I watched Lawrence of Arabia yesterday. A great deal has been said about this film, most of it by men and women in possession of far keener cinematic minds than mine, and so I refrain from any direct commentary.
I was struck, however, by the manner in which the film’s score was able to conjure the desolate dunes of the Arabian peninsula. The bombastic orchestral pieces were, for me, strong auditory cues shaping the desert geography in my mind, even during director David Lean’s non-visual introduction, entr’acte, and exit.
As I thought about this I came up with two theories, which do not preclude one another, to explain this audial geopositioning.
- Cultural induction.
- Auditory geographic cueing.
1. Cultural Induction:
What I mean here is that, in general, we are exposed to auditory patterns coincident with visual (or other) cues that are strongly tied to a particular landscape, geography, or population. For me, in the case of Lawrence, this induction is two fold. First—and most easily explained—the film is not only a classic, it is a definitive moment in the culture of film. Its effects are—rightly—widespread and have infiltrated our worldview on many levels. This is as true of the dramatic score as it is of the cinematic techniques so lauded by Speilberg.
From the Simpsons to James Bond, the score has been used in ways too variegated and numerous to track. The one unifying element in this diaspora is that pieces of the score are always used to enhance the visual stimulus of a desert scene.
It’s easy to argue therefore that, by the repetitive nature of its use in all manner of desert scenes, the score has become inseparably tied to the visual idea of a desert in my consciousness, and I would argue in most of American and English society as well. I had never seen Lawrence of Arabia before last night, yet it’s score, for me, was the desert—even more that David Lean’s visuals.
An important note about this idea of cultural induction is that it can be made to work independently of any inherent existence of auditory geographic cues.
2. Auditory Geographic Cueing:
My second theory is much more provisional and lacks direct evidence. I have little faith in it, but it did strike me as a possibility. It may be that there are some sound wave patterns that are naturally interpreted as the brain into some very general geographic information, or at least a stimulus representing geographic information.
Let me ask this question: how is it that composers are able to orchestrate music to represent geographical and social details to themselves? The goal of the composer is to transform his thoughts and emotions on something into an organized sonic front. It has always seemed to me that great composers are able to communicate through their works, bringing listeners with them and “showing” them a place by the careful (or careless) use of notes, space, instrumentation etc.
This is most likely an artifact of my first answer, and the gross similarities many of us share in our cultural conditioning, but I thought it worth noting this second theory. It is unlikely to be the case, but it is interesting, even so, in highlighting the penetrance of cultural induction.
To make us feel and believe ourselves somewhere through the power of music is not some gewgaw to be cast about.
