Grief, on both an individual and a collective level presents itself through all the senses, each holding as much importance as the other, however sound circulates and projects feelings of grief with a power that no other sense is quite capable of. Whether that be through the sound we physically exert as grieving humans, such as crying or screaming, or through the sounds we hear (or don’t) in relation to death, for example, the rhythmic patterns of breath in a crowd.
Different cultures have distinct sonic rituals following the death of someone, some more of a controllable, conscious choice than others, however each reflective of the collective emotional state. One reaction that I myself and a vast number of people are familiar with is silence, using the complete absence of sound as a collective form to synchronise the atmosphere and hold space for the emotional weight of death.
Silence is a kind of universal language in regards to death, many cultures and communities around the world use silence as a form of mourning, and this is because it allows an emotional presence to breath. When a feeling becomes so powerful the expression of it through words becomes overwhelming, however there is an unspoken understanding through the silent emotional communication between beings, in which we can use to communicate. Silence is an ancient form of mourning that has been used to connect humans through the constant and inevitable process of death.
However in some cases silence can also be used as a tool for suppression, teaching the idea it is better to bury your natural emotions rather than allowing them to surface in a way that is stereotypically ‘out of control’ and ‘socially unacceptable’. This can happen on both an individual and collective scale, for example, in China (an Authoritarian state), after the Tiananmen Square massacre public mourning was prohibited and silence became a method of policing emotional expression rather than enabling it, ensuring the power and control remained in the dominating hand of the government.
Silence as a form of suppression has also been taught individually for centuries to boys and men around the world, pushed towards withholding their emotions rather than letting them out and showing them. Because of this social norm, an enforced quietness has been created in many mourning settings, such as funerals. This however, is more to do with presenting their strength rather than it’s relation to collective control. This is also something that is changing, males are now being more encouraged to release their emotions, to break the barrier that once stopped their vulnerability from being exposed.
In regards to sonic grieving processes, silence is not the only method used to mourn, there are many forms of audible expression that join people as a collective. For example, the voice is used as an instrument to communicate, both in the more traditional sense of talking as well as using it as a musical form of expression.
Public mourning can centre around talking, speeches and services used to remember the dead, uniting people as one community, they’re able to relate and basque together in the shared memories of the deceased. This contributes massively to creating a collective space in which people can grieve, using affective contagion to ignite the space.
Emotion expresses itself through the voice using crying, wailing and screaming, traditional exclamations of pain, upset, anger and hurt, as a processing mechanism, a way in which you’re able to put the energy you had for that person back into the world. These forms of expression are universal within their meaning, and are associated with death globally, for many cultures these sounds are a unifying aspect of their collective mourning. There are many ritualistic traditions that take the expressive sounds of wailing and crying and use them in a more musical way to vocalise their pain and sorrow on behalf of the community.
For example, keening is a traditional Irish and Scottish Gaelic form of vocal lament for the dead, performed primarily by women, keening involved a soft crying noise accompanied by low pitched singing or speaking that would then grow into a more intense, louder wailing sound. The main keener would begin the ritual of releasing the deep grief of the mourners into the open air, people would then join in with the moaning, chanting and wailing, allowing them to grieve using their entire bodies without feeling shame.
The ancient tradition died out in Ireland in the 1950s due to the catholic church. The church viewed keening as an inappropriate pagan ritual that undermined the authority of the clergy, families began to fear that engaging in keening would make them appear backward and judged by their community. It’s sad that this suppressive behaviour of the church couldn’t recognise the power keening had in uniting a grieving collective.
Another example of the voice being used as a tool to help express ones grief is ululation, a long, wavering, high-pitched vocal cry used within Middle Eastern and North African cultures. Known as zalghouta, zaghārīt, lelleh, or youyou depending on which region you’re in, ululation is primarily performed by women and is associated with events of both happiness and sadness.
Although ululation around the world sounds different, with each country having their own variation of the noise, it is recognised throughout cultures to have similar meanings and uses, making this a greatly unifying tool for communicating emotion. When used in mourning, the tone of ululation shifts, often becoming slower, lower, or more rhythmically broken, signalling distress, rather than joy. It becomes a public statement that a community is suffering together, allowing the women who perform it to express themselves without any restraint.
Ululation is a powerful example of sonic emotional contagion, as the rather piercing sound acts like a wave that is able to trigger an emotional resonance in the community. It creates an atmosphere that people are able to tune into, allowing a collective identity to form through the sound.
These are just a few examples in which communities use the voice to unite through collective mourning, however, there are many more cultures that use the power of vocalisation in unique ways to emotionally connect.
Sound theorist Brandon LaBelle’s work is incredibly relevant when understanding that collective mourning relies on these sonic atmospheres that exist within communities. In his book ‘Acoustic
Territories’ he talks about shared sonic spaces that are carved out into our physical world, influencing how we behave, feel, and understand one another. LaBelle argues that sound isn’t a neutral background noise, but rather, a medium for social transformation and cultural expression, sound reveals power and identity through a collective feeling.
These sonic spaces become incredibly charged during periods of mourning, emotions translate sonically though resonance and vibrations in which sit in the atmosphere being absorbed by others around. This creates a shared emotional field that people are able to tune in and out of.
Looking at the sounds of grief from a contemporary view, media reproduction is another tool used to unite mourners. Moments captured on video which are then released onto the internet for an eternity have a distinct power in forming a virtual space that people are able to grieve in. The ability to have the sonic moment of an event captured forever means that the audible memory is able to be preserved and referred back to whenever the viewer chooses to do so. Providing this constant access into experiencing the feelings of a collective identity, even when one is physically alone.
The impact this permanence has can be both positive and negative, in some cases like Charlie Kirk’s death, the video of the shooting is online indefinitely, re-enforcing the violent sonic imprint of the gunshot. Instead of comfort or unity, the shared listening experience becomes one of intense shock, fear, and traumatic repetition. What emerges is still a collective emotional response, but one rooted in horror rather than healing. This is just one instance showing how the internet allows for a brutal moment to be shared to a collective of people who were far removed from the original event.
While mediated sound can form connection and communal support through remembrance, it can also amplify distress, drawing listeners into a collective grief they didn’t necessarily chose to inhabit. In this way, the sonic immortality of digital recordings show how the media can both strengthen and unsettle the emotional bonds between people, shaping contemporary mourning in powerful new ways.
Ultimately, grief takes on a plethora of sonic expressions, an undefinable amount, personal to each individual, whether this be through the voice, instruments, recordings or even silence, it is able to create a resonant atmosphere which provides a collective bond in which people can find comfort in.