Silberspur: Blog

Shut your eyes and see – Time and space in image and sound

With this article, I invite you to experience landscapes both visually and acoustically. My goal is to make the temporal and spatial dimensions of visual and audio media tangible and to promote a better understanding of them. Using examples that were recorded in both image and sound, I aim to make the differences between the two media tangible and experiential. (i)

Let's start with a walk on the beach and a look at world literature.

„Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in bodies. Then he was aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By knocking his sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, maestro di color che sanno. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it it is a gate, if not a door. Shut your eyes and see. Stephen closed his eyes to hear his boots crush crackling wrack and shells. You are walking through it howsomever. I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short times of space. Five, six: the Nacheinander. Exactly: and that is the ineluctable modality of the audible. Open your eyes. No. Jesus! If I fell over a cliff that beetles o’er his base, fell through the Nebeneinander ineluctably! I am getting on nicely in the dark. My ash sword hangs at my side. Tap with it: they do. My two feet in his boots are at the ends of his legs, nebeneinander. Sounds solid: made by the mallet of Los demiurgos. Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick. Wild sea money. Dominie Deasy kens them a’.

Won’t you come to Sandymount,
Madeline the mare?

Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. A catalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. No, agallop: deline the mare. Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. Basta! I will see if I can see. See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world without end.“

(James Joyce: „Ulysses“, Chapter 3) (i)

In this text, Joyce's protagonist Stephen Dedalus meditates on the nature of our perception and understanding. I chose it as an introduction because it – in my view – encourages reflection on the nature of our sensory experiences – and our thinking – in an incredibly enigmatic and beautiful way.

I can't provide an interpretation that would do justice to the numerous and profound connections that this text offers. (i)

In this text passage, Joyce refers to Aristotle’s theory of perception. What is particularly interesting is his juxtaposition of two forms of structuring or arrangements: „Nebeneinander“ (juxtaposition, side by side, or simultaneously) and „Nacheinander“ (sequentially or one after the other). Joyce uses the German terms in the English original text. He seems to be alluding to the distinction between fine art and poetry that Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729–1781) makes in his work Laocoon. (i)

Let’s explore how, in this text, the structuring modes of Nebeneinander and Nacheinander are linked to vision and hearing, shaping our perception of space and time:

Sense of sight (Nebeneinander): Our eyesperceive spatial information simultaneously – a picture or a scene is captured with a single glance.
Sense of hearing (Nacheinander): Our ears process sounds sequentially, through which melodies and language are perceived as a series of sound impulses.

This distinction is supported by the physiology of the sensory organs: while the eye captures different areas of the visual field simultaneously, the ear registers subtle temporal differences.

In this article, I would like to explore these seemingly obvious connections through a few examples. I will show a photo and a sound recording for different scenes captured at the same time. The sound recordings last several minutes. However, feel free not to listen to the full recordings, especially if you prefer to read the text first. If you wish, you can use the recordings – especially those with natural sounds – as an invitation to relax.

Optical and acoustic images

For many years, a camera has been my constant companion. In particular, I’m fascinated by landscape photography. Often, I focus on a specific region or type of landscape, capturing it at different times of the year or day. Sometimes, I already have an idea of the kind of image I’d like to create. In those cases, it’s simply a matter of planning accordingly and waiting for the right moment.

A recurring challenge: Often, the camera's field of view on-site is overloaded with too many elements. Especially with wide-angle lenses, finding a clear composition can be difficult. These lenses have a wide field of view, making it impossible to simply zoom in on or isolate a specific subject. Additionally, it’s not easy to blur distracting elements by adjusting a shallow depth of field.

Imagine a valley in the forest with a creek, surrounded by undergrowth, bushes, leaves, stones, and branches. It takes time and patience to bring order to the chaos of these many details by positioning the camera correctly and choosing the most suitable focal length. Sometimes, it takes hours until I finally capture an image I like.

This struggle for composition is, in a sense, the opposite of the famous „fear of the painter before the blank canvas“. While the painter must add something, the photographer tries to arrange what already exists. The mind is constantly focused on the composition and photographic technique in order to achieve a harmonious interplay of elements – an aesthetic Nebeneinander (juxtaposition) of things.

A few years ago, I then discovered sound recording for myself. (i)

Unlike photography, I never approach sound recording with a project-based mindset or aim for perfection. Instead, I tend to follow „my nose“ – or rather, my ear – and pause when I find myself, usually spontaneously and unplanned, in an interesting acoustic situation. For me, sound recording is a way to switch off and ground myself.

When I encounter a fascinating soundscape, I first consider whether a high-quality recording can be made. It’s especially important to pay attention to disturbing background noise, as it can significantly affect the atmosphere – a topic in itself.

Unfortunately, today it’s almost impossible to make a longer sound recording anywhere in Europe – or elsewhere – without the disruptive noises of our technological civilization. Motorized road traffic and airplanes are the „main culprits“. Even remote areas, such as mountain regions, are often affected. If an airplane flight path passes overhead, there is hardly any chance of unspoiled silence, as the loud engines of jet or propeller planes are often only a few kilometers away – especially if the plane is flying directly overhead. It often takes many minutes for the plane to disappear behind the acoustic horizon, as it cannot simply vanish behind an obstacle (e.g., a mountain range) and thereby be dampened.

Another major annoyance for anyone trying to record natural soundscapes is the loud noise from motorcycles and „car posers“ (individuals who may own flashy or high-performance cars primarily to impress others). Even from over ten kilometers away, the artificially amplified sound of a motorcycle can still be heard. (i)

Exciting acoustic backdrops greet me in the most diverse environments: In nature, it might be the gentle brushing of the wind over a wide field or the soothing babbling of a brook. In the city, on the other hand, a bustling marketplace unfolds its own sonic dynamics, characterized by the voices of people, the clattering of dishes, and the sounds of passing vehicles.

Once everything is in place, I put on the headphones, turn on the recording device, close my eyes—and I am in another world.

„Shut your eyes and see.“

Temporality and spatiality in image and sound

Our visual perception allows us to capture objects and events simultaneously in space. This creates a „Nebeneinander“ of impressions – similar to what is described in the text from Joyce's Ulysses. In contrast, our auditory perception is bound to a temporal sequence of sounds and noises – which, in turn, activates our imagination. While I can capture multiple elements with my eyes in a single glance, sounds and noises unfold Nacheinander, sequentially. (i)

Through the ear, we perceive space in a way that surpasses the intensity of what our eyes can achieve, despite their visual Nebeneinander. By capturing sounds from different directions simultaneously, an immediate and holistic spatial impression is formed. (i)

This fundamental difference between seeing and hearing decisively influences how we perceive our surroundings and process information.

„Nebeneinander“ and „Nacheinander“ at the beach

Let's look at an example. This time our journey does not take us to Sandymount Beach in Dublin, but to the beach of the Baltic Sea near Niendorf on the Brodtener Steilufer.

We first explore the scene visually, then acoustically.

The following photo was taken just before sunset with an exposure time of 1 second.

At the Baltic Sea beach during sunset, individual, sometimes large stones rise from the shallow water in the foreground. The incoming surf partially washes over them, making their wet surfaces shine brightly in the warm backlight. Due to the long exposure time, the water appears soft and blurred, giving the image a calm, almost meditative effect – despite the powerful movement of the waves. — Beach of the Baltic Sea near Niendorf on the Brodtener Steilufer.

Due to the long exposure time, the water, which shines in the light of the setting sun, is blurred by the movement of the waves, creating a painterly effect. The image appears relatively calm despite the dynamics of the scene and invites contemplation. The photo, however, captures only a „moment“. It depicts the Nebeneinander of the stones and rocks on the beach, washed over by the water, the approaching waves, and the sun disappearing just behind a bank of clouds on the horizon. (i)

To capture an additional dimension of this scene – temporal as well as spatial – close your eyes and listen to the sound recording.

The entire recording lasts 5 minutes and mainly consists of the steady, periodically modulated noise of the surf. Those who wish can use the recording as an invitation to relax – an acoustic window to the Baltic Sea coast.

Even a brief listen is enough to capture the rhythm of the waves: their powerful crash on the shore, the retreat, accompanied by the soft rustling of shifting sand and small pebbles, the thunderous sound of the still distant waves – a temporal sequence (Nacheinander). In stereo, however, another layer of perception unfolds: The sounds come from different directions, creating a depth that a static photo alone cannot convey. (i)

Let us explore what the sea looks like and how it sounds at different location. This time, I invite you to join me in Kerala, South India, on the coast of the Arabian Sea.

The following photo was taken in the afternoon during the monsoon season.

A dramatic beach scene on the coast of Kerala, South India. The sky is covered with dark clouds, adding a powerful and intense atmosphere to the scene. On the left, the roaring sea crashes with tall, white-capped waves onto the ochre-colored sandy beach, which stretches out toward the center. To the right, a dense palm forest is silhouetted in the twilight. In the distance, a group of people can be seen, some facing the sea. The waves rise so high in places that they tower over the people, highlighting the immense power of the ocean. — Beach of Kerala during the monsoon season.

This photo captures a tiny fraction of a second – according to the short exposure time of the camera. Yet as viewers, we capture the entire Nebeneinander in a single glance: the roaring surf with its dazzling white waves, the amazed group of people, the ochre-colored sand beach smoothed by the waves, and the tropical forest marking the boundary to the inland. The dark clouds give the scene a slightly ominous atmosphere, and one can sense how stormy it can become here.

But what does this scene sound like? Listen to the sounds of this place. (i)

Crickets chirping in the evening in the Alps

For another example, I would like to take you to a completely different place – the Italian Alps, specifically to the Passo di Croce Domini in Lombardy. It is an evening in August. The last cars and motorcycles have disappeared, and the streets are still.

The image shows a mountain landscape at twilight under a cloudy sky. The mountain ranges stretch across a valley, layering into the distance, gradually fading in the hazy evening light.

A mood-filled evening scene shows a deep blue mountain pass with a view into a vast valley. Several layered mountain ridges stretch into the distance, gradually fading in the misty evening light. Dark clouds hang above the scene, giving the landscape a mysterious and dramatic atmosphere. — Evening at Passo di Croce Domini, Italy.

But now I invite you to listen to this scene. In the recording, the sequence of the rhythmic rise and fall of the crickets’ chirping unfolds, accompanied by the distant sound of cowbells. At the same time, a sense of spatial depth is revealed: the crickets are very close, while the cows graze far down in the valley. It’s an acoustic experience that makes the vastness of this landscape feel particularly tangible. (i)

A valley awakens – sounds and sights of dawn

Let’s now go to another place, the Black Forest, and travel to a different season. I took the following photo in the spring, before sunrise, near Gaggenau.

A mysterious, blue-drenched dawn scene in the dense underbrush of a nature reserve. The wide-angle shot places you in the midst of a tangled thicket of thin, sparsely leafed, moss-covered branches and small bushes. The forest floor is covered with fallen branches and partially moss-covered tree trunks, while the moss gently glows in the weak light of dawn. The scene feels enchanted and almost surreal—surrounded by brush and twigs, the sky remains hidden, creating an intense sense of being enclosed. — In the underbrush of the Traischbach Valley in the Northern Black Forest near Gaggenau.

I used a wide-angle lens and ventured into the underbrush of a valley. Here, too, the image captures a moment. The dense thicket with its branches may convey a sense of spatial depth, almost as if you were standing in this place, right in the midst of the small trees and bushes. However, a completely different impression of this place unfolds only when you listen to the scene.

And especially here, time is needed if you want to experience the recording in its full length: it lasts nearly an hour. (i)

You hear how the birdsong slowly begins – still in the darkness, of course, which you can't „see“ on the recording – and gradually changes as more and more bird species awaken and join in the chorus. Ornithologists could even use this acoustic sequence to set their clocks – a principle known as the bird clock. (i)

The audio recording places you right in the middle of the layered soundscape created by the complex social structures and communication networks of the birds. At the same time, it conveys an immediate sense of the passage of time through the sequence of birdsong. One could trace the progression of dawn solely by the singing. This represents a fundamental difference from the previous examples: while the crashing of the sea and the chirping of crickets are marked by recurring, periodic patterns, here we have a linear, temporal development – an acoustic representation of the awakening morning. This dimension of time is completely absent in the image. (i)

Urban soundscapes

I would like to conclude this small exercise with the soundscape of a city. Let’s visit Brescia, a city in Lombardy, northern Italy.

It’s a late summer afternoon. We stroll through the streets of the old town while I carefully hold the microphone in my hand, balancing it to avoid any unwanted noise from vibrations.

A cobblestone street in a historic old town leading into the low afternoon sun. The sun shines directly into the scene, making the cobblestones gleam. In the backlight, the dark silhouettes of a few pedestrians are visible, walking away from the camera. Further ahead, a table is set up on the street, belonging to a café – two people are sitting there, bathed in the warm light of the sun. — In the old town of Brescia, Lombardy, Italy.

The photo captures a moment of our walk: people walking into the warm evening light, their dark silhouettes and long shadows on the cobblestones.

Join me now on this walk and listen to how the old town sounds to a walker.

As with the previous recording of the bird concert, here too, you can perceive a temporal development of the events. At the same time, a spatial depth is created – through sounds coming from different directions, moving closer and then fading away. There is an even stronger dynamic in the sound sequence because I am also moving with the microphone. (i)

Conclusion

I hope to have shown that visual and auditory media (here limited to photography and sound recordings) can convey very different experiences of time and space. A visual and an auditory recording of the same place at the same time can represent entirely different realities. The accompanying text can help bridge both dimensions.

Being aware of this, in my opinion, is crucial for understanding how diverse the experience of the world can be, depending on individual perception. (i)

×(i) There:

„Physical beauty results from the harmonious action of various parts which can be taken in at a glance. It therefore requires that these parts should lie near together; and, since things whose parts lie near together are the proper subjects of painting, this art and this alone can imitate physical beauty.

The poet, who must necessarily detail in succession the elements of beauty, should therefore desist entirely from the description of physical beauty as such. He must feel that these elements arranged in a series cannot possibly produce the same effect as in juxtaposition; that the concentrating glance which we try to cast back over them immediately after their enumeration, gives us no harmonious picture; and that to conceive the effect of certain eyes, a certain mouth and nose taken together, unless we can recall a similar combination of such parts in nature or art, surpasses the power of human imagination.“

(Gotthold Ephraim Lessing: Laokoon, chapter 20, The Project Gutenberg eBook of Laocoon)

In German:

„Körperliche Schönheit entspringt aus der übereinstimmenden Wirkung mannigfaltiger Teile, die sich auf einmal übersehen lassen. Sie erfordert also, daß diese Teile nebeneinander liegen müssen; und da Dinge, deren Teile nebeneinander liegen, der eigentliche Gegenstand der Malerei sind; so kann sie, und nur sie allein, körperliche Schönheit nachahmen.

Der Dichter, der die Elemente der Schönheit nur nacheinander zeigen könnte, enthält sich daher der Schilderung körperlicher Schönheit, als Schönheit, gänzlich. Er fühlt es, daß diese Elemente, nacheinander geordnet, unmöglich die Wirkung haben können, die sie, nebeneinander geordnet, haben; daß der konzentrierende Blick, den wir nach ihrer Enumeration auf sie zugleich zurücksenden wollen, uns doch kein übereinstimmendes Bild gewähret; daß es über die menschliche Einbildung gehet, sich vorzustellen, was dieser Mund, und diese Nase, und diese Augen zusammen für einen Effekt haben, wenn man sich nicht aus der Natur oder Kunst einer ähnlichen Komposition solcher Teile erinnern kann.“

(Gotthold Ephraim Lessing: Laokoon, Kapitel 20, Projekt Gutenberg)

In Laokoon, Lessing emphasizes that visual art can better depict physical beauty because it presents all elements simultaneously – „nebeneinander“. Poetry, on the other hand, can only describe it sequentially, „nacheinander“, which may diminish its effect. However, while poetry is limited in this regard, its strength lies in its ability to portray movement, action, and the passage of time. Furthermore, poetry requires more imagination from the audience, as words only create inner images.

Precisely because it is not bound by the limits of visible space, Lessing considers poetry to be more comprehensive. It can convey not only emotions and abstract ideas but also complex relationships – something that visual art can only do to a limited extent.

×(i) Although processing sound and interpreting it in our brain must be an enormous task, acoustic perception allows for excellent spatial orientation. As Ed Yong writes on page 213 of An Immense World:

„We localize sound without consciously thinking about it, which conceals how hard that task actually is. An eye comes with an inbuilt sense of space, because light from different parts of the world falls on different parts of the retina. But ears are set up to capture qualities like frequency and loudness that have no intrinsic special component. For an animal to take that information and turn it into a map of the world, its brain has to work really hard.“

(Ed Yong: An Immense World, Vintage Penguin Random House, 2023)

Acoustic spatial perception allows humans to recognize spaces based solely on their specific sound signatures – even with their eyes closed. Spatial hearing plays a central role in daily life, aiding in the navigation of the environment. Additionally, humans (with proper training) can orient themselves through reflected sound waves in a manner similar to bats, further developing this ability over time – a method known as echolocation (more on that below).

In the notes accompanying this text, I will frequently refer to the book An Immense World by science journalist Ed Yong. This work is an exceptionally rich source of information about the diversity of senses in the animal kingdom – and is far more than just a treatise on vision and hearing.

While I focus on vision and hearing in this article, Yong addresses a broad range of stimuli and forms of perception that exist in the animal world. These include electric and magnetic fields, as well as fine vibrations in the air and ground that certain species can perceive.

Yong impressively shows how closely the ability to perceive specific stimuli is linked to the “mental images” of the environment that animals create for themselves. To provide a few examples beyond vision and hearing: Spiders primarily orient themselves using vibrations in their webs, while the visual and acoustic spaces accessible to other animals remain largely unavailable to them. Certain species of fish, known as electric fish, can perceive and generate electric fields to navigate and track other organisms. However, once they emit their electric discharges, they can no longer hide their presence from other members of their species.

How differently must the world appear to such animals – compared to beings that primarily rely on sight and hearing? In the chapter on electric fields, Yong speculates on how the social lives of these fascinating creatures might be shaped (Ed Yong: An Immense World, p. 289):

„I wonder what a social life governed by electric signals must be like. These animals can’t hide from each other. In setting off their electric discharges to sense their environment, they unavoidably announce their presence and identities to any other electric fish within range. A river full of electric fish must be like a cocktail party where no one ever shuts up, even when their mouths are full.”