© AURA SATZ / COURTESY OF THE ARTIST
Films are meant to be heard rather than listened to: that used to be industry wisdom. Cinema, the argument went, began as a visual medium; sound arrived after. And actors communicated more powerfully with their eyes and bodies than their voices. Does anyone still believe this? Many contemporary filmmakers—among them Alfonso Cuaron, Lynne Ramsay and Jonathan Glazer (whose The Zone of Interest just won Best Sound at the Academy Awards)—are sound artists as much as they are directors.
More and more directors are preoccupied by listening. Listening as art form, emotional archaeology, ethical activity, social and political battlefield. For screenings of the documentary 32 Sounds, Sam Green gives his audiences headphones, the better for them to hear the mating call of a nearly extinct moho braccatus bird. Lisa Rovner’s Sisters with Transistors is a history of female producers such as theremin pioneer Clara Rockmore and BBC Radiophonic Workshop composer Delia Derbyshire, who deployed “unfeminine” technologies to create brave new sonic worlds. Daniel Weintraub’s recent Deep Listening: The Story of Pauline Oliveros is a moving portrait of the American experimental musician who drew on ritualistic and improvisatory techniques to make the natural environment resonate.