3: A Lynchian Approach to Sound Affect
Our proposed design approach is rooted in some of the fundamental elements of what could be described as "Lynchian" techniques. This focuses on primarily sonic techniques which appear throughout Lynch’s filmography. Namely, his use of abstracted and repurposed audio, psychoacoustical audio phenomena, and intentional displacement of sound sources. In our Sonic Aberrations approach, sound can be used in ways to intentionally create a discomforting or surrealistically offset experience, allowing for the process and design methodology to exist in a liminal space between unsettling and suggestive. We will discuss some of these sonic hallmarks of Lynch’s work, propose some potential use cases, and touch on the ethical and practical concerns that surely arise from this approach.
3.1 Building a Sonic Language
In his early work as a painter, Lynch has discussed his desire to hear sound with his work [5]. Sounds such as the wind and the clanking of factory machinery, in many ways tied to his upbringing in middle-America, were missing from his works. This would lead him to create what he saw as moving paintings. This multi-modal approach to visual art is central to much of Lynch’s aesthetic. The combined use of stimuli which become greater than the sum of their parts. Several of Lynch’s sonic hallmarks have directly inspired our proposed design approach. While the breadth of talking points surrounding Lynch’s work is far more than we could possibly tackle in this single paper, we will instead focus on three prominent sonic characteristics which are found in much of Lynch’s output. These include:
Background Noises and Textures
Repetition as Affect
Disassociated Sound Objects
These three points can be found in nearly all of Lynch’s films and often serve as a driving force in the narrative and emotional arcs of his stories. These three main discussion points form the core of our proposed Sonic Aberrations approach due to their flexiblity in application, effectiveness in changing the experience, and wide range in aesthetic integration.
3.1.1 Background Noise and Textures.
One of the most frequently occurring sonic motifs that is common in much of Lynch’s work is the use of background sound not as some imperceptible aspect but as something that is unusually in the foreground. One of the most prime examples of this is in his seminal work Eraserhead. Released in 1977, Eraserhead serves as Lynch’s first feature-length film and set the tone for his subsequent filmography. Many of the classic "Lynch-esque" hallmarks are found in this: constant and unusually present background "noise", abstract dreamlike dialogue, unsettling imagery such as the "baby", and musical numbers which call to mind a forgotten past which never existed. For example, in the film’s 89 minute runtime, there is never any moment in which he gives the viewer any true silence or pause. From the moment the title screen appears until the moment the film reaches its final conclusion, there are a multitude of background sounds of industrial machinery, overblown speakers, and undulating ambient noise layers which envelop the overall viewing experience. This immersive approach to heightened aural ambience is used in much of Lynch’s filmography. These layers of background noise vary from film to film, but some commonly utilized ones include static, industrial noises, and what is perceived as amplified room noise. Whether it is the sound of ceiling lights, air conditioning units, or noises of indiscernible origin, these sounds are featured prominently. Often times, they are presented in ways which seem counter to what we typically experience in our daily lives. Imagine you are sitting in your bedroom, and the sounds you hear from the lights, air conditioner, fan, or any other appliance were turned up by 40%. These are sonic applications which could be considered as Lynch-esque.
This approach also presents a mild conundrum frequent in Lynch’s output, which is the lack of distinction between foley sound, background ambience, and musical score. Created in collaboration with Alan R. Splet, the entirety of the sonic profile for this film exists somewhere within a mixture of the three, with none of these three audio layers seeming to have any sort of hierarchical superiority. The sounds all meld together into a cacophony of "lo-fi" ambience, blanketing the film in a constant and subtly morphing aural journey. While this film was shot long before digital recording methods were abundant, it would be erroneous to posit that the perceptually "lo-fi" sound was something which was simply unavoidable. As seen in his later films in which higher fidelity was easily available, this aurally-desecrated approach would become something which Lynch uses to his great advantage. Instead of giving the viewer a pristine sonic experience, the sound is treated much in the way that the other modalities of his work are approached: as a sort of flawed recollection or half-remembered dream, one in which the core meaning is given through a fogged lens, allowing the viewer to flow through this dream-state to discover their own unique perspective. It is in this dreamlike journey that much of the beauty (and ugliness) of Lynch’s work shines through the most. When things seem to be beautiful, their true ugliness comes through the cracks. When their seeming ugliness is readily apparent, the beauty of these flawed or unsettling things can work their way through the cracks. Nothing is wholly dark or light, nothing is wholly pleasant or unpleasant, nothing is clear nor clouded. Everything is part of everything else, fragments of a half-remembered dream which is being pieced together in real-time.
3.1.2 Repetition as Affect.
The use of repetitive sonic and visual motifs are found very effectively in the television series Twin Peaks. For instance, the main theme of the series, aptly titled "Twin Peaks Theme", was composed by Angelo Badalamenti and David Lynch, and is a soothing musical number featuring a straight-forward I-vi chord progression on a baritone guitar and synthesizers. This repetitive theme is heard numerous times throughout the entire series. While the use of repetitive musical themes is certainly nothing new, it is the persistent use of this theme in scenes ranging from loving scenes to outright unnerving situations that sets it apart. The beginning plucks of the baritone guitar and warm Rhodes-emulating synthesizer have become somewhat iconic for their connection to this unusual world which Lynch and co-creator Mark Frost created. The same repetition can be seen in "Laura Palmer’s Theme". In this theme, which is at first attached to the moments surrounding Laura Palmer’s murder, is used throughout to elicit a sense of dread or unease, yet the theme itself shifts between brooding minor suspensions and hopeful extended harmonies. In a sense, this theme, which is in many ways connected to the core mystery of the series, encapsulates the musical approach to Twin Peaks: using minimal sonic cues in repetition to the point of desensitizing the viewer to their existence, thereby allowing for them to be moved more subtly by the affect of these tonalities and timbres.
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3.1.3 Disassociated Sound Objects.
The use of abstract or disassociated sound cues attached to characters or events is another prominent use of sound affect in the works of Lynch. This approach can be seen as a sort of extension of the background noise approach discussed previously, but in a much more direct and, in a very Lynch way, narrative manner. Sounds become more about the affect than about the direct story they are conveying. One such example of this is seen in the third season of Twin Peaks, better known as Twin Peaks: The Return. Airing more than two decades after the conclusion of the first run of two seasons, this continuation sees Lynch returning to the world of Twin Peaks in many new and boundary-pushing ways. In the first episode, two sonic cues are utilized by Lynch which are frequently found in his works: voice/dialogue manipulation and abstract sound design. The episode begins where the first series left off, with Agent Cooper in the Red Room with Laura Palmer. When she speaks to him in the Red Room, her voice was recorded with the actress speaking the lines in reverse, and then reversed again, producing a surreal version of discernible speech. This method is used repeatedly by Lynch, especially in this Red Room and other spaces which are meant to be felt as some place besides our own existence. It is a clever and effective way to add a specific feeling to these spaces, further emphasized by the fact that Agent Cooper still speaks normally in these spaces. After the opening credits scene, we are taken to a black and white place where Agent Cooper is sitting with The Fireman (known in the original run as The Giant). Much like in the Red Room, The Fireman is speaking in a reversed-reverse dialogue, and speaks in cryptic ways.
"Agent Cooper...listen to the sounds."
The sounds which The Fireman are referring to are what could be described as a mixture of an insect and some kind of rough material being scratched slowly, seemingly coming from an old phonograph. The true source and origin of these sounds is not revealed until many hours later in the series, but this abstracted way of using sonic identifiers with objects and/or characters is often found in Lynch’s work. It allows the affect of these sounds to come through due to the fact that they are not simply emphasizing what we already know or what we would normally identify as the "proper" sound, but instead are allowing us to further suspend disbelief for a moment and sink into the surrealism of his worlds.
