Sounding Off

"These days, life seems like a dance of picking and choosing. Not that, but this. Not this, but that. Swipe. Skip. Replay. Mute. We turn one thing off and another on. And the noise? It's everywhere. Like it or not, we're always hearing something, yet how often do we truly listen? And what about the silence? When do we ever make space for that?"

"A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to see a snowboarding film by Finlay Woods called "The Sound of Japan." Now, there are a lot of ski and snowboard films these days, but this one really stood out not for the snowboarding content, but because the snowboarding was a medium through which to display the primary artistic element of the film: sound."

"These sorts of films often have an evocative soundtrack, one filled with fervor and intensity, but the soundtrack for "The Sound of Japan" is exactly what the title says: the sounds of Japan. In a true act of artistry, the filmmakers collected an array of sounds from around Japan and used them to create a beautiful symphony. The result is a mesmerizing film that was both visually and audibly stunning."

"About a week later, I found myself on a trip to none other than Japan. While there, I made a point to take note of the sounds. They were everywhere. The entire country seemed alive: electronic beeps in the city, trains whooshing through tunnels, voices, footsteps, tires humming, noodles being slurped, water rushing. The list could go on and on."

A snowboarding film titled "The Sound of Japan" uses ambient and urban sounds from across Japan as its primary artistic element. Filmmakers collected diverse Japanese sounds to compose a symphony that complements the visual snowboarding medium. A visit to Japan revealed vibrant soundscapes—city electronic beeps, trains, voices, footsteps, tires, slurped noodles, water—each time and place with its own song. Returning to the U.S. contrasted those textures with an incessant American soundtrack of radio, television, phones, politics, social media, and broadcasts. The contrast highlights how constant digital noise often drowns ambient, natural, and local soundscapes.

Read at iRunFar