From my room I can hear foghorns and cablecars. The technologies that produce these sounds are no longer needed. But we still keep these sounds around because we would miss them. The identity of the city would feel different without these audible symbols. I have been thinking a lot about the soundscapes of cities lately. How they are as recognizable and changing as the landscape.
For my next historical dinner I am going to recreate the soundscape of the location. I am creating a logging camp dinner 4 hours north of San Francisco in a clearcut redwood forrest. It will be a temporal soundscape, transitioning from day into night. I will have to heavily research the sounds that could be heard in the logger's daily routine. As well as the natural history of the area. The forrest would have served as a habitat to many species that are no longer there. Wind makes a different sound blowing through a tree canopy than through open space. The train that carried wood to San Francisco would have been an important daily symbol and I am sure I can still find the schedule. The dinner bell must have marked the passing of the day and would have been a joyous sound to hear.
I originally thought I would compose a 12-hour soundscape representing an entire day in real time. An interesting experiment would be to speed up time and have an entire workday elapse over three hours. I could serve full meals in quick succession or have three courses symbolizing breakfast, lunch and dinner. With a different bell ringing in between the courses.