The Predator Ear

INWARD SOUND | 3.15.21

In my latest article for the New York Times I write about a competition for new musical instruments. I caught up with some of the finalists, among them a Turkish guitarist who invented a microtonal Lego fretboard, the Icelandic creator of a monolithic electromagnetic harp, and an improvising cellist, whose envy of the chordal possibilities of the piano led to the invention of a flexible pitch keyboard that can slide like a cello.

But the creation that really grabbed my attention was an instrument that makes no sound at all. Instead, the wonky constructions that Steve Parker calls War Tubas play with listening itself. They’re made of parts of marching band instruments and coiled copper tubing; some are wearable, others are fixed in space so that listeners have to walk up and lean in.

The flared bells of these instruments pick out and amplify sounds in weird ways. Listening with these prosthetics distorts a listener’s perception. How we make sense of sound is determined by the shape of our ears. Change that shape and you change what you hear.

With the name "War Tuba” Steve alludes to the WWI military listening devices that were used to detect incoming enemy aircraft before the invention of radar. These sound locators often looked like gigantic brass instruments with their bells turned skyward. Steve’s instruments reference other aggressive forms of listening — like espionage and surveillance — to draw attention to the power of sound.

Steve’s work put me in mind of a new term I just learned, which struck me because it so neatly embodies the opposite of Beginner’s Ear: predatory listening. The meditation teacher Oren Jay Sofer used the term in a newsletter for the (really wonderful) Ten Percent Happier app.

Oren defines defines it as

listening with a narrow focus to find fault or confront someone; lying in wait for something to be offended by; deliberately trying to catch someone out; or listening only to gather evidence for a rebuttal.

Stumbling into a conversation with such a listener, Oren writes, can feel “like stepping on the wrong end of a rake.” My guess is we all know the feeling.

According to Oren the best response is kindness. Instead of locking horns, he suggests drawing out the other person on what lies underneath their aggressive stance.

You might even ask them directly what they want. I might say something like, “I get the sense that you’ve thought a lot about this and have some very clear views. What is it you’d like me to know or understand? Do you have a sense of what you’d like right now?” Or, “What can I do that would help right now?” Sometimes, a direct, honest question can shatter the pretense of debate, reveal what’s happening, and either end the conversation or open space for new possibilities.

It’s also possible to turn a predatory ear to music. In symphonic concerts, the mere sight of a piece of contemporary music can sour some people’s listening. “Let’s see what modern crap is being foisted on us today!”

Or witness comedian Bill Burr yesterday at the Grammys, where — devoted metalhead that he his — he had been tapped to present the winners in several classical categories. Stepping out after Igor Levit’s milky, melancholic performance of Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata his first words were: "Was I the only one that wanted to kill himself during that piano solo?”

I guess the kind response is to feel sympathy for a comedian who has to follow Beethoven. The whole framework of a live awards show is a bit like one of those gangly war tubas that twist and train the ear only on the next gag. Cultivating a more generous ear on the world also requires some kindness directed within, letting go of the need to be clever or right.

SIT WITH ME 

For the remainder of the month of March I am leading a free 15-minute guided meditation every weekday live at 8.30 am EST. This Zoom link is good for all sessions: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/81435700446?pwd=U0xqc0J0VDJtZSs4c3dXT2VZaTFQQT09 No experience required, just a comfortable spot to sit free of distractions.

Corinna

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Liberating Sound