or even noticed. The uniqueness silence brings to an environment either forms a selling point or an anxiety factor for the students of Davidson College as well as the general public. 

The lack of comfort some associate with the basement of the library is more common than one would imagine on the campus of Davidson College. I wanted to discover exactly how certain people viewed this study area, so I interviewed some students around campus. When asked the simple question of do you like studying in the library basement, Gabby responded “The basement of the library gives me bad vibes. I feel awkward when I try to study down there and am so uneasy I don’t end up even getting any work done.” I also asked the same question to Lucas; he answered “I straight up don’t like the basement of the library. I get creeped out by how quiet it is and just feel very stressed when I am there. I never do work down there because its just weird.” Others said pretty similar things, all thinking that the ensured silence of the basement was unpleasant rather than a helpful studying tool. Scholars have agreed with Gabby and Lucas writing about why many do not enjoy being in silence and why. One of the major reasons why people do not like being somewhere that is completely silent is because they are not used to it. There is constantly so much background noice in people’s lives; for example, television or simply just other people talking. The world that we live in is very noisy almost all of the time, so just the lack of experience can influence people to assume they dislike silence. When the background noice of people lives finally does go silent, they feel forced to focus on their own thoughts and ponder them, when many would rather just stay distracted, being able to avoid the triggering of emotional or unpleasant thoughts. Dr. Forshee states that “In terms of silence, it’s not the quiet that makes you feel on-edge; it’s the fact that there’s nothing to distract you from your own thoughts — thoughts you might not want to recognize just yet” (Guerra). Having to face these thoughts and realizations that become present when there is no other noise used as distraction is a terrifying experience for most. Feeling uncomfortable or even scared in these quiet environments is a very common concept across the world’s population, and may explain why it is a popular feeling on Davidson’s campus.

However, not everyone is opposed to silence in their lives, many people even use it to their advantage. Daniel A. Gross describes “Silence [as] a resource” (Gross). Silence is a break from a hustle and bustle of the fast pace of life and allows one to be completed dialed in to something instead of being distracted. Silence could also assist in focusing, sleeping, relaxing, or even reflecting on your own thoughts when there is nothing else to distract you. Gross also discusses how much people spend to obtain this private product of silence if it not available to them; for example, noise cancelling headphones, sound proof walls, and even silent meditation sessions. This supports his claim of silence being a true benefit if people are willing to spend large amounts of money just to obtain it. The fact that silence can be considered a product helps us better understand it to be a resource that not all people have access to. Pertaining to Davidson, students who retreat to the basement of the library when in a crunch appreciate a space with no noise to distract them. The silence fosters an atmosphere of pressure, but many students believe they do their best work under this degree of intensity. This seriousness intertwined with the lack of noise surrounds the basement of the library. This shows the aura surrounding it as a place of tension filled by students who have copious amounts of work to complete. They use this silence as an advantage in order to finish their assignments, making this one of the only places on campus with this particular atmosphere, as well as the reputation surrounding it. These students need an area that they trust will remain quiet no matter what time of the day. Both writers and students share the opinion that silence is very beneficial, even to the extent that some will do a lot just to obtain it. 

If the campus of Davidson became fully aware of the library’s soundscape and the feelings that a lot of students have related to the silence of the basement, these aspects could play a major role in the soon reshaping of the library. Many people do not really ponder the thought of  silence and the roles it plays in different settings, they usually just decide if they enjoy it or not and continue on with their lives. This focus on silence and noise dynamic pertaining to all floors of the library must be considered in order to reorganize the library in the most efficient and effective way possible. Understanding how the realities of being a student could be reflected architecturally in the library setting is very important for catering the needs of each student. Having different noice level areas, especially a silent one, gives students different options for a setting in which they would be most effective in.

Works Cited

Delp, Gabby. Personal Interview. 1 April 2019. 

Gross, Daniel A. “This Is Your Brain on Silence – Nautilus.” Pocket, 24 Aug. 2014, getpocket.com/explore/item/this-is-your-brain-on-silence.

Guerra, Julia. “This Is Why Silence Makes You Feel So Uncomfortable, According To An Expert.” Elite Daily, Elite Daily, 17 Dec. 2018, www.elitedaily.com/p/why-silence-is-so-uncomfortable-heres-how-to-get-more-comfortable-with-quiet-moments-8762651. 

Hauth, Lucas. Personal Interview. 1 April 2019.

Kay, Malia. Personal Interview. 1 April 2019.

Schafer, R. Murray. “The Soundscape .” The Sound Studies Reader, edited by Jonathan Sterne, Routledge, 2012, pp. 95–103.