2.3 Main Concepts, Models, Terms

The historical and social contexts in which each approach developed and the epistemological process they followed have a direct impact on their definition and conceptualisation of the sound environment. Each particular perspective produces a set of concepts and ideas through which sonic reality is framed. A closer look at these concepts and terms is necessary before moving them ‘out-of-context’ and into an even broader interdisciplinary framework. “When concepts circulate within a cultural field they stimulate cross-fertilization, but they also bear the traces of local disciplinary economies” (Klein, 1996, p. 50). These concepts must therefore be compared contextually, always keeping in mind the perspective under which they appear, and then analysed in term of their respective potential for the construction of a merged model .

2.3.1 The Soundscape

The concept at the core of the WSP model is the soundscape, a term originally coined by R. Murray Schafer. While it has been used extensively, in its more general meaning, to refer to “any portion of the sonic environment regarded as a field of study” (Schafer, 1977c, p. 274), the most significant features of the notion of soundscape are its centering of the listener and the musicality which it confers to the environment. Together, these two components will reflect on almost every concept offered by the WSP to define, assess and design particular ‘sound landscapes’.

By describing the soundscape as being a subjective experience, the WSP positions itself in opposition to traditional scientific approaches based on a positivist claim to objective knowledge. It also makes the issue of the quality of the environment a more ‘grass-root’ one, which concerns and must be addressed by everyone. According to the WSP, “a soundscape cannot be divorced from those responsible for it, since it is not merely a physical reality but a mental one as well” (Truax, 1974, p. 37). For Schafer, acoustic design is not about “control from above”, but “rather a matter of the retrieval of a significant aural culture, and that is a task of everyone” [emphasis his] (1977c, p. 206). The soundscape must be experienced, must be listened to, and this is why sound education appears as an essential component, not simply a complement, to soundscape studies. This is also why most of the concepts introduced and used by the WSP deal principally with the subjective, perceptual analysis of the sound environment (Truax, 1974), in a way to complement traditional objective and positivist approaches.

The musicality conferred by Schafer and the WSP to the soundscape is not a revolutionary concept in itself. The musical developments of the 20th century have largely extended the idea of ‘music’ to integrate sounds from the environment, and new technological noises. As early as 1913, Russolo claimed that composers “must break out of [the] limited circle of sounds and conquer the infinite variety of noise-sounds” (Russolo, 1986, p. 25). What makes the approach of the WSP particular is the fact that the concept of “Music of the Environment” (the name of the book series produced by the WSP and edited by Schafer) has a very strong impact on the analysis, treatment and assessment of the soundscape. Not only is the environment defined in musical terms, but the role of acoustic designers is also explicitly described as a compositional one. Schafer also explored the relation between changing soundscapes and the history of music (1977c), although this path does not appear to have been extended in the WSP’s research.

The role of technological progress in the burdening of the soundscape constitutes one of the main aspects described by the WSP. In fact, the descriptive framework of two of the main projects realised by the WSP, The Vancouver Soundscape (1978) and the Five Village Soundscapes (1977b), seems to literally suggest a return to a pre-Industrial soundscape. And for Schafer (1977c), this is one of two solutions to the growing noise pollution: a global aural awareness through education, or a major energy crisis: “The largest noises in the world today are technological; thus the crack-up of technology would eliminate them” (p. 181). This utopian soundscape is also expressed in a different way in the conclusion of the Five Village Soundscapes (1977b), in which the traditional village soundscape is described as a model of a balanced and acoustically rich environment threatened by technological invasion. To discuss contemporary urban environments in terms of their soundscape therefore implies a particular aesthetic and utopian positioning of the analysis, which may be problematic when dealing with noise issues and cultural implications of acoustic design. The musicality of the soundscape and the way it is described by the WSP could perhaps be read as a Westernised acoustic composition that often fails to account for the intimate relationships built between urban inhabitants and their sound environment. However, the concept of soundscape as a subjectively experienced acoustic environment remains crucial in the context of our present case study.

2.3.2 Features of the Sound Environment

To describe the quality of an environment, the WSP uses two terms borrowed from the field of sound recording and playback: hi-fi and lo-fi (for high and low fidelity).


The hi-fi soundscape is one in which discrete sounds can be heard clearly because of the low ambient level (...) In the ultimate lo-fi soundscape, the signal to noise ratio is 1 to 1 and it is no longer possible to know what, if anything, is to be listened to. (Schafer, 1978, p. 49)


The ‘level’ of fidelity is therefore rarely absolute; it is a relative measure that helps in comparing environments and assessing their quality. Rural towns, Schafer writes, are more hi-fi than cities, and night more than day (1977b). This primary criterion (the capacity to distinguish specific sounds in a sound environment) implies a communicational aspect of the soundscape: foreground sounds, the WSP argues, convey information to the inhabitants of a particular environment (1977b). A gradual masking of these sounds therefore implies a loss of connection with the environment, and necessitates a slow raising of the level of sound signals, so that they remain audible.

The sound signals of a soundscape are these specific sounds which are foregrounded, and which actively require our attention. In contrast, keynote sounds “do not have to be listened to consciously; they are overheard but cannot be overlooked, for keynote sounds become listening habits in spite of themselves” (Schafer, 1978, p. 29). The term keynote comes from music theory; a keynote is not necessarily heard explicitly, but rather is a central point around which a sound structure evolves. The importance of keynote sounds and their possible “deep and pervasive influence on our behaviour and moods” (p. 29) remain vaguely described by the WSP. A historical look at changes in keynote sounds indeed reveals a move from natural and human-made keynotes to technological keynotes, but the consequences of this change remain to be discussed. The opposition signal-keynote is analogous to the notion of figure-ground found in visual perception; together, these two elements form a basic percept, and they therefore need to be studied together. It is argued, for instance, that the rising level of emergency sound signals must be understood as a consequence of increasing ambient levels (Schafer, 1978).

Amphoux (1991, 1993a, 1993b) uses, in his tripartite model of the sound environment, a slightly more detailed description involving three main features. What the WSP has defined as a keynote finds its equivalent in the notion of sonic background (Hellström, 2003, p. 155), the elements of an environment that usually go unnoticed. Then, Amphoux describes the sonic ambience (ibid.), an intermediary component “situated between the ‘heard’ and the ‘listened to’” (Amphoux, 1991, p. 61; my translation). The ambience is generally perceived as an overall dynamic, the sonic signature of a location. Finally, sonic signals refer, in the same way as the WSP’s sound signals, to emerging sound events, consciously heard and identified; these are the foreground sounds.
This tripartite model will be preferred in our synthesis, because not only does it use the two concepts proposed by the WSP (signal and background), but it adds a third, intermediary feature that prevents the model from producing dichotomies. The notion of ambience is central to the sonic identity of a location, and therefore plays a perceptual role that would be ignored by a traditional figure/ground model such as the one proposed by the WSP. By providing a more detailed description of the sound environment, it also facilitates the classification and use of the listeners’ comments and observations, which often fall into intermediary impressions and imprecise descriptions. Finally, the use of a tripartite model makes the production of “representative” recordings easier, as we will see in the Methodology section (see also Amphoux, 1991, p. 64).

2.3.3 The Acoustic and Electroacoustic Community

The particular relation that takes place between a soundscape and its inhabitants may also be understood in terms of acoustic community. At the core of the acoustic community is the acoustic space, as opposed to the traditional and biased ‘visual space’. “What is needed is a reassertion of the importance, both socially and ultimately legally, of acoustic space as a different but equally important means of measurement” (Schafer, 1977c, p. 215). This leads to an understanding of community as a set of sound signals, soundmarks and other aural clues that are recognised and used by a group of people. A soundmark, the sonic equivalent of landmark, is a “prominent feature of a soundscape, possessing properties of uniqueness, symbolic power or other qualities which make it especially conspicuous or affectionately regarded” (1978, p. 37). Traditional communities may be defined by the range of the human voice, or be centered around a church bell (1977c). The introduction of electroacoustic means of communication is understood by the WSP as a way to extend communities, while affecting their fundamental rhythms and patterns (1978).
The introduction of louder technologies also affects the definition and clarity of acoustic communities, internally as well as externally (e.g. noise coming from neighbouring communities). Sonic intrusions, the appearance of ‘foreign’ signals in a community, may create masking and a reduction of the acoustic space of inhabitants (1977b). The signals do not necessarily come from ‘outside’ the community; in fact, the introduction of major technological changes (air and motor traffic for instance) is understood by the WSP as a principal cause of intrusion, which severely imbalances the acoustic system.

A well-designed acoustic community, according to Truax (2001), must integrate (a) a variety of sounds, (b) a complexity in terms of communicational processes and (c) must be balanced, “as a result of spatial, temporal, social, and cultural constraints on the system” (p. 78). These three features, which are based on the definition of acoustic communities and their functioning as defined by the WSP, are to be reflected in any attempt at acoustic design; they also indicate three criteria that can be used to assess a particular community or soundscape. It should be noticed that these features are inter-dependent: an external perturbation (the introduction of electroacoustic technologies for instance) may imbalance an acoustic system by creating an overload of information (with media technologies) or the opposite, a loss of structural or informational complexity and a flattening of one’s acoustic horizon.
The use of general criteria allows researchers to deal with an extensive number of parameters and factors (be they acoustic, physical, symbolic or informational) by grouping them according to their perceptual impact and their particular influence on the system. The notion of complexity, for instance, refers “both to the quality of the sounds [an acoustic community] includes and to the level of information processing performed by the inhabitants in recognising and using such sounds” (Truax, 2001, p. 80). Again, the central role of the listener is emphasised through a subjective—although measurable—understanding of the communicational processes of a particular community.

It is clear for the WSP that the introduction of electroacoustic technologies has a fundamental impact on the soundscape and the balance of acoustic communities. The ‘nervous’ tone conferred to the notion of schizophonia expresses a discomfort with the progressive appearance of a soundscape in which “machine-made substitutes are providing the operative signals directing modern life” (Schafer, 1977c, p. 91). In his analysis of electroacoustic communication, Truax does not simply confirm or deny such changes, but provides specific processes and guidelines to understand how exactly new communicational means may extend or transform acoustic communities.

Because electroacoustic technologies completely transform the behaviour of sound, their impact may not be simply adapted to the traditional model of acoustic communities. What Truax provides is a model of electroacoustic communities based on the new properties of audio communication, whose effect “may range from a simple extension through to complete transformation in definition and behavior” (2001, p. 205). Truax emphasises the use of electroacoustic sounds for marketing purposes, and therefore re-positions the acoustic community as a market, whose amplified signals and keynotes (e.g. repetitive jingles, ads, etc.) provide the central link between corporations and listener-consumers.

For Truax, “the impact of electroacoustic technology is a ‘zero sum’ operation” (2001, p. 212); the resulting modifications in terms of variety and complexity, if we refer to features of traditional acoustic communities, are not necessarily positive or negative, unless they affect the overall balance of the system—which in fact they often do. This of course does not mean that technologies affecting the soundscape are neutral. Truax’s model makes use of the same technological elements and properties to produce an alternative design. It is clear, however, that since “technology does not originate from within the environment, but rather is imposed on it from without” [emphasis his] (p. 212), it produces an impact that is very different from previous (purely) acoustic transformations as described by the WSP.

The approach taken at CRESSON concerning the individual and social relations to the sound environment differs radically—but in a rather complementary way. The listener-environment interaction is understood in term of three dimensions of sonic identity, three types of relationships possible: The connu (C) [known], the vécu (V) [lived] and the sensible (S) [sensed] (Amphoux, 1993a, 1993b; Hellström, 2003 for the translation). These three dimensions (referred to as C-V-S) can be found at various levels in any sonic “experience” of the urban environment, and may be used as guidelines in describing or assessing the complex modern soundscape. They do not specifically identify types of sounds, or types of listeners, but rather the relation that is established between sounds and interpretation, between reality and representation.

The known dimension (C) refers to a symbolic representation of the city (Amphoux, 1991, 1993a, 1993b), one that is known and understood both by inhabitants and foreign listeners. The soundmarks of the WSP would be included in this first dimension, since they “conventionally represent a city” (Amphoux, 1993a, p. 16; my translation). They can be recognised and understood even by listener who never visited the city or heard the actual sound in a “live” situation. Vancouver’s known soundscape, for instance, would be constituted of foghorns, train whistles, and perhaps the nine o’clock gun in Stanley Park. More generally, the type of reverberation typical of the location of Vancouver (being surrounded on one side by water and on the other side by mountains) could be said to belong to the known character of the city soundscape.

The lived dimension (V) is situated “within the experience that develops through relatedness and by people’s practice” (Hellström, 2003, p. 152). It is the semiotic index, it remains partly arbitrary but subjected to one’s experience and individual perception. It is located more at the level of the neighbourhood, as it points to particular, regionally known and experienced sonic features, such as a square, a park or an alley. Here, knowledge of the location is essential to the identification and understanding of sound signals; they are not simply representative but become expressions of a location.

Finally, the sensed dimension (S) refers to sonic icons, signs of an “urbanity” that become spaceless, in the sense that they express a type of place or a type of experience rather than an actual location. The café, the market or the parade are all examples of “sensed places” that “give rise to a specific ‘sensation of the city’” (Hellström, 2003, p. 153). They are universal and tautological, in the sense that they do not need to be assigned to specific, concrete locations or experiences. They do not represent a city, nor do they express a sense of experienced soundscape; they are the sonic icons of the urban space.

These three dimensions are used in Amphoux’s methodology to help in selecting various locations to reflect the sonic identity of a city. They can also be used to express particular relationships to the city, connections that sometimes contradict more conventional notions of design. The noise of the city, for instance is not simply a “disturbance”, but also a part of one’s experience of that city, a feature that may even stimulate sociability—notably through the creation of a sonic anonymity (the background noise being then being used as a mask that provides a feeling of isolation or even intimacy; see for instance Chelkoff, 1988).

2.3.4 The Sound Effect

The notion of sound effect is a valuable tool when dealing with complex urban environments, since it refers to an ensemble of features—be they subjective or objective—that can be quickly identified and linked to each other. It is not a “closed” concept, in the sense that it only provides a framework of relationships, a basis for further analysis and comparison. The combination of sound effects (which are fundamentally contextual but encourage overall comparisons) with theories of acoustic communication (which aim at understanding the interactive relationships between listeners, sounds and the soundscape) can therefore allow an in-depth analysis of the sound environment that will go beyond traditional noise studies, aesthetic approaches or ecological models (which often remain trapped in a “good or bad” dichotomy).

The large number of sound effects described and studied at CRESSON (sixteen major and over sixty minor effects) makes impossible a thorough coverage of all effects in the context of this thesis. The reader may refer, for a complete overview and description of the effects, to the original Répertoire des Effets Sonores [A Repertoire of Sound Effects] (Augoyard & Torgue, 1995) or to Björn Hellström’s translation of the effects’ basic definitions (2003).
The sound effects can however be grouped under three types of classifications, which again indicate their interdisciplinary and multi-leveled nature. First, major effects are described extensively and through various disciplines in the Répertoire (Augoyard & Torgue, 1995), while minor ones are simply introduced with a brief description. This first classification allows both the presentation of a large variety of effects and a thorough description and analysis of the most important—or rather most developed—ones.

Major effects are discussed based on their “disciplinary context” (Hellström, 2003, p. 105), that is, the particular signification or value they present in each of five main disciplines:
-Physical and applied acoustics;
-Architecture and urbanism;
-Sociology and everyday culture;
-Musical and electroacoustic aesthetics;
-Literary and media expressions. (Augoyard & Torgue, 1995, p. 15; my translation)

Finally, a third classification, implemented as an alternative table of contents, divides all effects into five main categories describing the various relationships taking place between the sound environment and humans experiencing it (p. 15). These categories are:
(1) Elementary effects, linked to the sound itself or its particular space of diffusion (filtering, distortion, reverberation…).
(2) Compositional effects, in which the spatial and temporal unfolding of the sound triggers a specific effect (masking, drone, telephone effect…)
(3) Effects linked to perceptual organisation. These are due to a perceptual mechanism that is dependent on the listener’s culture, associations, subjective reactions, etc. (remanence, anticipation, metamorphosis…)
(4) Psychomotor effects, in which a form of interaction (be it soundmaking, movement or other) is present (niche, attraction…).
(5) Semantic effects, based on a de-contextualisation or a shift in meaning (imitation). (Augoyard & Torgue, 1995, p. 15-16; my translation)

2.3.5 Schizophonia and Electroacoustic Communication

The appearance of electronic means of sound transmission and storage has had a profound impact on the modern soundscape and the behaviour of citizens. To discuss this particular form of sound diffusion, Schafer coined in The New Soundscape (1969/1988) the term schizophonia, which means ‘split sound’ (a sound that is separated from its original source). The fact that the word schizophonia sounds like schizophrenia is not coincidental; in fact, from the outset, Schafer gives to the expression a very strong connotative meaning. “I want very much to suggest to you the same sense of aberration and drama that this word [schizophonia] evokes, for the developments of which we are speaking have had profound effects on our lives” (1988, p. 139-40).
This connotation will remain with the use of the word by the WSP; when discussing the introduction of schizophonic sounds in The Vancouver Soundscape (1978), for instance, the author emphasises the dual nature of such a technology, being both a source of large benefits but also a contribution to the “overpopulation of the soundscape” (Schafer, 1978, p. 41). The impacts of schizophonic technologies on acoustic communities are also discussed in terms of the extension and the modification of rhythms through radio broadcasting, and the use of Moozak as an artificial keynote (1977c). Truax (2001) reiterates the implications of the schizophonic experience and the way in which “electroacoustic sound imposes its character on an environment because of its ability to dominate, both acoustically and psychologically” [emphasis his] (p. 134-5). Furthermore, Truax notices how this phenomenon quickly became accepted as “normal”, except for some particular situations that remain awkward to listeners. He discusses the implications of this adaptation not only as a reaction to the growing noise pollution (which encourages the use of embedded, schizophonic soundscapes—notably the personal stereo player), but also in terms of the transformation of the acoustic community into a market dominated by corporate-controlled means of communication.


2.3.6 Types of Listening

In the second chapter of Acoustic Communication (2001), Truax presents an extensive description of listening patterns and the way in which listening must be examined as a fundamental component of any soundscape (since, in the end, the sound environment is being experienced through human hearing). While the WSP had already introduced the important role and ‘aural responsibility’ of the listener (and the consequent need for ear cleaning), a communicational framework was necessary to underline the intimate relation between a particular type of listening and the context in which it takes place.
Truax presents three basic types of listening, three levels of attention which acknowledge the subtle listening processes “most often ignored by researchers, given the traditional assumption that listening involves full attention” (2001, p. 22). The first level is called listening-in-search, and refers to a very focused listening in which one actively searches for particular sounds, patterns, voices etc. The ability of the brain to select particular sound signals while ignoring others is fully demonstrated in the classical example of the ‘cocktail-party effect’, described as early as 1953 by the American researcher E. C. Cherry and considered by Augoyard as a sound effect.

The second kind of listening, that of listening-in-readiness, involves a more subtle relationship which “depends on associations being built up over time” (Truax, 2001, p. 22.). In this case, the attention is focused elsewhere (on visual percepts for instance), but the ear can still react to particular sound signals that carry a specific information, or correspond to memorised patterns or timbres (e.g. a baby crying at night, the voice of a friend…). The context becomes essential in the communicational process, since the ‘recognition’ or selection of a sound does not happen consciously. This type of listening depends for instance on the quality of the particular sound environment in which it takes place (Truax, 2001); hi-fi environments provide clearer signals and a more balanced design in which specific sonic clues can be more easily recognised and interpreted. In a lo-fi situation, on the other hand, the low signal-to-noise ratio “destroys the fundamental basis that permits effective acoustic communication” (p. 24).

Finally, background listening refers to a situation in which “we are not listening for a particular sound, and when its occurrence has no special or immediate significance to us” (ibid.). Truax links this type of listening with the notion of keynote sound, the ground element over which signals are heard. Keynote sounds, according to Truax, are a fundamental aspect of acoustic communication precisely because they are constantly present but perceptually ignored. Modern keynotes, for instance, are generally “flat-line or steady sounds” (p. 25) as well as repetitive broadband noises that are quickly ‘backgrounded’ because of their acoustic properties. They therefore become more easily accepted, but remain nonetheless a source of “extra stress on the body and a greater information load on the brain” (p. 27). This is a clear example of the interaction between environment and listening patterns: constant, low-information sounds (e.g. traffic, electrical hums, air-conditioning…) are easily pushed into the background, but in the meantime they increase the ambient level and create habituation, which in turn necessitates a progressive increase of the intensity of sound signals.

These three levels of attention have adapted, according to Truax, to new electroacoustic technologies and a transformed environment. The new tools and communication systems have extended the continuum of attention and created two additional types of listening. On the one hand, the use of sound recording and editing tools create an analytical listening, in which sound is analysed not only at a semantic level (as a signifier, or the result of an action), but also as a ‘sound object’ (as Pierre Schaffer would call it), a definable sonic construction that can be isolated, repeated, looped, edited… (Truax, 2001). This type of listening creates new degrees of proficiency, in terms of an evaluation of both the quality of reproduced sounds, and the internal details of electronically processed sounds.

On the other end of the continuum, background listening merges into distracted listening as sound becomes less and less informational, filling our environment as a ‘soundtrack’ of our lives and a surrogate, virtual soundscape (Gitlin, 2001). What is particular with distracted listening (in comparison with background listening) is that the “sound itself is often one that would normally have been considered a foreground sound, such as voice and music” (Truax, 2001, p. 169). This is due in part to the electroacoustic possibility of producing the exact repetition of a sound, without the contextual variants found in purely acoustic repetitions. Distracted listening situations may include for instance turning on music, the television set or radio to be accompanied in our daily routine. A second characteristic of distracted listening is that the sound may be consciously chosen by the listener, not simply imposed. Background sounds are chosen to “fill a gap of a deficiency in the environment” (ibid.), or to provide a personalised soundtrack to mask or replace the surrounding, acoustic soundscape. Media have quickly become the main providers of surrogate relationships with others and the real world. Westerkamp (1988) has discussed the effects of Music-as-Environment on the communicational habits of distracted listeners and its influence on soundmaking. Truax’s analysis, on the other hand, focuses on the use of distracted listening techniques for the creation of a listener-consumer (2001). The effectiveness of advertising relies in this case on an understanding of background listening processes to make sure that the message will be heard, consciously or not.

One of the most developed theoretical components of Amphoux’s methodology remains the repertoire of qualitative criteria, classified as three types of listening to the world (Amphoux, 1991, 1993a, 1993b). These criteria “are all trans-cultural, in the sense that they can appear in various cities or locations” (Amphoux, 1991, p. 185; my translation). They express three main types of listening (identified as (E-M-P), and are three ways to relate to one’s sonic experience of the city. Rather than addressing the role of attention and perceptual modes (as does Truax’s classification), they express the various possible ways one relate to or interpret a surrounding soundscape; they are more attitudes than listening modes.

The first type of listening is referred to as l’écoute environnementale (E) [environmental listening], and is “described as the criteria of quality i.e. a sonic order that is objective, assessable and controllable” [emphasis his] (Hellström, 2003, p. 161). The sonic environment therefore points to an analytical, or descriptive approach to the world, in which one uses objective observations to “represent” the sound environment. The space, sounds and meanings are described as external, belonging to the world, and the approach is clearly analytical. In this first approach, the listener is removed from the experienced soundscape.

The second type of listening, l’écoute médiale (M) [milieu listening], concerns the expressed sonic comfort of a space, a percept that is not described objectively but experienced contextually (Hellström, 2003). This approach produces criteria of qualification which “do not account for the environmental morphology, but rather present a prescriptive discourse on what should be or what should not be a sonic milieu” (Amphoux, 1993a, p. 37; my translation). In this case, the criteria used will be related to value judgments, ideals, and the role of imagination. The listener becomes directly involved in the description and interpretation of the soundscape.

Finally, the last type of listening is the écoute paysagère (P) [landscape listening], which describes the “perception of the sonic landscape” (Hellström, 2003, p. 158). The appreciation of the sound environment is now on a sentient, aesthetic level, a state of contemplation of the world that talks to us (Amphoux, 1993a, 1993b). Here, criteria of qualitativeness will express what the environment symbolises for the listener, its perceived “soul”. The listener does not objectify or express the soundscape, but rather contemplates it; it almost seems as if “the sound ambience expresses its own quality and induce the listener into an attitude corresponding to this quality” (Amphoux, 1993a, p. 38; my translation).

These three approaches to the sonic world are intimately connected with other tripartite processes described by Amphoux (the background-ambience-signal model, and the C-V-S). The particular connection, for instance, taking place between a “lived” experience (V) of a specific ambience, may find an appropriate criterion of evaluation in terms of a milieu listening, one that is experienced and subjective. The sonic environment, on the other hand, would be described in terms of its known character (C), features that are “externally” identified and objectified. These various correspondences allow a movement between the various possible experiences of the sound environment; as such, they also complement Truax’s proposed types of listening (2001). Truax’s approach emphasises the role of attention and the selective capability of the hearing system, criteria which he then uses to draft design theories. In the case of Amphoux’s types of listening, it is the degree of interaction and the variable progression from a representation (the environment), to an expression (the milieu) and a perception (the landscape) which define one’s relationship to the surrounding sound environment. While this model provides extremely pertinent tools to gather, classify and relate various approaches and descriptions of the sound environment, they still require a communicational framework which may explain particular relationships or provide design guidelines to interpret them.

2.3.7 Acoustic and Electroacoustic Design

The WSP has introduced the idea of acoustic design as a complement of acoustic ecology, a discipline that would deal with the particular acoustic prerequisites involved in assessing or designing a sound environment. However, as we have seen, the references to a design theory of the soundscape remain generally vague, centred on the creation of a hi-fi soundscape and the elimination of unwanted sounds. Truax provides a more detailed guideline by framing his approach around a communicational understanding of acoustic processes as information exchange, which he then complements with notions of electroacoustic design (2001). He emphasises the functional aspect of soundscapes as a system and the central role of human listening and participation in these systems.

The two fundamental criteria proposed by Truax, variety and coherence, not only reflect listening processes as previously described (see 2.3.6 Types of Listening), but they also inscribe themselves directly in an information-based framework. They are two necessary components of any well-functioning system of communication; they provide both a meaning (through coherence) and the possibility for the reception of that information, the “perception of a ‘difference’” (Truax, 2001, p. 110) through variety. These two criteria remain fundamental in dealing with any acoustic environment, not only as tools to assess a communicational process (Can you hear this sound? Does it make sense to you?), but also because they allow researchers to handle complex situations and diversified information through the use of general concepts (the sounds are assessed based primarily on their communicational value).

With electroacoustic technologies, however, systems of communication have been not only enhanced but also transformed; the ways in which sound behaves have been modified, and therefore require new criteria (Truax 2001). With electroacoustic design, for instance, “there are no natural well-designed models as there are in all acoustic systems” (p. 244). Also, according to Truax, the schizophonic properties of electroacoustic communication make it impossible to predict or control the space in which an electroacoustic sound is being heard. Schizophonic situations imply an inherent possibility of contradiction, therefore making a communicational system more “complicated” rather than more “complex”.

Most of Truax’s description and analysis of electroacoustic design focuses on the use of electronic tools and their influence on the process of composition, distribution and reception of information. The discussion is centered around “audio composition”, be it text-sound, electroacoustic music, soundscape composition or radio formats. This shifts the analysis from actual acoustic spaces to electronic ones, in which “one is designing both the sound and the sound structure” (2001, p. 247). Since our interest is in the description and analysis of actual acoustic locations or events, it seems necessary to complement this approach with an analysis of how electroacoustic tools may be used or integrated in the study and design of actual communities and spaces. In other words, the principles of electroacoustic design must eventually be combined with a broader social understanding of acoustic communication, since in the end, the process of listening cannot be isolated from a specific acoustic, social space. Instead of linking electroacoustic design to new possibilities offered by electroacoustic technologies, it needs to be related to the actual implications of these technologies in a community. Electroacoustic alternatives, for instance, have been described by Truax mostly in terms of the alternative uses of audio media and recording tools by composers; this could be extended to include the use of such technologies to assess the environment (the use of electronic mediation in the ‘qualified listening in motion method’, for instance [Tixier: 2002]), or even the various social uses of electroacoustic technology to modify one’s environment.

The tripartite model suggested by Amphoux (1991, 1993a) to describe the types of listening to the world has corresponding implications in terms of design and intervention. Each of the processes described in the E-M-P approach results in a specific type of management of the soundscape based on the perspective employed and the type of “noise” handled. All of these perspectives deal with specific dimensions of the acoustic experience, and must therefore be seen as complementary, parallel design approaches. The first type of intervention consists in a “diagnosis of the environment” (Hellström, 2003, p. 168) in which one wants to protect the sonic environment from noise as a measurable, objective phenomenon. While traditional noise studies approaches follow this first path in their legislative handling of noise, they often fail to also protect the acoustic quality of the environment, e.g. the preservation of soundmarks and of a human acoustic scale in public spaces (Amphoux, 1993a)—something that Schafer already brought forward in The Tuning of the World (1977c).

The second type of management involves a consolidation of the sonic milieu (Amphoux, 1993a), through the “regulation of social interactions” (p. 42; my translation) and the spreading of a sonic awareness that will provide listeners with the tools to manage their own soundscape—again, one of Schafer’s first claims, which he developed through music and sound education (1977c; 1988). The research led by CRESSON concerning neighbourhood noise complaints is a very rich example of this type of social approach to a lived, subjective experience (Amphoux & Leroux, 1989).

Finally, the third approach deals with the “creation of the landscape” (Hellström, 2003, p. 169), a creative intervention involving either in situ actions through the integration of acoustic design in urban disciplines, or an “in auditu” action (Amphoux, 1991, p. 246) whose objective is to “stimulate consciousness of the acoustic space, i.e. to develop a greater public awareness of urban sound recordings and of the richness of sound qualities” [emphasis his] (Hellström, 2003, p. 169).


Each of the above terms and concepts was designed to describe and analyse a particular aspect of the sound environment; together, they form a complex set of descriptors that can therefore interact even though their initial framework of application is different. The types of listening described by Truax (2001), for instance, analyse the actions of listening as an individual level of perception and intention; Amphoux (1991), on the other hand, provides a contrasting classification in which each type of listening expresses a different relationship to the sonic world, shaped not only by the individual level of attention but also by broader cultural, emotional or symbolic factors. In the same way, the notion of sound effect is based on the same triangular model as Truax’s acoustic communication model (sound as a mediator between a listener and an environment), but rather than emphasizing the contextual nature of acoustic exchanges, it tries to emphasize various patterns which correspond to observable effects.

These concepts are intimately linked to a particular methodological process based on their framing and representation of the sound environment. We must therefore present and discuss these methodologies, while always keeping in mind the contexts and aims of their creation and application. Since Truax’s communicational model does not prescribe a particular sets of tools and methods, the next section will focus on the methodologies used by the WSP in its various case studies and by Pascal Amphoux in his comparative study of three Swiss cities (1991, 1993a, 1993b).