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Introduction: Sound and Silences: Writing the History of Sound Craft in Hollywoodâs Studio Era
They can make or break a picture, yet they seldom rate more than a passing nod. Theyâre the forgotten men of an industry that forgets easily. Thatâs the technical mob, those worthies who struggle with gadgets and can turn up with anything that is humanly possible of contrivance. Remuneration for their work is manifested at the pay window and an occasional credit mention on the subtitle frame for a quick and unimportant flash of recognition which the public seldom reads, cares less and gets impatient to get over with.
âHollywoodâs Unsung Heroesâ, Variety Anniversary Edition, Wednesday 6 January 1937, p. 46
The technical crafts of sound in the classical Hollywood cinema have, until recently, been largely âunsungâ in the histories of the studio era. Since the transition to sound by Hollywoodâs major studios, broadly completed by 1929, film sound, in its entire array (voice, music, sound effects), has been a crucial aspect of film style, and key to engaging and holding audiences. In the classical Hollywood sound film, sounds emphasise visual action, underline character, enhance settings and develop mood and ambience in a myriad of inventive and affective ways. The recording, editing, mixing, balancing and precise placement of sounds was the responsibility of the âforgotten menâ referred to above, who mastered the technical roles of sound production: the Sound Recordists, Boom Operators, Sound Production Mixers, Sound Editors, Sound Mixers, Sound Effects Editors and Sound Directors who formed the sound departments of the Hollywood majors in the studio era.
âSound designâ is now widely accepted as an important area of creative labour in contemporary film production; the role of âsound designerâ emerged with technical innovators such as Walter Murch and Randy Thom, working in the production cultures of post-1970s cinema, cultures that contrasted with the classical Hollywood mode of production in terms of work regimes and organisation.1 However, the long and complex history of this crucial, yet largely invisible work and the technicians who executed it still remain largely unknown in film history.
This book restores sound technicians to Hollywoodâs creative history. Exploring a range of films from the early sound period (1931) through to the late studio period (1948), and drawing on a wide range of archival sources, I reveal how Hollywoodâs sound craft worked, and why its practitioners worked in the ways they did. The book demonstrates how sound technicians developed conventions designed to tell stories through sound; it places them within the production cultures of studio era filmmaking, uncovering a history of collective and collaborative creativity. I trace the emergence of a body of highly skilled sound personnel, able to apply expert technical knowledge in the science of sound to the creation of cinematic soundscapes alive with mood and sensation.
The concept of a âsoundscapeâ has informed my study. Established in the work of acoustic ecologist R. Murray Schafer, a âsoundscapeâ connotes a âsonic environmentâ and, as Schafer details, the term âmay refer to actual environments or to abstract constructions, such as musical compositions and tape montagesâ, and, by extension, to the creation of the ambient narrative territories of cinema.2 Schaferâs definition of âsoundscapeâ draws on the field of cultural ecology; for him, the soundscape of a specific location is shaped by its environment â it has a morphology â and can be imbued with cultural, and place-specific, resonances. The term âsoundscapeâ has gained a presence and relevance in discussions and debates about film sound, and it has gradually acquired a critical currency in film sound studies, evident in work by sound practitioners, such as David Sonnenschein, and sound theorists and historians, such as Emily Thompson, Randolph Jordan and Jonathan Sterne.3 As these writers acknowledge, âsoundscapeâ has come to connote both the acoustic environment created for a listener by the sounds that surround them, and the forms of knowledge (cultural, aesthetic, technological) that structure listening. As set out below, I draw on Schaferâs idea of the structuring of a soundscape by different sounds, and I understand the soundscapes of the classical Hollywood cinema as shaped and conditioned by the forms of knowledge and practices of the body of sound technicians who produced them.
Schafer conceptualises the soundscape as a âsonic environmentâ composed of distinct strata, or layers, of sound: âkeynote soundsâ, âsignal soundsâ and âsoundmarksâ.4 The keynote of a soundscape is formed by the sounds so frequently heard that they comprise the âbackgroundâ, the âfundamental tone around which the composition may modulateâ.5 Keynote sounds form a âgroundâ against which âsignal soundsâ stand out. âSignals sounds are foreground soundsâ, some of which constitute âacoustic warning devices: bells, whistles, horns and sirensâ.6 The third stratum of Schaferâs soundscape is formed by soundmarks, âa community sound which is unique or possesses qualities which make it specially regarded or noticed by people in that communityâ.7
Research for this project began with my attention being captured by cinematic soundscapes: the layering and patterning of sound effects and silence in dark thrillers such as Cat People (Jacques Tourneur, 1942), Phantom Lady (Robert Siodmak, 1944) and Dark City (William Dieterle, 1950). The soundscapes of these films include sequences exhibiting expert and effective sound design â the beat and pacing of footsteps create suspense, whilst the sonic contrasts between silence and sound, and the layering of ambient keynote sounds, form the narrative territories of the cities in which they are set. I have analysed the sound conventions and style in those films elsewhere, but the initial question that surfaced, for me, on hearing those films was: âWho did the sound?â8 The question initially seemed simple â a matter of attributing credit by finding the names of technicians who worked on the sound for these films, but as I began to pursue the trail of technicians, it became clear that the question needed refining. It was not only a matter of researching âwhoâ undertook the tasks of sound recording, mixing, editing and re-recording in the sound departments of the Hollywood studios, but of understanding the material practices of the âdoingâ of those tasks, and of grasping the forms of knowledge (technical, aesthetic, pragmatic or contextual, and economic) that underpinned that âdoingâ. As I pursued my research further, it became evident that as a body of workers Hollywoodâs sound technicians were operating in a much wider field of activity than simply at the end of a microphone boom, or sitting at a mixing console; they were involved in cross-institutional technical research, the development of standards, the dissemination of practices and of conventions in sound aesthetics. In accounting for this wider field of activity, my research question moved from âwho did the soundâ to a wider investigation of the framing contexts that shape sound technologies, style and practice. Hence, the concept of a soundscape can serve a dual purpose in thinking about the histories of Hollywood film sound; it can refer to the ways that sounds build the acoustic territory of the diegesis â a narrative soundscape â and it can refer to how a filmâs soundscape is shaped by the morphology comprising its technological and production contexts. The book analyses four distinct spheres of activity in which sound technicians exercised their influence on classical Hollywood soundscapes: through their shaping of technical research, in their formation of aesthetic discourse, through their work âbelow-the-lineâ in classical Hollywoodâs production cultures, and in their participation in institutional networks and labour organisations.
The period the book covers extends from the early stages of sound production (1931) to the end of the major studio era (1948). Periodisations in film sound history have, understandably, focused upon major moments of change. The transition between silent and sound cinema seemingly offers one of the clearest marks of periodisation in film history. As Donald Crafton argues, âfew demarcations are so sharply drawn, so elegantly opposed, so pristinely binaryâ.9 The transformations in technology, industry organisation and film style that the coming of sound brought to Hollywood have offered rich material for insightful film histories, and the changes in the transitional period have been very thoroughly mapped.10 The temporal definitions assigned by historians to the transitional period have been part of a conceptualisation of change; period boundaries necessarily mark not only a distinctive break at their boundary points, but simultaneously construct an internal consistency within and between these boundaries. In the existing critical literature of film sound histories, the transitional period is constructed precisely as a period of change, and consequently, the period âbeyondâ, in which changes are less pronounced, has been constructed as one of comparative stability. David Bordwell, Janet Staiger and Kristin Thompson, and Donald Crafton, adopt 1931 as the date marking the end of major technological and stylistic changes.11
Recent historical work on film sound has begun to periodise change in new ways. Rick Altmanâs work on the multiple and intermedial practices of combining sound, song, voice and music with silent film exhibition demonstrates that audiovisual combinations in cinema have long established traditions, and that many practices in post-transitional sound cinema retain traces of earlier contexts.12 In his work on the coming of sound, James Lastra pinpoints 1934 as marking a stabilisation in practices and models of representation in sound; and Lea Jacobs establishes that the early sound period was marked by widespread innovation in methods of creating pace in narrative movement, dialogue timing and underscoring. Her study traces changing practices up to the mid-1930s.13 Michael Slowik analyses scoring practices from the beginning of the transition up to 1934, tracing varying practices with distinct musical styles, different film genres and levels of budget.14 Katherine Spring presents the transition to sound anew by tracing the convergence between Hollywood and the popular music industry, and the role of the pop song in early sound cinema.15
The primary focus of this book is the agency â that is, the activity and influence â of Hollywoodâs sound technicians between 1931 and 1948; this period is âbeyondâ the transition to sound, although of course the transition forms a crucial background context to my study. The major period of the Hollywood studio system of the 1930s and 1940s has often been conceived as characterised by relative stability and homogeneity in film style and production, but if the historical focus is recalibrated from a macro level to a closer tracking of the activity of the sound craft across the period, then it becomes evident that this period is alive with myriad changes and modifications to sound technologies, style and production practices. The book conceives of these changes as âdynamicâ, rather than linear; conceptualising change as dynamic permits an understanding of change processes as uneven, and as varying according to the agents and contexts within which they occur. The term âdynamicsâ has applicability in a range of fields â in physics it describes the motion of bodies dependent on the intensity of their mobilising forces; the term also incorporates the idea of the patterns of change, and of the role of interaction in change; and we can speak of âpersonality dynamicsâ or âgroup dynamicsâ. Dynamics shift with variations in force or intensity, and, depending on the intensity of movement, a dynamic can be arrested, and re-stabilised.
During the period examined in this book, the activities and influence of sound technicians evolved. From their position as Hollywoodâs newest workforce in the early 1930s, they deployed highly specialised technical knowledge to shape film sound technologies and standards, they developed and disseminated shared values in sound film style, they applied their craft in sound film production processes and they participated in and influenced industrial institutions and organisations. Through detailed archival and empirical research, I trace how the work and agency of sound technicians was engaged in influencing the processes, or dynamics, of change.
The book is organised to examine the dynamics of film sound in the broad areas of activity in which sound technicians participated: it analyses dynamics in technological innovation; the dynamics of sound film style; dynamics in the contexts of film production and the dynamics of labour relations and organisations. Changes occurred in these different, but concurrent and related, contexts at different rates, and on different scales. The book considers the issue of scale by choosing case studies illustrating the dynamics of film sound at different scalar levels through the period. I examine dynamics at a âmacroâ level, analysing, for example, cross-industry projects on defining sound standards in the mid-1930s, projects which involved Hollywoodâs senior sound technicians. I also turn my attention to âmicro-levelâ contexts on specific film productions by analysing the fine-grained production decisions made by sound technicians that underpin the crafting of sound for a sequence. Between the macro and micro levels is a middle level, the level of studio and of craft, and the level at which organisational and shared craft conventions in sound practice were shaped by groups of technicians. The book examines these shared conventions, as well as some instances of how these conventions were oriented towards the âpractice preferencesâ of particular studios.
Concepts of scale and level have been important in studies of media industries, and in film history, and these concepts define the âlevel of analysisâ at which research takes place, the methodologies used, and how claims about causality, agency and power within work cultures are calibrated.16 Amanda Lotz defines the most common levels used in the field as those of national/international, the focus on specific industrial contexts, analyses of particular organisations, and research into individual productions and studies of individual agents. Lotz notes that the level of organisations, productions and individual agents typically have a âmore micro level focusâ, within which researchers âplace much emphasis on understanding the complexities of practices and the varied agency of those who may work within vast media conglomerationsâ.17 She observes that, traditionally, micro-level studies have diverged from macro-level studies, in that these studies âoften have not supported deterministic hypotheses proposed by theories produced at the macro level, or at least have suggested that the daily processes of production of media industries are far more complicated than the macro-level views might have the field understandâ.18 It is possible to connect micro- and macro-level studies by ânegotiatingâ between the methods of analysis, and by combining the concerns of political economy, grounded in empirical data, with an understanding of the often âcomplex, ambivalent and contestedâ nature of the cultural industries.19
Scaling my study to draw on case studies at the distinct levels of micro-, mid- and macro-industry analysis has allowed me to capture an overall field of activity for Hollywoodâs sound technicians. Alongside their demarcated roles in the vertical hierarchies of studio sound departments...