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CONTEMPORARY ISSUES IN SOUND ARTS

Artist Study: Holly Herndon & Mat Dryhurst.

Berlin-based artist duo, Holly Herndon & Mat Dryhurst are at the forefront of the intersection between music, artificial intelligence, and decentralised technology. Herndon holds a doctorate from Stanford University’s Center for Computer Research in Music and Acoustics (CCRMA), she is renowned for her vocal-driven electronic music. Dryhurst is a theorist and artist whose work focuses on the social and economic structures that support creative labor.

Together, they have pioneered the concept of ‘Data Dignity’, rather than viewing AI as a tool for automation or the extraction of subcultural data, they treat it as a collaborative medium. 

Holly+

https://youtu.be/qPW_rdUgV_8?si=S_myghHRqm0bRPlz

In 2021 Herdon and Dryhurst released Holly+, a digital copy of Holly Herdons voice. Using machine learning, the model allows users to upload a polyphonic audio file and have it sung back in Herndon’s own vocal timbre. They encouraged anyone to create new work with her AI voice, as part of an expansive art and research project experimenting with the economy around her digital likeness.

After the initial release of the voice, there have since been more instruments made, allowing for people to upload scores for her voice to sing, also allowing for people to perform in her voice in real time. (premiered at Sonar 2021) These instruments have been created in a joint collaboration between Herndon Dryhurst Studio, Never Before Heard Sounds (NYC), and Voctro Labs (Barcelona).

Holly+ functioned as both an instrument and a radical experiment in decentralised intellectual property. Governed by a DAO (Decentralised Autonomous Organisation), ensuring that the use of her digital identity is ethically managed, with a portion of the profits from any approved works returning to the original creator and the community.

Holly+ challenges common pessimistic perspectives around ‘deepfakes’ (synthetic media; images, audio, or video, generated by artificial intelligence to deceptively swap faces, manipulate voices, or create realistic, fabricated scenarios of real people). Being quite an early piece of work centred around AI, in regards to its evolution, Holly+ holds a strong president for how artists can reclaim agency within an automated landscape. Something, which continues to become a more relevant and striking threat to artists. It stands as a foundation for the ethical integration of machine learning, shifting the narrative from one of displacement to one of augmented expression.

Holly+ is part of an evolving lineage of AI vocal projects created by Herndon and Dryhurst, creating a kind of digital ecosystem of artwork and data, focusing on the sovereignty of the individual and the collective.

‘The Call’

https://youtu.be/DNlr7olF6rE?si=ZvZmMAAb4fPsENtH

“We are trying to position AI as a monumental collective accomplishment and coordination technology, part of a lineage that goes back to group singing rituals that predate language, and religious protocols that emphasise participation in something greater than the sum of its parts. We feel this is a more interesting framework for approaching the subject and can also be instructive for policy moving forward. AI is just us, in aggregate- it is beautiful and requires rethinking how we arrange life.”

The Call (2024) is a large-scale project composed from the voices of fifteen diverse choirs from around the UK, ranging from traditional church groups to experimental vocal ensembles. The recordings were then used to train a custom AI model that simulates a collective vocal identity. When an individual interacts with The Call, they are performing through a digital representation of a community.

The Call centres on developing new protocols and materials for the creation and adaptations of musical of AI models. To train the AI model, Herndon and Dryhurst composed a songbook of hymns, singing exercises and a recording protocol. The singers are now part of a data trust experiment that allows for the distribution of power between the contributors to the training data and those who use the models.

First exhibited in The Serpentine Gallery (2024-25), The Call was an immersive and interactive spatial audio installation, the physical architecture designed to evoke the sacred and communal history of human sound. The work is centred around the large, wooden structure often referred to as the ‘Hearth’ (seen in the above picture). The Hearth simultaneously looks a high tech piece of modern equipment as well as an ancient, traditional kind of ritualistic altar. Inside the structure are over 120 GPU fans that are tune to be able to perform music, as you walk around it, the AI-generated voices of the fifteen choirs move with and around you.

Along with the Hearth there were several other structures, each coinciding with the spiritual, renaissance-like appearance of the work. Each structure performed in a different way and each represented a particular aspect of the project.

For example in once room was a huge chandelier looking object, a dense, high-tech rig that represents the recording protocol used to capture the fifteen choirs. (Each choir was recorded with a microphone in the centre of a spherical surrounding of singers.) This object is called the Wheel and when you step in the room you hear every one of the 15 choir groups singing as if they’re in the room with you.

The Call offers us a rejuvenated perspective on the collective nature of human creation through the technological tools of the 21st century.

When I discovered Herdon and Dryhursts work, I instantly felt inspired, their use of integration with AI felt refreshing and captivating. Ethically, they are encouraging a demand for change within the way artists and their work are treated in relation to AI. It is clear they understood from early on the ownership issues that would arise with the use of AI and with that knowledge they have been able to create morally conscious works of art.

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CONTEMPORARY ISSUES IN SOUND ARTS

Subcultural Movements & Their Significance.

In order to understand the pattern that radical concepts move through, it is crucial to realise and appreciate the significance that subcultures have in that process.

Subculture is defined as ‘the behaviours, beliefs, or practices of a particular group of people within a society that differ from those of the majority or dominant culture.’ (Oxford Dictionary). Based on shared interests, lifestyles, principles, or characteristics, subcultures provide a sense of belonging to their members, surrounding them with like-minded people.

Throughout the evolution of our society, subcultures have always existed. Focusing specifically on art and media, the realm of a subculture will always inhabit others who are inspired, influenced and interested in the work circulating, therefore forming a community. These communities are the foundations of a subculture, allowing messages and concepts to flow under the mainstream current of beliefs. They allow for freedom of expression, in a distinctly important way.

The value of a subculture lies within the people, not the profit.

As previously mentioned, Dick Hebdige’s book: ‘Subculture; The Meaning of Style’ has been a rich source used for understanding the relationship between subcultures and mainstream cultures. Not only has it widened my knowledge on the significance of subcultures but it has expanded my perception on art, media and styles as a commodity. Hebdige analyses the movements of counterculture throughout contemporary history, recognising the pattern of commodifying a once ‘extremist, radical’ concept.

Though generally more critical of the “loss of soul” that occurs when a subculture is tamed through entering the corporate world, Hebdige does acknowledge that the act of recuperation allows radical ideas to reach a wider audience, although no longer deeming it as a radical idea. It shifts the “cultural needle” even if the original subculture and their intent is sacrificed in the process. This shift is often crucial for the evolution of our understanding on people and lifestyle. To a certain extent, this whole process seems inevitable, therefore it feels important to at least recognise a positive effect that recuperation can have. (Although I am not in support of it).

Subcultures rely on a purposeful search, they aren’t fed to you, you have to actively seek to find your specific community within the undercurrent.

There are prominent examples of a subculture piercing through into mainstream, for both positive and negative reasons, the exposure of a different way of thought is often the catalyst for societal change.

‘Teddy boy’

Teddy boys and girls, or simply ‘Teds’, marked the arrival of the most distinctive post-war youth style of 1950s Britain. Emerging through working class teenagers who defied austerity with fashion and music. They wore long drape jackets and drainpipe trousers, often interpreted as a reversion to Edwardian fashion, hence the name Ted – The term ‘Teddy boy’ was originally coined by the popular press in 1953, and derived from the word ‘Ted’ being commonly used as a shortened alternative for the name ‘Edward’.

Inspired by a more American life, Chicago Gangster and zootsuit styles were a huge influence on the fashion and conducts of a Teddy boy. In Britain, these specific styles became associated with the ‘spivs’, the cockney boys who dealt in the black market of the 1940s, often deviant and violent- much like the Teds (through the eyes of the media).

More than just a style, Teds had symbolic significance. They represented a radical break from the post-war frugality and class rigidities, rejecting the societal expectations that Britain conformed to. By reinstating the Edwardian styles, which were originally marketed towards young upper class men through high end Savile Row tailors, these working class youth asserted a new sense of pride and social visibility.

Teddy boys also became a symbolic focus for the social anxieties that the changes of post-war Britain provoked. Through the eyes of many, they were seen as both the perpetrators of a new wave of violent crime, and, as a benchmark of the nation’s wider, traditional cultural dissipating.

Punk

British punk emerged in 1976, driven by bands like the Sex Pistols and The Clash, Punk spread throughout the suburbs, provinces and cities of the UK. Characterised by clothes designed by Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood, with their Kings Road shop ‘SEX’, they forged an aesthetic of rips, fractures and tensions, capturing the mood of the time. Punk informed everything from music through to design, fashion, artwork, writing and performance. It served as the voice of expression for the youth generation that felt increasingly alienated by the stagnant social and economic life of the late 1970s.

“To act took precedence over receiving/consuming.”

Punk was seen to reload and rejuvenate youth culture as a place of freedom, provocative fun, protest and imagination. 

However, almost immediately, punk proved a contested cultural space, a site of resistance that was simultaneously under siege by the forces of the media. After Sex Pistols’ ‘foul-mouthed’ appearance on teatime television in December 1976, moral panic ensured punk moved overground into the wider public consciousness. 

As time went on Punk did survive, often trying to leave the presence of the ‘establishment’, however struggling to. Through the exposure, Punk lost its once revolutionary, extremist value through commodification. The artefacts of punk, the safety pins, the distorted chords, the DIY aspects were quickly identified by the “infrastructure of commercial institutions” as valuable trends.

Rave Culture

British rave culture emerged in the late 1980s, exploding with the in 1988-1989, “Second Summer of Love”, with the rise of Acid House sparking the phenomenon. Initially occurring in the warehouse parties of London, rave culture grew fast and soon spread to locations all over the country, occurring in large abandoned industrial areas or in open countryside landscapes. London warehouse parties, along with pirate radio and the introduction of ecstasy established the scene of rave culture.

The synergy of house music and ecstasy catalysed a dance movement that broke the pretentiousness of the existing UK club scene. The relationship between the music and the effects of MDMA made for a loving intensity of liberty within the dance and party world. It was a DIY movement that thrived on building, not buying (much like most subcultures).

 The UK scene was initially dependent on tracks from Chicago, Detroit and New York, but soon began to develop its own rich forms of house and techno. Rave culture brought about a significant, and often controversial, shift in UK youth culture, creating a new youth movement that left a lasting impression on British society. It allowed for a space of communication that was open and fuelled by passion, inspiration, connection and dance. An impression that is still very relevant today, having changed our approach to dance music.

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CONTEMPORARY ISSUES IN SOUND ARTS

Recuperation.

I came across the term recuperation in Dick Hebdige’s book: ‘Subculture; The Meaning of Style’, most prominently in chapter 6, ‘The Unnatural Break’. In media, sociology, and critical theory, recuperation refers to the process of radical, subversive, or counter – cultural ideas & styles being co-opted, absorbed, and commodified by mainstream media and capitalist culture.

Hebdige describes the process of recuperation having two characteristic forms :

  1. Commodity form = The conversion of subcultural signs (dress, music, etc) into mass produced objects.
  2. Ideological form = The labelling and re-definition of deviant behaviour by dominant groups – the police, the media, the judiciary.

The capitalist system integrates potentially subversive elements into its own structure, therefore neutralising the revolutionary potential through commodification and exposure through their outlets. It’s a level of control that establishments have over their audience, whether they’re conscious of it or not.

It is through recuperation that the context and meaning of a work is stripped away, severing the emotional affiliation of the environment it once inhabited. Now perceived for its profit, the reasoning behind the work becomes redundant, leaving a kind of soulless atmosphere to the now ‘product’. An occurrence that is repeated throughout history, the industrial foundations of the art world thrive on the process of recuperation, requiring a level of skill and creativity that runs primarily through subcultures.

“The diffusion of youth styles from the subcultures to the fashion market is not simply a ‘cultural process’, but a real network or infrastructure of new kinds of commercial and economic institutions.” John Clarke (1976b).

Social Hieroglyphs.

Coined by Karl Marx, social hieroglyphs refer to the concept where, commodities hide the social interactions of a production beneath a surface of exchange value. As a consumer society we view an object or a creation, predominately seeing its profitable value and use, while the story behind it, the sweat, the struggle, becomes a hidden language we can no longer read.

The term comes from Egyptian hieroglyphs, where pictorial documentation required decoding to reveal a hidden language of human thoughts, history, and interactions. They represent the connections between people rather than just between things.

Marx’s emphasis on the term was about acknowledging and decoding what is put in front of us in contemporary society, understanding the human effort put into the products we consume. Underneath the surface lies a physical map of the human labor. This understanding becomes crucial in empathising with other people, creating meaningful connections and changing our perspective on commercialisation.

Art often evolves from a struggle, whether that be on a mass scale or an incredibly personal level, it is used as an expression, a way of processing intense emotion in a constructive, impactful way. However, recuperation transforms a radical concept into a social hieroglyph, thereby masking the very labor and struggle it once emerged from.

In a usual interaction between a person and a piece of artwork (be that music, painting, writing , etc) a huge part of its value lies between the relationship you form emotionally with the work, based off your own personal experiences and the original intent of the artist. You therefore become aware of the exertion put into the piece, and are able to sympathise with the artist and the community that forms around the work.

However, this kind of relationship is often lost through art entering the commercial world, it becomes a commodity in which both the art and the artist discard the original intentions in exchange for profitable value.

This is where recuperation has the biggest impact socially, it has the ability to break down communities and control certain people’s perceptions on a mass scale. Through the absorption of once radical concepts mainstream industries widen an audience (which can be positive), however when context gets lost to such a large extent, and money is at the forefront of the work, these ‘hieroglyphs’ make it so the consumer sees only a finished, polished product. Deeper thought is not required.

However, regardless of this mainstream reconstruction, subcultures are constantly moving and growing, creating an undercurrent of change that is equally impactful, just to a different collection of people.

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COLLABORATING

Norse Huldra.

This collaboration is the first in a series of mixed media animations that my sister and I are creating together. Centred around our family ancestry and heritage, we want to research and represent each individual element that makes up our lineage. For this first piece we decided to explore the roots of our Norse heritage.

Scandinavia, specifically Norway, is relevant to our family on both our mother and father’s side and so we felt it most natural to begin this project series with such a prominent aspect of our history, one that previously, neither me nor my sister knew much about.

ERLUND

Erlund, the maiden name of our grandmother on our father’s side, has its historical roots in Scandinavia, particularly Norway, where it is believed to have originated as a patronymic surname. The name derives from Old Norse – a north Germanic language spoken by the inhabitants of Scandinavia and their overseas settlements during the Viking Age and early Middle Ages (roughly 800–1350 AD).

The ER from Erlund comes from the Old Norse word erlendr, which translates to ‘foreigner’ or ‘from a foreign land.’ In the Viking Age, this was a very common name for someone who had traveled across the seas, if a man left Norway to settle in a new place, he was often nicknamed Erlendr.

The LUND derives from the Old Norse word lundr, meaning a grove, or small wood, often associated with sacred, worshipped, or holy places. These were locations where rituals were performed and spirits were said to dwell. The name may have originally been associated with individuals who lived near a grove or forest, or perhaps those who were seen as outsiders in a community.

  • Erl: foreigner or stranger
  • Lund: grove or wood.

Erlund literally translates to “The Grove of the Man from a Far Land.”

Over time, the surname Erlund evolved, with its bearers often taking on roles related to agriculture, forestry, or trade, reflecting the natural resources of the regions they inhabited.

Cumbrian Norse

Our other relation to Nordic roots links to the norse settlers of North West England, specially Cumbria.

The specific group of Norsemen associated with Cumbria are known as the ‘Hiberno-Norse’. Unlike the Danes who settled in Eastern England, the Cumbrian settlers were Norwegian, and weren’t usually direct raiders from Scandinavia. Instead, they were Norwegians who had lived in Ireland, the Isle of Man, and the Hebrides for generations before moving into Cumbria around 900–950 AD.

DNA studies in towns across the Lake District show some of the highest concentrations of Norwegian genetic markers in the UK.

Timney, our mother’s last name is originally an Irish name, the anglicized form of the Gaelic name Ó Tiománaigh, meaning ‘driver’, the cattle driver or the horse driver. The name was heavily associated to Southern County Donegal and the neighbouring parts of County Tyrone and County Fermanagh (in the province of Ulster).

The name comes from the people in Ireland who fought off the very Norse invaders who took over and found a permanent home in Cumbria, the ‘Erlendrs‘.

Although originally deriving from Ireland, the Timney family has been settled in West Cumbria for the last two centuries having immigrated from Ireland in the early 1800s. Having been firmly based in Cumbria since, our Timney family is very aware of the history and heritage of the area, therefore the norse impact.

Aspects of the Cumbrian dialect are actually phrases and words left over from norse invasions, resulting in many words showing closer links to Danish and Norwegian than to standard English. The dialect has distinct vocabulary for landscapes, farming, and daily life, such as beck (stream), fell (mountain), laik (play), and lowp (jump) – all of which are from the Norse influence.

My sister and I know our Timney side to be Cumbrian, proudly, and so we feel this connection to the Norse impact of the area, making it feel most uniting of the two separate sides of our lineage.

For the narrative aspect of this project we wanted to creative a visual work that held a depth of personal meaning to us both, which through the themes of ancestry we have been able to achieve. However we decided thus to focus on one element of our research in order to make the final outcome interpretable, meaningful for both us and the viewer, as well as being visually beautiful and interesting. We realised it would be easy to quickly get lost in the vast depths of our lineage, ending up with a less defined piece. And so for this work we decided to centre it around folklore stories from Nordic culture, specially Norwegian folklore.

HULDRA

A Huldra, or Huldre (plural), is a female forest spirit who appears human at first, known for her immense beauty, long hair, and irresistibly alluring presence, however as you look closer you’ll see hidden, her cow’s tail (or fox’s tail) and hollowed out, tree-like back. All carefully disguised under long clothing.

An incredibly protective creature, the Huldra can be benevolent, offering protection or good luck, but often becomes malevolent if scorned, cursing men or causing them to vanish. Huldra could charm anyone who crossed her path, particularly men, her beauty was magical, capable of clouding the minds of the people who engaged with her. Huldra’s powers were strongest in the forest, she could guide people to safety or lead them astray, whichever she pleased, in some tales, she helped hunters find game or cursed them if they disrespected the woods. However, she wasn’t malicious by default, her doings regarded the morals of the being.

She is both compassionate and merciless.

This duality of behaviours reflects the way ancient Norse cultures viewed the natural world, life and death, the ever giving and the complete soul destroying aspects of our life. A rather beautiful interpretation of existence in a being, encouraging us to look beyond initial appearances, to consider and comprehend the consequences of our actions, and to approach the world around us with a certain care.

In contemporary times, forests cover vast areas of the Nordic countries; roughly 75% of Finland, 70% of Sweden, more than 30 % of Norway, and 15 % of Denmark. Therefore it makes sense that the narratives of Nordic folklore often revolve around the forest and the spirits they contain. Confrontations with supernatural forest spirits are old and belong to a popular tradition of pre-Christian origin in Scandinavia, going back at least to the Viking Age.

In Scandinavian tradition, the Huldra is a Skogsrå, a forest spirit, she resides in the ‘lunds’, the patches of ancient trees where the light filters through the leaves in strange ways. The same ‘lund’ from the name Erlund.

As mentioned, these groves were often considered sacred or taboo, and were the places where the land between our world and the Huldrefolk (the hidden people) wore thinnest.

In Norway, the word Huldra, Hulder & Huldrefolk derived from the Old Norse ‘huldr’ meaning hidden, used for all kinds of supernatural beings, sighted and talked about by the locals. Folklore suggests that there is an entire Hulder race, who are one of several ‘rå’ (keepers/ wardens).

A Huldra’s appearance and environment were rich with symbolic meaning. Reflecting her deep connection to nature and the idea that beauty conceals hidden aspects.

  • Cow’s Tail: The most iconic, distinguishable feature of a Huldra, separating her from human, the tail connects her to the animal kingdom, showing that she’s a creature of the wild, not bound by human rules or culture.
  • Hollow Back: Huldra’s hollow back is a powerful symbol of deception and the unknown, suggesting that initial perceptions of appearing perfect may hide a dark or empty truth.
  • Forests and Trees: Associated with deep, dark woodland, birch and pine trees are often linked to her presence. She is hidden away from the rest of society, safe in the unfamiliar territory of the forest.
  • Sounds of Nature: The voice of a Huldra is said to be heard through songs or distant laughter, symbolising both enchantment and warning, an invitation to follow, or a trap to be avoided. Whispers in the wind or a sudden stillness in the forest may signal that she’s close.

The Huldra is the ultimate outsider she is someone from a far land or another realm entirely. The understanding and perception of the Huldra relates closely to the defining elements of my family name Erlund. There is a recurring theme in Scandinavian tales of a foreigner (an Erlund) wandering into a strange grove and being taken by the Huldra. He then becomes an elf-shot or bergtatt (taken into the mountains). -This can also link to being taken to the fells (the mountains) of Cumbria, creating this connection to the other side of our family.

When the Norse settled in Cumbria, they moved from the fjords of Norway to the fells of the Lake District. In folklore, it was believed that when a family migrated, their ‘land-spirits’ (Landvættir) followed them along the journey.

Unlike mythological Norse figures like Odin or Freya, Huldra doesn’t appear in the Poetic or Prose Edda- the two primary, 13th-century sources for Norse mythology. Instead, she lives in the realm of folktale, where everyday people encounter magical, spirit-like beings. Her role is closer to that of a forest guardian, protecting her domain while interacting with humans in ways that are both enchanting and fearsome.

When deciding which folklore story best depicts our relation to norse roots, I was particularly attracted to the Huldra for a number of reasons. I liked the polarity of her existence, the meaning given to her presence in the woods. I also felt this strong relation to Erlund being a ‘foreigner in a grove’, which is essentially what the Huldra is, on a basic level. We come from the same environment.

Categories
CONTEMPORARY ISSUES IN SOUND ARTS

RAVE (Real-time Audio Variational Auto-Encoder).

RAVE is an audio processing, generative tool, designed by Antoine Caillon and the ACIDS research group at IRCAM. RAVE (Realtime Audio Variational autoEncoder) is a learning framework for generating a neural network model from audio data.

As an encoder, it is able to take sound as an input, and generate new sound as an output – it translates incoming audio into a set of synthesis parameters that are used to generate back the sound.

This is based on two separate processes:

  • Encoding process : where a given parameter of inputed audio is transformed into a set a latent variables (128 parameters in general).
  • Decoding process: inverts these 128 latent variables back into sound.

As each model is trained on a limited set of data, it will try to extract the parameters even if the input sound does not match the original database. This is why RAVE is able to perform timbre transfer. For example, if RAVE has been trained on piano sounds, and is then given a violin sound, it will try to extract synthesis parameters from it and generate it as a piano sound. This allows you to use RAVE as an audio effect through transforming incoming audio, but also as a synthesiser – by directly controlling these latent parameters.

I discovered RAVE through Michael at the LCC Creative Technology Hub and as soon as he mentioned it I recognised the importance of RAVE for myself in this project. It, itself is an AI tool that artists are using to create generative sonic work, with a strong community surrounding the tool, this is a great example of subcultures forming around AI.

RAVE can be seen as a more ethical AI alternative because it’s architectural design, giving you, the user, control over the data being inputed for the generative output. Artists providing sources are able to consent to the use of their audio, therefore if you train it on your own recordings or licensed datasets, it avoids the ‘theft’ concerns often associated with AI tools using the internet.

Because it is used more as a creative instrument rather than a replacement for human labor, the perspective of it being an AI tool is different to, say, how large corporations use AI as a tool.

RAVE’s ability to ‘timber transfer’ allows it to be used in a way which many see as a natural progression of digital music.

Like all deep learning models, training RAVE requires significant computational power, contributing to carbon emissions and the use of water – a common environmental concern for all generative AI. It is hard to say if or how this would change as I feel I currently do not know enough about the environmental impact of these supercomputers which are powering AI. I fully comprehend and empathise with the refusal to use AI due to the environmental damage it has. However, there are many contributing factors to this destruction of nature, which, in contemporary society is hard to control due to the involvement of advanced technology in our everyday lives. This is an aspect of AI that contributes hugely to the mass rejection and lack of acceptance to the use of AI in art, therefore is a key aspect that I will be researching for this essay.

RAVE is an facet of AI that I am able to cite for both elements of this project, the essay as well as the composition. It is a key development in my research for understanding the core of my essay, whilst also providing me with an inspiring, new tool which I can use to create my composition work.

With the work I have been doing this past year, (involving Pure data) I have learnt a vast amount as it was an aspect of sound arts I had no prior knowledge of, and so I have built my work from the ground up in that respect. However I found I got to this point with my work, where, I didn’t quite know which direction to take it in. There are a number of routes I am able to take with the knowledge I now acquire, and I feel using RAVE is one I feel motivated to continue in.

I feel it is important to understand the importance of AI in the contemporary artistic world as it is not leaving anytime soon, in fact the opposite. AI will continue to evolve at rapid speeds and in ways that get more complex, therefore being able to comprehend it now feels significant.

With the coding knowledge I have picked up from using Pure data (although tiny compared to others) I feel confident in continuing to learn and use code in a creative way. Inputting my own entire database of audio into RAVE to then use to create work feels very exciting to me, and is a continuous project that will really allow me to understand both RAVE itself and how AI learns and uses sources to create generative sounds.

Some examples of artists using RAVE:

Mouja: https://youtu.be/4qbK3cw3E5M?si=ef7GszYk2-AMbBYi

Tenor Boston 2023 – Concert: https://youtu.be/kuxYIYgPrTs?si=_SLhYMd4lHSRHuGC

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CONTEMPORARY ISSUES IN SOUND ARTS

Sonic ‘Failures’ : The Corporate Rejection.

The concept of a sonic ‘failure’ stems from the mainstream rejection of radical (of the time) sonic concepts, often occurring when creative innovations clash with commercial demands for consistency, engagement, and traditional structures. With money being at the forefront of the corporate music and arts industry, progressive concepts often get rapidly declined due to the uncertainty of their profit. There is a specific mould in which people know will make money, therefore steering away from this formation poses risk, and the mainstream isn’t risky, it is predictable, expected and formulaic. (Most of them time.)

Often times, when rejected by the mainstream world, such concepts are adopted by subcultures, forming a strong community around the discovery, and enhancing the emotional depth of the work. Subcultures are key in art and music, they supply a non-restrictive space for deeper development, allowing concepts to continue to grow in a very ambitious way. They allow for people to put passion over profit. Unlike the corporate view, seeing the work as a commodity, stripping the emotional context away from the art and the artist, leaving only a ‘product’ left.

This tendency of corporate rejection and underground adoption is continuous throughout history, and often times follows a very similar pattern, repeatedly ending in the reabsorption into mainstream media. This reabsorption occurs due to the popularity that surrounds the once ‘radical’ concept. The community formed, create new, innovative works which begin to attract a wider audience due to their experimental, unheard, and imaginative features. This popularity attracts establishments who recognise they can benefit finically from this public engagement. Frequently using rather unethical methods in order to brand the art.

There are many different examples of this pattern occurring, both prior to and in the contemporary world , sonic examples include:

Luigi Russolo’s ‘Intonarumori‘.

(“noise-intoners”)

Russolo was a key figure in the Italian Futurist movement, a patron for noise, he believed the industrial revolution changed the human ear. For Russolo, the traditional orchestra was a limiting sound, he argued that a modern soul required modern sounds and therefore the rigid definitions of music needed expanding and widening.

In 1913, challenging this definition, Russolo introduced ‘intonarumori’, a hand cranked, acoustic noise maker designed to hiss, howl, and rumble, replicating the industrial sounds of the time. Made up of large wooden boxes with a metal speaker horn on the front. Inside, a complex mechanical system of wheels, strings, and membranes producing sound when a hand crank was turned or a lever moved. There were 27 different sounding machines all together, forming their own complex orchestra. Made to represent the soundscape of modernity.

When exhibited to the public at his 1914 Milan debut of ‘intonarumori’, Russolo was confronted with physical hostility from the audience. To listeners raised on the elegance of opera, used to the sounds of Verdi or Puccini, it felt like an auditory assault, a personal insult on the culture of orchestra itself. It was entirely new perspective on performance, something people were not used to and certainly not comfortable in accepting.

This concept of noise was radical for the time and it is artist like Russolo who completely changed the evolution of sound. He impacted the modern views

Facing this reaction from a mainstream audience, Russolo realised the incapacity of fully conveying the revolutionary, transformative essence of his “art of noises” theory. However he didn’t stop and his work was accepted and welcomed with great admiration from people and artists who were able to understand the importance and relevance of this change in tradition.

‘Intonarumori’ wad destroyed in WWII, however replicas have since been produced, for example: https://youtu.be/BYPXAo1cOA4?si=7EIcGcSffRtCwpYY

Roland TR- 808 Drum Machine.

A more modern example of this ‘sonic rejection’ is the Roland TR- 808 drum machine. Launched in 1980, introduced as ‘realistic-sounding drums’

Prior to the release of the 808, earlier in the year the Linn LM-1 was released, a drum machine which used high-fidelity digital samples of real drums. Corporate studio musicians became accustomed to using a ‘realistic’ sounding machine.

This is where the commercial downfall of the 808 lay. The memory chips needed to play back sampled recordings of real drum sounds were too expensive, and so the engineers of the 808 used analog synthesis to recreate the sounds. Although a simple choice born of necessity, choosing analog over digital technology was the aspect that made the profound impact on music that 808 eventually had.

Due to Rolands choice to use analogue synthesis, every sound was therefore generated by an electrical circuit, making the audio sound thin and synthetic to artists who were used to the realistic sound of a drum kit. The 808 struggled to find its place in the mainstream music establishment, causing issues that producers and musicians didn’t want to deal with, eventually just disregarding it as a ‘worthy’ machine.

The 808 was discontinued in 1983 after only 12,000 units were made.

Due to the commercial failure of the machine, second hand shops and pawn shops became flooded with them, selling them for a fraction of the original price. They then became available to an entirely new audience, who previously, weren’t able to afford the product.

Early hip hop is what made the 808’s name.

Afrika Bambaataa and the Soulsonic Force used the 808 beat in ‘Planet Rock’, this track is is widely considered the first major hip-hop/electro hit to use it, popularising it as a staple of the genre. https://youtu.be/9J3lwZjHenA?si=bB51TRpatbsmhA7t

The 808 was adopted by subcultures of artists who liked the distinct sound of the machine, seeing it as an instrument that wasn’t trying to replicate the realistic sounds of a drum kit, but instead they appreciated the synthetic, robotic and futuristic noises it produced. Musical subcultures in areas of the US such as; the Bronx, Detroit & Miami discovered that the 808’s kick drum was a pure sine wave, meaning, unlike a real kick drum, you could sustain the decay, turning a drum hit into a bass note.

‘Underground’ artists used the 808 in ways it was originally not intended for, however created incredibly inspiring, influential work that changed the sound of genres. So although seen by Roland and the mainstream music industry as a complete failure, people do what they do best and used their creativity to take an existing concept and produce an entirely new perspective of it.

The community that formed around the 808 continued to grow due to the popularity of the genres it became used in. This resulted in the reintegration of the 808 into corporate music. 40 years later, every DAW is pre-loaded with an 808 sound bank.

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SOUND STUDIES AND AURUL CULTURES

Power, Politics & Performance – Lecture wk 4.

Power, Politics & Performance, week 4’s lecture in Sound Studies and Aural Cultures, exploring how sound arts & studies engage with socio-political content. We began this lecture with an open discussion of whether or not our political values and opinions practices are weaved into our practices, and if so, is that a conscious choice? I believe, that regardless of your conscious choice, politics does find it’s way into the majority of peoples practices. For me personally, although the purpose of my practice is not political I am aware of how my opinions seep into my work, however, this is mainly through the effect that the current political state has on myself. I find the current affairs of both this country and the world in general incredibly depressing, there are so many aspects of contemporary political society that are irreparably destructive and devastating, driven by the greed of power. And it is this greed that I find most distressing and affective to my own mindset, in turn affecting the work I am making. I use my practice as a form of self release, I pour emotion and vulnerability into my art, therefore it is a representation of my current state, if I am feeling a certain way, this will be portrayed in my work. So in this aspect, yes my work along with many others is a form of political practice, characterised through the emotional expression.

Because of this kind of unconscious political stream entering my work, I think it is safe to say it will contribute to my audio paper, most likely in the form of the subject matter. When it comes to the more academic side of my studies, I prefer to research and write about topics I previously know nothing about. Although not knowing much about the subject, the choice still revolves around my current interests. Whether it be from a brief article or video I have seen online or relating to a more emotional aspect of my current life, I perceive the subject matter through my own experiences, making it relevant and therefore giving enthusiasm to the work. This relation also provides context as to why I have chosen that particular topic to research and write about. I am looking forward to choosing a subject matter for this audio paper as knowing I can use sound recordings to enhance my point really expands the opportunity for topics. Instead of having to physically explain each aspect of the topic, I can let the sonic components do that, giving context to the listener without boring them.

During this lecture, we looked at a range of audio papers, vastly different in subject matters and production style. It’s simply through listening that I am able to gage what makes for a compelling piece of work. Engaging the listener in a way that they’re able to take in, and process the information whilst still being engrossed by the atmosphere that is created sonically.

Lawrence Abu Hamda is a is a contemporary artist, who’s work looks into the political effects of listening, using various kinds of audio techniques to explore its effects on human rights and law. ‘Received Pronunciations’ is a sound archive that consists of audible extracts of works and interviews by Lawrence, together with specific fragments of juridical listening and speaking collected from a wide range of sources including the trials of Saddam Hussein and Judas Priest.

Received Pronunciations – Lawrence Abu Hamdan

https://rwm.macba.cat/en/podcasts/received-pronunciations

I found this audio paper particular engaging compared to others I have listened to, layering ambient sound, voice recordings and Lawrence’s own narration creates an interesting, complex piece of sonic work. However, the auditory complexity doesn’t override the ability to comprehend the intention of the piece, it simply enhances the narrative. Time and space is left between points to allow the listener the ability to process and relate to the subject matter. This is not done through silence, but instead a pause from Lawrence’s narrative voice, leaving you, the listener, to sit with the atmosphere that is forming alongside the thematic direction. This ambience is created mainly though voice, used as both a structural and emotional tool, voice is fragmented and overlapped to emphasise certain sounds and words.

I really enjoyed the pace of this piece, moving from what felt like different narrative locations throughout the 13 minutes, involving different stories that consciously flow into one another without breaking loose from the environment created. This is a common issue I have found with other audio papers, when the narrator moves form one subject focus to another, however doesn’t do it in a seamless enough way. Often times, as the listener you are brought out of the piece before reentering into the new section, loosing the tone and feel that the narrator has worked hard to create. This is something I want to try an avoid within my work, I want to move from one point to another, using sound sources and recordings to unite the different sections of my vocal narration.

Below is another audio paper, this one by Carlos Manrique Clavijo,  a sound designer and filmmaker, he has worked on several award winning productions including fiction, documentary, and, predominantly, animation. This audio paper revolves around the topic of power in the context of sound, understanding how the audience engage in the experience of a film through it’s sonic qualities.

Carlos Manrique Clavijo: Dynamics of Power Dynamics – How are power dynamics evidenced through loudness in sonic storytelling?

I think that Carlos involves an interesting number or sound sources throughout this piece that evidence his point well, whilst also creating a strong presence and atmosphere. He leaves interesting gaps where he lets the sounds talk for themselves which does entice you as the listener, intrigued to what you’re hearing. However, I do feel a bit more critical of this audio paper, due to the fact that I found myself getting lost throughout the piece, zoning in and out of his overall message.

I struggled to remain alongside his narrative voice throughout, and this wasn’t just because I wasn’t paying attention, I tried multiple times to listen and absorb the whole thing, and each time I struggled to. It is not because the subject matter is uninteresting either, I think the issue lies within the ambience of the piece. The atmosphere that is created has a depth to it, however the darker, resonant sounds used to create this depth allow for a space to be created, a space that continues along side the narrator for the duration of the piece. This space is where I get lost within, the tones that are used make it easy to zone into my own thoughts rather than into the environment of the narrator.

There is also an issue of the slight mono-tonal voice which he uses throughout piece, there is not much variation within the exaggeration of his narration. This is something I find can take me out of an audio work, as I start to become bored of listening to the same tone of voice continuously. As well, it makes it harder to understand where the emphasis of the point lies within his narration. There is a kind of subconscious understanding of an audio paper that comes from the voice emphasising certain aspects of the topic that are of importance. This subconscious comprehension helps draw the listener in, as a change in voice tone often indicates a change in subject matter and so our brains know to refocus and prepare to absorb new material. However, without this Differentiation in tone, it becomes harder to fully focus and easier to again, zone out.

Although I do think this audio paper is done well and portrays an interesting subject matter, I am aware of how and why it doesn’t fully work for me. This awareness comes from being critical, so although I may sound harsh, I think it is important to acknowledge when a piece has flaws and try to understand where these lie so I can try to avoid it in my own work. Also, because this is the first audio paper I have worked on, I want to break apart existing works before beginning to construct my own in order to understand how I, myself engage with them. Therefore I can hopefully make a piece of work that encapsulates me as I work on it, and the listener as they listen to it.

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SOUND STUDIES AND AURUL CULTURES

Narrative, Memory & Storytelling- Lecture wk 7.

Memory is a subject that I find fascinating, I have intensely worked with memory as a focus point for some of my previous work, exploring the effects memories have on oneself throughout life. Memory remains in all 5 sense, and can be brought up through the simplest of sounds or movements. The power it holds, whether people like to admit it or not, is strong, your memories shape your perception and therefore shape how you relate to the world around you. I think that memory embeds itself into more of life than we are fully aware of.

Throughout this lecture we talked about artists and academics whom I hadn’t previously heard of, working in different ways to portray their own interpretation of memory.

One example was Sebastiane Hegarty,  a sound artist, writer and lecturer. ‘His creative practice which is interdisciplinary and time-based in nature, explores the relationship between time, place and sensation.’ This piece specifically, is an audio paper surrounding the relationship of him and his mother, talking about the emotional and perceptual space left behind when someone dies, and how recorded sound can capture a fragile presence of a voice that can no longer speak.

‘It’s Just Where I Put My Words’ – Sebastiane Hegarty –

https://soundcloud.com/sebastiane_hegarty/its-just-where-i-put-my-wordssi=8c5ad200a23f47bca7e201b2ce48baf8&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

This was one of the most emotional audio papers that I have listened to yet, it holds a different value than the more academically driven audio papers do. I am aware this is because the more academic ones have to conform to a structure so they’re able to convey their point, whereas this feels more loose and free. The use of both his and his mothers voice, playing in the present and from his multitude of recordings, creates a really interesting dynamic between the piece and the listener. Hearing his mother’s voice throughout her life feels incredibly personal and creates this relationship that was as if I knew her, I felt entirely present through the 28 minutes, intrigued by, what are really rather uneventful recordings.

The length of the piece itself is the first aspect that allows for more freedom, the longer the audio paper, the more time you’re able give the listener to process what they’re hearing, without having to spell it out for them. This is what allows for a more personal connection, as instead of being forced one interpretation (the speaker’s) they’re able to form their own perspective and idea on the subject matter, linking it to their own personal views and experiences. This means the listener becomes that extra bit engaged as they feel comfortable and aware of what they’re listening to.

Timing is one of the biggest concerns I have for my audio paper as 10 minutes is a rather short amount of time to convey a point, whilst balancing speech with sound recordings, and still giving the listener the necessary processing time. From what I have learnt listening to other audio papers, in regards to speech, less is more. Often times there is so much speech involved in the audio paper that it ends up fighting with the other sounds occurring, so much so you become lost in the point and I often unconsciously zone out.

To combat this I am going to make sure I am precise with what I say, leaving out unnecessary explanations that the listener themself can correctly interpret, in a way they stay engaged. Also, although I am aware that my piece is required as more of an academic paper, I still want to convey a level of emotion in the work as this is what I feel really captures the listener. I will have to do this in a more subtle way that intertwines with my subject matter in order to not loose the academic power behind my point. But I just feel having a balance allows the listener to engage factually with work, as well as emotionally through their memories and lived experiences, therefore leaving with the clearest overall interpretation of the paper.

‘How to Remember’ – Axel Kacoutié –

https://www.thirdcoastfestival.org/feature/how-to-remember

Axel Kacoutié is an audio artist and poet who’s work ‘How to Remember’ is sonically inspired by Axel’s travels to Côte d’Ivoire. The piece is formed around identity, specifically the identity of not belonging, “this work is an attempt to reconcile and accept (in seven steps/scenes) all the parts of me that I’ve either wrongly internalised or intuitively known to be true”.

This work again, is an audio piece that holds a lot of emotion, telling a story through establishing it’s sonic surroundings and using a wide source of sound recordings to do so. This piece is arguing a point more directly, it is told through a personal experience which allows the listener to have someone to sympathise with, therefore being able to better understand the severity of the point.

The choice of sound sources really shone out in this piece, you have this main voice (Axel’s) guiding you through, but this voice is accompanied by other recordings that help emphasise the point and atmosphere created. There is this rather beautiful natural soundscape that flows in and out throughout the 10 minutes which, at parts really establishes the surroundings for the listener, like when talking about the beach. However, at other points it feels it is used as a form of controlling the atmosphere, creating a space where the listener can fall into and flow along with the speaker. The other sources he used that were incredibly effective were the clippings of voices from media snippets, defining the hate towards black people in this country. This choice of source brings attention to the fact that this is a relevant issue which greatly affects multitudes of people everyday, and this is where the anger begins to stir in the piece. Although throughout the piece Axels voice does not change in emotion (he isn’t audibly angry) you begin to feel this build up of emotion, anger as well as others, which is eventually broken when another audio source cuts in.

This use of interrupting the piece with another source is really unique and interesting with the effect it has. Instead of curating them to flow into each other, I really like this structure of using one to cut another up, interjecting itself into the piece when it is relevant and needed to quickly direct the listener to this point. I feel this is a less common effect in audio papers, but works really well for the time frame of 10 minutes. It means you don’t have to spend so long establishing context for the source and instead let it explain itself and give its own context. However, there is a fine line between this working and it not, as without enough context the source can get lost and misunderstood by the listener, taking them out of the piece and causing a disconnection to the point.

Having now listened to a range of audio papers, some more academic and formal, others more emotional and vulnerable, I feel confident in beginning to structure my own. I am aware of the effect I want it to have, and I am now conscious of the vast ways in which I can curate the piece to have that desired effect. I have taken inspiration from others work, understanding why it is it has inspired me, and how I can portray my own inspiration through my audio paper in order to keep the listener engaged and interested.

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SOUND STUDIES AND AURUL CULTURES

Affective Contagion.

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Affective contagion is the tendency to mirror the emotional behaviours and patterns of the people surrounding you, it is often a subconscious process that can be influenced by an array of different facial expressions, body movements, and/or conversations. It can occur on a small scale, such as returning a smile to someone, and can extend to much greater levels like, global mourning. Affective contagion has been specifically related to the feeling of empathy, which is known for causing shared neural activation between the observer and the one being observed, our brain activates similar neural circuits to mimic the experience. This is because the phenomenon is linked to mirror neurons, which are a type of brain cell that fire either when you yourself perform an action or when we witness someone else perform the same action. However, affective contagion is also linked to other systems of the brain such as the Limbic system, which controls the emotion, and the Autonomic Nervous system which controls bodily functions such as the heart rate and breathing.

There are many reasons as to why affective contagion occurs, it being a deep rooted evolutionary tool that humans have relied on for centuries. It is a form of communication that is able to go further than words, no matter the language, you’re able to understand the emotional context being conveyed. The ability to influence and be influenced by the people around you works as a catalyst for many important social experiences that help us grow as humans. For example, children learn through imitation, their ability to share emotion with both their peers and the adults in their life is what teaches them the necessary social skills to recognise, interpret, and respond to the emotional cues of others. As well, humans have used this contagion as a survival mechanism to quickly grasp an understanding of the situation they’re in, for example, fear spreading faster often correlates with danger getting closer. In cases like this it’s the emotional state that is contagious, causing responses like the release of adrenaline to be spread. This tool is incredibly useful in uniting groups, it allows us to regulate our emotions through syncing with others, which also makes for a closer bond within groups, built on trust and acceptance.

Research on the subject matter began in the late 19th century, with Charles Darwin actually being one of the first to publicly recognise that emotion spreads through facial expressions. In his 1872 book ‘The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals’ he argued that emotional expression is not cultural, but instead is something we are born with, that is universal and is inherited. This was a rather radical statement of the time, however paved a way for a lineage of scientific research on the matter.

In the late 19th century Gustave Le Bon, a French social theorist, wrote ‘The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind’, a book about group psychology. In it he argues that when individuals join a crowd they becomes much more emotion led and much less rational. They lose their individual identity and become part of a shared psychological state, which overrides personal values and heightens emotions. This theory gave inspiration and influence to some of the most influential researchers such as Sigmund Freud, who agreed with Le Bon’s theory that individuals behave differently in crowds, but he offered a deeper explanation based on factors such as identification and having group leaders act as father figures.

Research continued around shared emotional states, however it wasn’t until the 1980s when the term ‘affective contagion’ became more standard within sociology and psychology. In 1993 Elaine Hatfield, an American social psychologist, released her book (along side John T Cacioppo and Richard Rapson) titled ‘Emotional Contagion’, providing evidence and a framework for understanding how emotions spread between people. This book popularised the term and made it much more known and widely used within neuroscience, psychology, and cultural theory. The book focuses on the behavioural mechanisms such as mimicry that are involved in the process of emotional contagion, exploring evidence from various fields, suggesting emotional mirroring is a fundamental part of human interaction

Understanding affective contagion is an important factor for this work, as I want to be able to decipher the difference between when emotional contagion is occurring and when it is another factor at hand. This will become required when writing my script as the case studies I am using are videos, and so I want to be able to portray to the listener how I have seen, through the footage, affective contagion happening via body language and facial expression. I need to be able to express it sonically for the listener to grasp the full extent to which the crowds of people are affecting each other.

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SOUND STUDIES AND AURUL CULTURES

Collective Mourning. Case study – North Korea.

Collective mourning is a shared experience of grief that occurs within a group of people in response to a significant loss. It is a reaction that unites people through death, whether it be a community, region or entire nation, collective mourning is powerful and often brings out a kind of hysteria that is not very common within society.

There are lots of different examples of collective mourning that have occurred in the world, and not all involve the death of just one person, for example 9/11 saw a huge response of collective grief. However, for this project I am interested in looking at the reactions different communities have to the death of one important person.

The first example I am looking at is North Korea’s public reaction to the death of Kim Jong Il, the second supreme leader of North Korea, he ruled for 17 years from 1994 to 2011.

North Korea had an incredibly intense public grieving period, one that was filled with hysteria and horror on a mass level. The North Korean regime commemorated his death with elaborately choreographed ceremonies broadcast on state-run media.When I first saw the videos of the public’s reactions I was rather shocked, it was the noises that were being produced that caught me out. These were types of cries and screams that I had never heard in such large numbers before.

The death of Kim Jon Il was sudden and came as a surprise to everyone, he died on December 17 2011, age 70, from a heart attack he suffered on board a train. His death was announced in an emotional statement on national television, even the women announcing the news struggled to keep back the tears. A period of national mourning was declared from December 17 to 29. This national mourning process was compulsive, and I have found multiple sources stating if you did not attend you would have been punished. This mandatory grieving of course makes for a change in the way people react as it becomes a forced process rather than a natural one, forced out of fear. This factor alone holds responsibility for a huge part of the reasoning behind North Korea’s collective mourning, however it is not the sole root of the response. I am also not 100% certain on how this compulsion worked, if it was put in place, as there aren’t many sources talking specifically about it, this is something North Korea wouldn’t want outsider countries to necessarily know about, and so information is limited.

It is impossible to know the root of each individual emotional response, but I can confidently say that affective contagion definitely comes into play surrounding their collective mourning. (Referring back to previous blog post.)

This reaction is an amalgamation of different emotions, some of which are undoubtedly very common in response to death, however, there are many properties that group together to form this level of response.

It is not surprising that the North Koreans reacted in the way they did, as every individuals life revolves around their leader. They’re taught through their films, songs, posters, even in their school curriculum, that the Kim family are these almost spiritual figures who are there to act as protectors and saviours for their citizens. Their leader is pushed upon them as THE most important aspect of life, and so of course if you have grown up with these principles, then, although it be through manipulation and propaganda, you would feel distraught when he dies.

The lack of exposure and education to any kind of other life and world also contributes to the intensity of their response. There are no alternative narratives to the one they’re fed from birth and without the awareness of outsider information it is easy to believe what is in front of you, easy to believe that your leader is responsible for your very survival.

This responsibility also links the traumas that North Korea have lived through, such as the 1990s North Korean famine, the Korean War and intense ongoing poverty. Propaganda relentlessly frames the Kim leaders as the ‘hero’, stating he protects the country from external enemies, that he suffers for the people, essentially painting him as a symbol of survival.

I think there is also a level of fear that is feeding into the hysteria, a fear of the now unknown and next chapter that is going to infiltrate these peoples lives. Kim Jon Il reigned for 17 years, and his absence creates a new tension to arise, people are facing a future they have no control over, heightening the panic that fuels the collective hysteria. Change throughout any culture is something people struggle with, but a change that you have no influence, choice or power over makes it incredibly scary. Your life is being put into someone else’s hands entirely.

I will say however, coming from an outside perspective, especially a western one, I am aware it is incredibly hard to try understand the emotional response of North Korean society. I live a hugely different life in which I have shaped my perspectives and beliefs on the world out of my own free will. A choice North Koreans are never given. It becomes difficult to empathise as we have such different perspectives on life. And as I continue to dive into this subject matter I am aware of how this barrier can cause ethical questions, however, I am not picking apart their emotional mechanisms to judge and point out the differences, rather I am doing it to compare to other communities whom have grown up with contrasting values. Hopefully being able to show that no matter the cultural differences, people remain the same emotionally, especially in response to death.

So far I haven’t even mentioned the media’s influence on North Korea’s public response to the death. This is a crucial aspect in shaping an emotional response and one that hold a significant amount of power.

Media coverage is so highly controlled in North Korea, it functions entirely as a section of the state. There is no independent journalism or private media companies, and every newspaper, television channel, radio broadcast, and online platform is controlled by the government, all the content shown is produced to reinforce loyalty to the leading Kim family and the ideology of ‘Juche’ (North Korea’s state ideology meaning self-reliance).This makes citizens much more malleable, as our everyday media intake really influences who we are as a person, it is a tool used world-wide to manipulate and influence viewers.

Media teaches certain behaviours, and when in charge of media coverage it becomes a choreographed job to ensure you’re feeding your viewers with the correct message. In the case of the death, not only was the media used to produce a desired reaction but also to continually reinforce it in the days that followed the death. This drove the hysteric atmosphere that ruled over North Korea during the entire mourning period. The first images to be broadcast after Kim Jon Il’s death showed the crowds of people crying, screaming, and shaking in response. These scenes were reported to be continuously repeated across television and radio, functioning as a kind of ideal, appropriate emotional expression. Through watching others grieve, citizens learned and understood exactly what reaction was expected of them, and this created a kind of ritualised, collective behaviour of what it meant to mourn.

This kind of puppetry is one intense way in which media can interfere with a national reaction to death, intervening in the organic patterns of emotional contagion. It is able to create this un-natural, performative display from citizens, that through various means is able to manipulate on a mass scale. This is one example of the impact media coverage, of the mourning event itself, is able to have on people however I think media is also able to shape and pre-engineer a crowd’s reaction before the event has occurred. This kind os mass control is more common then we are really conscious of, especially now as everybody uses the internet on a daily bases, cookies are constantly being used to analyse patterns and behaviours of the brain.