Human Voice – A Delicate Creature of the Sonic Environment

Text: Anne Tarvainen

On Thursday, February 6th, I recorded my walk from our stay at Gamla Vägen to Skruv’s main street, Storgatan, continuing to the village center, where the local grocery store and the old station house are located.

The rustic soundscape of Gamla Vägen, filled with birdsong and the crowing of roosters, soon gave way to human-made sounds as I reached Storgatan.

At the intersection of Västra Vägen and Storgatan, about 50 meters away, I noticed two women engaged in conversation. One was walking her dog, and they had paused to chat. As I crossed the intersection, they seemed to notice my headphones and recording equipment, and their conversation momentarily fell silent. Once I had passed, I heard them laugh softly.

In the field, human voices appear to be particularly sensitive to the presence of a researcher—more so than most other environmental sounds. People often modify their vocal expressions when they notice a recording device, speaking differently or even falling silent as an unfamiliar observer enters the scene.

A researcher is never truly an outsider, especially in the field, yet to the villagers, someone walking around with recording equipment is certainly more of a stranger than a regular guest or tourist.

Unlike human voices, the sound of footsteps is not deliberately avoided in recording situations. Footsteps are anonymous, blending seamlessly into the soundscape, while a voice—whether in speech, laughter, or a sudden exclamation—carries personality and identity. A voice is not only a sonic presence but also a recognisable, intimate trace of the person behind it.