Phenomenal Acoustics

MUSIC, MUSIC, MUSIC
Sheila Midgley

This article is about one of those rare relationships that works perfectly; the South
Galiano Hall and music -- especially classical music. We have on Galiano a very rare
and special building that we should treasure – not just as a physical structure that serves
the community well – but as an instrument. Almost every musician who has played in
this hall has mentioned what a joy it is to make music in this environment – and although
I’ve mentioned this phenomenon before, I’ve never tackled the obvious question – why?

Now a building can’t talk -- but it can be heard. Think of nervously walking through an
empty building, in the dark, and hearing the hollow sound of your footfall, the whistle of
wind through a small crack in a window, the creak of shifting timber as evening falls and
cools the air. Your whole body becomes so receptive to the ambiance every hair stands
up on your arms, the small of your back feels vulnerable -- a symphony of sound conjures
up scenes from a gothic novel. In this state of heightened awareness, a shiver creeps up
your spine.

The world renowned Evelyn Glennie, profoundly deaf since age 12, has capitalized on
using heightened awareness and shown us that you don’t need ears to hear. Using her
whole body as a sounding board this incredible 46 year old Scot has beat the odds of
being deaf by getting accepted into music school, excelling in instruments dominated
by males and becoming the 20th century’s first full-time solo percussionist in western
society. Now Dame Evelyn, she performs as well as teaches thousands of people the
art of listening. Her success is in part due to playing barefoot so that she can “feel” the
music travel through the floor boards. She also picks up vibrations through her hands,
arms, and torso and becomes one with her instrument. In the South Hall she could also
become one with the building.

Now what makes the South Hall an instrument? Why is it that, if given the opportunity
and a little knowledge, we can actually feel/hear how the music is enriched or diminished
by the building it is played in. For example, there are many violins in the world and
they are fundamentally all made the same way – but only a rare few have the sound of
a Stradivarius. So it’s a combination of design, construction methods, the wood and
serendipity that made the South Hall play like a Strad.

Don Anderson kindly explained that the design was probably initiated by Paul Scoones,
the community minded English immigrant who was one of the driving forces behind
getting the South Hall built. The building was to serve as a community hall, a library, an
agricultural hall and a place for recreation and the enjoyment of the arts. It’s interesting
that music is one of the things that helped make it possible to build the hall. Scoones had
music nights in his home where people could, by donation, come and listen to music on
his gramophone. Maybe he had an intuitive sense of what type of building would have
good acoustics.

The Hall, built between 1924 and 1926, started off 25 feet wide by 36 feet long. Later a
14 foot addition was added to the entrance end nearest the street, giving it a grand total
of 50 feet. The foundation sits on cedar timbers fixed to concrete pads. The main hall
is classic wood frame construction and the wood of choice was old growth Douglas Fir.
Built before electricity arrived on the island the workers used only hand tools and nails.
We are now on the second floor, but the original sits under the current replacement. The
original Hall, built to last, contains no plastics or glues; the wallboards that line the hall
are so dense that a nail can barely penetrate – and there is virtually no insulation. And
yikes, I hope they don’t consider insulating until they find out if the absence of insulation
is part of the good vibes!

The Hall’s acoustics are probably enhanced by two other factors: a high ceiling, topped
off with an attic, and a basement. The high ceiling allows the music to soar and the attic
probably dampens the sound’s ability to escape through the roof. The basement probably
responds in a way similar to the design of violins and guitars with the “hollow” voice box
allowing the sound to resonate. All very obvious you say. This is where the serendipity
comes into play. Like a treasured Strad, the South Hall really is an acoustic instrument
that stands out in the crowd. The sweetness of the sound may never be fully explained
and I expect if we consulted three sound experts we would get three answers.

Thank goodness that the custodians of the South Hall have treated the building kindly
and made changes carefully. That said, I’m sure that we are all glad of the addition of
washrooms off the main hall -- previously the only washrooms were at the back of the
stage and access during concerts put a whole new meaning to performance art.

The Concert Society’s upcoming season, which starts with Sara Davis Buechner playing
the piano at Whaler Bay Lodge, continues with four concerts at the South Hall. I mention
this because it is an incredible opportunity to listen in a whole new way. While I’m not
suggesting that you should throw yourself on the floor to listen, I wouldn’t be too adverse
to the idea either. Evelyn Glennie’s deafness might be emulated with a good pair of
ear plugs, but most important is taking the time to realize that at the South Hall there is
always one more instrument in the mix -- and your sitting in it. Using this logic the New
Orford String Quartet quickly becomes a quintet.

Following the Orford Strings is the Pentaedre Wind Ensemble. Both of these groups
use a wide cross section of traditional instruments that will give you an opportunity to
listen in a more careful way. Maybe the Concert Society could persuade them to play a
few experimental bars -- sort of a shoes on, shoes off, approach to listening. The fourth
concert is the Orchid Ensemble. They could be described as east meets west as they play
the traditional eastern instruments, the ehru/Chinese violin and zheng/Chinese zither,
with western contemporary and new age influences. The Ensemble has a very different,
but classic sound that will really take advantage of the acoustics in the South Hall. The
last concert, the favorite cabaret night, will be with Van Django, a gypsy jazz group that
gets its inspiration from the great guitarist Django Reinhardt. Four very different types of
musical sound, but the South Hall is guaranteed to make them all rock!

If the opportunity to walk in the South Hall when it is empty comes your way – take it.
Maybe sing a few notes as you’ll probably never sound better, but even more wonderful
is experiencing the amazing sound when there is a concert. To paraphrase Marshall
McLuhan, the medium translates the message or music into something more dynamic and
richer than it would be if heard in only one dimension. You don’t need an altered state
of mind to be receptive, but the 60s and 70s got it right when they talked about good and
bad vibes. The South Hall is all good vibrations.