This book evolved from a workshop on archaeoacoustics held at Cambridge University by the McDonald Institute in June, 2003. The Preface states that the book is intended to give archaeoacoustics “the prominence in archaeology that it most certainly deserves.” As an avocational archaeo-acoustician, I warmly endorse that purpose.
Thirteen practitioners of archaeoacoustics contribute 12 chapters spanning a broad range of subjects that include: the history and prehistory of human awareness of sound, the creation of sound instruments, and, most interesting to me, the acoustics of built and unbuilt spaces, and soundscape.
Archaeology seems to be undergoing another paradigm shift. Supposedly the shift is not just about sound. The aim is a sensual archaeology that includes “touch, smell, and hearing.” At this time, however, archaeoacoustics seems to be generating the most excitement.
The evidence for prehistoric human sound awareness discussed in this book is no surprise. Other animals are highly sound aware. Would we expect less for humans? More intriguing is the evidence for deliberate manipulation of sound, not only by ancient humans, but possibly even by Neanderthals. Some evidence suggests that by the late Paleolithic, humans were conferring unique acoustic properties to fabricated sound instruments and marking resonant niches in caves. There is also evidence that Neolithic people built unique acoustic features into the architecture of temples and burial chambers, although it remains to be proven that these features were intended. The vexing question of intentionality is the common theme connecting these chapters.
Francesco d’Errico and Graeme Lawson devote their chapter to the question of intentionality in considering Paleolithic and Medieval bone pipes, flutes, and tuning pegs. Ezra B. W. Zubrow and E. C. Blake discuss the Mousterian bone flute dated 43,000 years before the present (BP) in their chapter on the Origins of Music and Rhythm. Were those almost perfectly conical holes fabricated for their sound by humans? Or are they bite marks of a cave bear with exceptional orthodontia? Or are they taphonomical effects (changes after death from a variety of causes).
Graeme Lawson devotes most of his chapter to the acoustic features of medieval stone buildings, and of earlier medieval timber halls. He believes they may have been intended for playing the lyre.
Several chapters are devoted to music archaeology—a field recognized by archaeologists even before the aforementioned paradigm shift. Peter Holmes considers sound intentionality in Scandinavian lurs of the late bronze age. Their sounds critically depend on instrument morphology, and especially on the conicity of their brass tubes. A study opportunity arose because these lip reed instruments are often made in left-right pairs by the same makers using the same tools and methods. It was hoped that comparing their sounds might reveal the acoustical intentions of their makers. It did not reveal intentions, but did provide strong, if unsurprising, hints. Holmes found that each instrument closely mirrored its mate in morphology and sound. He also found that lurs were fabricated so that “a player can sound a series of notes that accurately conform to the harmonic series of notes.” Clearly, that would serve musical purposes in “the modern western sense.” But Holmes concludes that he can only assume, does not know, if that was the fabricator's intention.
The acoustics of Paleolithic cave art and rock art are prominent in this book. A chapter is contributed by Iegor Resnikoff, perhaps the preeminent pioneer of archaeoacoustics, on the evidence for human use of sound resonance from Paleolithic to Medieval times. Resnikoff writes from the perspective of music and architectural history more than physics. His 1987 study found relationships between sound and art in Paleolithic caves. It attracted little interest at first, perhaps because it was published in a relatively obscure journal. This changed dramatically when Chris Scarre reviewed Resnikoff and M. Dauvois’ work in a higher profile journal (“Painting by Resonance,” [Nature, 338, 1989, 382]). The review conveyed an image of painted caves as Paleolithic cathedrals in which cave artists chanted incantations before cave art, and where rituals of dance, song, drums, flutes, and whistles were conducted in flickering torchlight.
Paul Devereux is the author of the first-ever book on archaeoacoustics (“Stone Age Soundtracks,” 2001). His chapter reports my early findings at Chichen Itza in Mexico. He also reports discoveries at other archaeological sites, including the Treasury of Atreus in Mycenae, and Ireland's Newgrange, as well as the Wayland Smithy passage grave in England and a Neolithic chambered tomb in Cornwall. Devereux sought evidence of intentionality by comparing the acoustic resonance frequencies of chambers with brain response to tones (e.g., ) and with the formant frequencies of the male voice. Devereux seems more open to belief in the influence of acoustical design on hallucinatory experience than some other contributors.
A chapter by British acoustician Aaron Watson reports sound measurements at high profile Neolithic monuments, including Stonehenge and Maeshowe. Watson shows his acoustical training explicitly as co-author (with Ian Cross) of another chapter on “socially organized sound.” It describes conventional architectural acoustic measurement methodologies, and rightly questions their applicability to societies with different esthetics. The reports of methodical sound measurements at Stonehenge are interesting, but inconclusive, in part because so little is known about the culture. The effects may be chance. Still it is argued, sonic effects may have been noticed by users and incorporated into rites there. But we are given little evidence for that. What seems more promising are reports of eerie acoustic effects at other sites. We might not think to listen for these effects because of our western bias. Watson’s ideas about flutter echoes parallel my own, but I think he has not yet found an ancient site where they might be important.
Rock art acoustics is ably represented in this book by Steven J. Waller, probably its preeminent practitioner. Like Resnikoff, Waller believes that sound was a motivator for the placement of cave art. He also believes that echoes motivated the placement of some outdoor rock art and in some cases, the art itself. He has tirelessly collected ethnographic field reports and studies of rock art acoustics. He documents an impressive number of echo myths of tribes and civilizations throughout the world and human history. Those myths reveal a long history of human interest in sound that seems deeply embedded in the human psyche. If that history has become unintelligible to us, it is because of noise and the learned disregard for sound that chronic noise engenders. If that is true, noise pollution may have another adverse effect. It may be cutting humans off from their ancient sonic heritage, just as smoke and light pollution renders the once-impressive night sky almost meaningless to moderns. Many rock art experts promote rock art conservation, but Waller encourages preservation of the soundscape at these sites.
Ethnographic studies of sound appear in other chapters as well. Ian Morley considers hunter-gatherer music among Native Americans, African Pigmies, Australian Aborigines, and Eskimos, drawing implications about their uses of acoustic space. Ezra Zubrow and Elizabeth Blake explore the origin of music and rhythm, suggesting that rhythm originated with the heartbeats of flint knappers.
At several places in this book we encounter sacred sites and other ancient spaces that possess compelling acoustic qualities. Is it a coincidence or a clue that both ancient temples and modern worship spaces often have special acoustics? Many people (including me) believe there are deep connections between sound, magic, and numinous experience. Individuals who report visions or supernatural experiences find they are often mediated by unusual sound qualities of the space. For that reason, archaeoacoustics often crosses over to the study of religious experience.