Sound : a Phenomenology of Aural Architecture

Abstract

I have a natural tendency to see sound. I was born profoundly deaf and grew up with hearing aids. I was enrolled at an oral deaf program, learning how to hear and speak. This learning process continued until the fourth grade when I received a cochlear implant. A device was installed with its tail wire cord invigorating the damaged hair cells inside the cochlea. The device was implanted beneath the skin, near my left ear. Outside of the skin, a processor was magnetically snapped to this device. Upon activation, any noise would transmit to the processor’s microphone. The processor then carries the data through my skin to the implanted device, continuing its way through the wire to the cochlea. It then electrifies the damaged hair cells to transmit information to the brain. Feeling like a half-bionic man, the cochlear implant technology magically transformed my journey to the physical world of sound. The cochlear implant is superior to hearing aids because of its receivable depth and clarity. A cochlear implant is equivalent to having nearsighted eyes supported with prescription glasses or having an amputated leg replaced with a prosthetic leg. However, a cochlear implant is a neurological support; the same as if nearsighted eyes were surgically operated on to have normal vision. A cochlear implant can be controlled to transport from silence to various levels of auditory stimulation. Many cochlear implant recipients do not wear the processor while sleeping or showering and can turn it off in an unpleasant noise environment. After graduating from an oral deaf program, I was “mainstreamed” to a private middle school. I was the only hearing impaired student and had a consultant to continue my speech development. This continued when I became a student at a private high school. I become a visual learner and developed as a lip reader. I had a difficult time maintaining friendships and conversations because of my unordinary speech. Although I was shy, I had artistic abilities to support my individuality. Growing up, I enjoyed drawing, painting, building LEGO sets, and a variety of crafts. I do not remember sounds as part of my youth while enjoying these activities. I remember watching many Disney and Nickelodeon cartoon shows without the awareness of sound. I would only watch the characters’ uncanny and witty expressions that left me laughing. When I was old enough to read, I had a closed captioning device hooked up to the television so I could understand what the characters were saying. Closed captioning for television programs and movies became a legal requirement as technology improved the accessibility for the deaf. Between middle and high school I began to read lips on live action television shows to improve my pronunciation of words and phrases. During college, I had access to computers with “speaking” options. At this point I no longer had a speech consultant that would read stories out loud or listen to words to continue my speech development. My speech was improving and I was speaking more accentually. Occasionally, my use of words would be questioned by others. The cochlear implant, as currently developed, cannot distinguish noise coming from one place and is heard by the user as scattered data. It is difficult to distinguish who is speaking or to focus on a specific sound source. A noisy restaurant is always a challenge for a cochlear implant recipient. One must use lip-reading while blocking out irrelevant noises. The cochlear implant has yet to be developed to mimic normal hearing; nevertheless it has exceeded expectations since the first clinical implant in 1957. Technology is appreciated by recipients as an aid to learning both how to hear and speak. Having the ability to travel to both physical worlds of sound, i.e. deaf and non-deaf, it brought to me a new perception of architecture. I can perceive how architecture is celebrated with and without auditory. This rare cognitive ability gave me a chance to advocate the awareness of acoustic design and aural architecture. Phenomenologically, I can visualize a space, open or occupied, in detail. I enjoy experiencing space pensively in silence, yet find some places unpleasant when the physiological of hearing is activated. As a deaf person, I am inspired to investigate how sound can be aesthetically influenced and relevant in architecture.