When I write that a sound is more delicate than a theoretical concept, I mean that it contains information about the surroundings in which it exists, and it can’t really be considered without all that information. The sound of a handclap activates the space around it, making its resonant and reverberant potential reveal itself — it doesn’t really exist without the space around it.
There are ways to manipulate or suppress the acoustic properties of a room by using complex materials or architectural designs. A fully treated, non-echoic chamber will feel extremely strange for most people because non-echoic spaces hardly ever occur in the natural world. A highly reverberating and echoing space, on the other hand, can strike us with awe and inspire us with complex, even religious experiences. Next to a large echoing structure we can feel the presence of something larger than us.
Echo and reverb both locate the listener in time and space. By changing the acoustic properties of a space, we can introduce various effects to the mind. The development of experimental sound design methods during the last century has allowed artists to express themselves not only through their instruments but also through virtual spatial effects, such as reverb and delay.
As a musician, I know that reverbs and delays can introduce an exciting dimension to any sound. They add texture, create rhythmic effects, and most importantly — a sense of instruments and sounds being somewhere, in relation to us.
The composer Edgar Varèse wrote in 1936, “When new instruments will allow me to write music as I conceive it, taking the place of the linear counterpoint, the movement of sound masses, of shifting planes, will be clearly perceived.”
Varèse dreamt of artistic expression, but I believe he wanted to express a certain aspect of being in the spatiotemporal world. We now have the tools to create and recreate imaginary echoes and reverbs at will.
