what stories might be told in a climate-changed future? how might the lives of future generations be shaped by decisions we make now and in our lifetimes? these are questions my collaborator, jacqueline arias, and i began to ask when creating the multimodal piece rays of resilience: a vision of the future, thinking about how our different strengths as artists might help us to imagine the future of the place we call home. 

tucson, arizona is a city located in the sonoran desert in the american southwest that to this day faces a number of environmental challenges including threats of extreme heat and aridity, water scarcity, wildfire, landscape degradation, and loss of biodiversity. with the climate science showing humanity’s steady approach towards several dangerous tipping points in the coming decades, how might the lives of people living in the old pueblo be transformed? how might we be resilient in the face of inevitable change?

the images created by jacqueline arias use lumenography, an alternative photographic practice in which organic materials are placed on photographic paper and transfer the image through passive exposure to solar light. still landscape photographs provided by zack lischter-katz, featuring tucson’s iconic giant saguaros.

a description of the piece

rays of resilience is an audio-visual artwork featuring narration and visuals designed and arranged by jacqueline arias, an mfa student at the university of arizona school of art, as well as text, music, and sound design by myself. through the piece the audience is introduced to three characters living in a not-so-distant (but undefined) future.

the first character is a mother living in the heart of tucson with her child, illustrating aspects of community resilience, ancestral knowledge, food sovereignty, and hope for the future. the second story features an individual experiencing loss, expressed through stories and memories from a different landscape, personifying the loss of the world we know and love. the final story follows an energy industry worker reflecting on an immense tragedy that, having been completely avoidable, serves as a wake up call that catalyzes critical change. 

the piece is not, of course, a prediction of the future. it is an exercise — a meditation in imagining futures that allows us to search for and experience common values, visions, dreams, and fears. 

the visual elements of the piece consist of lumens and still photographs. lumens are prints produced by layering organic and transparent materials on expired photographic paper and placing them in sunlight. the somewhat abstract but familiar and emotive qualities of lumen prints, as well as the ability to incorporate both materials from our own environment, and the use of passive solar energy spoke to us as the best artist jacqueline arias working on troubleshooting video before exhibition visual medium to use in this piece. still film photographs provided by zach lischer-katz lend a visual  counterpoint primarily in the second story. 

rays of resilience was exhibited as an installation piece closing out the university of arizona center for creative photography’s studio ccp program in the fall of 2023. in february 2024 the piece was shown at the perspectives on resilience event put on by the arizona institute of resilience, having been invited to include more arts-based voices in the conversation regarding climate change resilience. 

we are immensely grateful for the opportunity to explore our senses of home as well as our imaginings of the future, and to have the opportunity to share them with you through narrative, music, art, and sound. 

arundo donax is a bamboo-like species of grass believed to be indigenous to eastern asia, though it has been cultivated for millennia in areas of northern africa, central asia, and the mediterranean. it was introduced to warmer regions of the united states in the early 19th century from the mediterranean as an ornamental plant, as well as to control erosion along waterways and drainage canals, though it subsequently escaped cultivation, becoming invasive along watersheds across the country. in its spread, arundo donax poses significant problems in arid regions, such as in tucson, where i live.  

connecting music to the environment

for me, as an oboe/english horn player—a double-reed player—my life has become inextricably linked to this plant. those of us who are oboists or bassoonists have a particularly complex and special relationship to arundo. we are cursed with the task of reed-making, an elaborate process of crafting mouthpieces from the giant reed cane. 

the semi-hard, flexible structure and malleability of the material allows us, through years of practice, as well as through trial and error, to develop our own unique voices and tone colors, as well as to develop a system that works for us based on our own specific needs. through the tradition, we develop a kinship with this living, organic being; shaping it, manipulating it, embedding ourselves into its structure, and working to make it sing, day after day. it is a labor of love, of necessity, and of much frustration.

ordinarily, cane cultivated for use in reed-making must be grown in the south of france or more recently in areas of spain, turkey, argentina, mexico, and china. it is grown under specific conditions to create high quality products of desirable shape, thickness, and quality and can easily sell for around $200/pound of tube cane, a good amount of which nevertheless varies in quality or is often unusable.

in comparison, wild-growing arundo would typically not be considered a viable option for reed-making.

taking a stand against invasive species

in january of this year, myself and other members of the oboe and bassoon studios at the university of arizona woke up bright and early on a crisp, cool saturday morning to volunteer our time and effort with the watershed management group to help eradicate this plant that is so integral to our lives as musicians, from the edges of the tanque verde watershed on the eastside of tucson. 

i distinctly remember the ground, white with frost blanketing patches of crabgrass and wild mustard. to my surprise, i could hear the sound of water flowing in the creek. it is not often that we get to experience water flowing in the sonaran desert, except for during times when we are blessed with heavy rainfall or snowmelt from our many surrounding mountains. it is a magical and serene experience to witness water in the desert.

springing up in massive clumps dotted around the creek, arundo sprawled, reaching for the sky and nearly touching it, towering 20 ft above the ground. they were giant straws, glutinously sucking up the precious water below ground. it was a daunting mess made up of layers of sickly gray rods woven together sideways within a forest of fresh green and purple shoots. there were two small trees choked within the entanglement. 

we were armed with gardening gloves and loppers. splitting off into teams, we got to work cutting down fresh shoots at the base and hauling off the dead matter in huge bundles that take two to carry. even in this form, the wood was resonant and sanghollowly as it was handled, passed around, and removed. 

by the end of our day, we had cleared nearly half of the clump that we had begun working on, and i even managed to free one of the small trees i had set out to emancipate. at one point, a hawk came to sit up in its branches, presumably waiting for some poor creature to scurry out from the unraveling heap. it was hard but incredibly satisfying work and the pile of dead stems we managed to collect was an impressive sight. 

however, half of the initial clump still remained and several more of comparable size could be seen looming around the edges of the creek. too much for one day, certainly, but the watershed management group has already been highly successful in eradicating arundo from nearby sabino canyon. there is much work to do, but there is also much hope.

an experiment in green instrumentation

historically speaking, the musical instruments of cultures around the world are often built from materials found in their environments, their physical form and music made from them informed by their ecologies. my instrument, the oboe, like arundo donax, is an import from the european and mediterranean world. its bore is built of dalbergia melanoxylon, grenadilla or african black wood, its keys are made of silver mined from some unknown mountain, its joints are lined with the dead tissue of cork trees, then assembled in a small factory on the swiss-italian border before it found its way to me. it is a product of many different environments and ecologies.

my teacher, sara fraker, d.m.a., professor of oboe at the university of arizona, had us set out  to collect trimmings of fresh green cane that is relatively straight and roughly around 10-10.5 millimeters in diameter, similar to what we purchase from commercial growers around the world. the intention for these cuttings is for them to cure for around a year or two, in which case we might experiment making them into reeds for music-making, harvested by our own hands and in service of our local environment. 

i hope that this experiment is in some way successful, as i think working with this plant as it grows invasively in our landscape would add to the significance and ritual of our craft, imbuing it with and grounding our music in our local environment while working to free our waterways of it. perhaps the wild-growing arundo found along our waterways might not produce a viable alternative to the commercially cultivated cane we are accustomed to, though at least for me it feels deeply spiritual to work with. at the very least, perhaps in its removal we can enjoy the rhythm of volunteers and community-members working together in a common purpose, and the continued gentle music of water running in a desert stream in our future.

musical recording and composition by chris zatarain

music and sound have long been used to convey and express that which can not wholly be put into words. this can include the complex and difficult feelings that can arise especially in a world threatened by global climate change, with music serving as a vehicle to connect to one another through our varied and shared expriences, to heal, as well as to inspire action and change.  

i composed this piece, the sound of mountains melting, after reading the essay by the same name from the book earth’s wild music by kathleen dean moore, ph.d. the piece is an electro-acoustic art music composition scored for solo english horn (a double-reed instrument in the oboe family) and fixed media, featuring field recordings from glacier bay, alaska courtesy of hank lentfer, a close friend of moore’s. 

inspired by the text, the piece uses the setting and elements of moore’s story to serve as an introspective meditation on the inner turmoil that can come with the uncertainty of living in a time of anthropogenic climate change. in composing and performing the piece, i have poured my own experiences, thoughts, and feelings into the story. 

in the essay, moore describes an experience she had witnessing a glacier calving event in alaska. to her, the experience is breathtaking, inciting an audible ‘awe’ as she watches massive blocks of ice crack and tumble from ancient glaciers. she even describes it as “possibly the most beautiful set of events [she has] ever seen.”

this feeling is juxtaposed, though, by the knowledge that thousands of miles away, real people are coming face to face with the very real consequences of a warming climate: catastrophic sea-level rise, severe flooding, ecosystem collapse, the consequent destruction of homes and property, and ultimately the loss of human life. 

these feelings resonate with me personally, not because i have witnessed glaciers calving, but because i have felt subtler semblances of these feelings when i encounter an unseasonably warm winter day, or when i relish in an unusually wet monsoon season—the result of larger tropical storms ravaging the coasts of mexico. is it wrong to embrace the beauty of the natural world—to feel warmth and joy in experiencing her majesty despite the world seemingly drowning and burning down around us?

i don’t think that it is, but i don’t think knowing that makes it any easier either. 

for those of us who have concern and love for our planet, it can be easy to succumb to fear, dread, and anxiety. i think it is important for us to grieve, but it is also incredibly important that we engage the beauty and the wonder of the world around us, so that we may have the strength to continue rising to defend it. 

here is a brief guide to the piece:

the piece begins with a mystical and uneasy feeling, as if to illustrate a sense of being a tiny human being on a little boat in a massive sea standing before frozen, primordial giants. icy crotales shimmer and the narrator speaks “the beauty of the falling ice spells disaster,” introducing the dissonance between the here-coupled concepts of ‘beauty’ and ‘danger’. the english horn begins by ascending from the level of the boat, rising to greet the glaciers in an exalted cry.

the thunder and boom of the cracking and shifting ice, as well as the screeching of kittiwakes sound amongst low, evolving drones and hissing flutes. the melody winds and twists, reasoning and sighing, meant to evoke a sense of grappling with the two complexities, coming to one almost-conclusion and then to another. multiphonics (a type of extended technique in which multiple pitches are played at once) are used to suggest a crunchy internal conflict and frustration.

the music at times is meant to feel turbulent, angry, confused, and even hurt. at its climax, the glacier, without warning, gives way in a large boom and gush. the music laments, sighing loudly as the ice fizzles out into the sea, followed by narration expressing the guilt and sadness that eclipses the experience, acknowledging a near-defeat by the the weight of climate change. the sound of the sea fades out and after a brief silence, a cry leaps out from the quiet. it serves as an alarm call, waking the spirit to rise back up and embrace the beauty of the world, saying firmly a resounding no to succumbing to the sense of defeat.

the narrator gives a final quote, attributed to hank lentfer, reassuring that we must be present with the world and its beauty, that we must notice it and be glad for it. the piece ends with a sense of weary, but hopeful peace, fading off into the sea.

i offer this music as a gift to anyone struggling mentally, emotionally, or even spiritually during these difficult and uncertain times. my hope is that in some way this music might help you to lean deeper into your own feelings and maybe even to feel a little less alone in some of them. 

i thank kathleen dean moore for allowing me to work with her text in this way, as well as hank lentfer for generously supplying me with recordings from the field to bring the piece to life. 

audio story by chris zatarain

when was the last time that you really, truly listened to your surroundings? where were you? what did you hear? how did you feel?

we live in a bustling and noisy world, and i for one find that there is not much room left for stillness—to be present and to really stretch my ears out and listen, even though it seems like there is always something going on. it can be exhausting. 

maybe you can relate, but to me, a retreat into the wilderness is always a welcome reprieve from the constant boom and chatter that accompanies modern life. trekking on a desert trail through saguaro national park or in ponderosa pine forest on mt. lemmon gives me a new palette of sound to tune into: 

birdsong.

wind in the trees.

the trickle of a waterfall tucked into the back of a quiet canyon.

i find it healing.

our world is changing every day, and sometimes it seems that the sprawl of human life expands more and more, and nature can often feel farther and farther away. 

in today’s conversation, i speak to laura gianonne, a field recording artist and acoustic ecology technician whose entire job is to listen to the natural world. 

laura travels the world capturing the sounds of vibrant ecosystems from the island of borneo, to the jungles of ecuador, chichibu national park in japan, and the shimmering dawn chorus of the olympic peninsula, among others. 

her skills and talents are used both in scientific endeavors aiding research and organizations like quiet parks international and bornean bird conservation, as well as to bring the peaceful, natural sounds of the world to the ears of weary listeners. 

we discuss the ways that acoustic ecology can be used in conservation and land management strategies, as well as the ways in which the act of listening can bring us some peace as well.

you can learn more about laura and listen to her beautiful field recordings, such as those featured in this audio piece, at ebbtidesound.com.

full transcript below:

chris zatarain  0:00  
what types of things can we learn when we listen to our environment? today i’m speaking with someone whose entire livelihood is based on recording and listening to natural sound.

laura gianonne  0:25  
my name is laura gianonne and i work as a sound engineer who specialized in field recording. and i also have a background in studying acoustic ecology. my college degree is from evergreen state in washington, and that’s where i lived for a long time enjoying the sounds of the forest there. i grew up in southern california and moved up to washington a little while after high school and then lived in a rural area worked on farms for a while and got involved in acoustic ecology community projects out on the olympic peninsula. currently, i mostly work as a sound editor and recording nature sounds but i also volunteer or do projects for quiet parks international and i’ve done work with forney and bird conservation as a student and i’m hoping to continue doing more field work with acoustic analysis and helping with the acoustic studies with that project again in the future.

chris zatarain  1:23  
great, so what is your favorite sound?

laura gianonne  1:26  
oh, that’s not fair. it would have to be waves. i grew up surfing. i don’t get to surf very much lately, but the sound of waves is really means a lot to me kind of cuts through to the soul for me.

chris zatarain  1:41  
all right, can you in general terms describe what acoustic ecology is and how it relates to your work as a field recordist and as an acoustic ecology technician?

laura gianonne  1:53  
sure, acoustic ecology is the field in which we study how beings relate to sound and their environment through sound. so i think maybe initially, the research was more focused on humans and the environment, and sound and how that you know, plays into how we feel in certain environments and things but there’s a lot of research about how animals and birds use sound to communicate and also how different kinds of sound affect their behavior. so like if there’s a new development that brings a lot more sound into a certain area. there are some studies and research on how that affects species in the area. so it’s, it’s a lot broader than just how it affects humans.

chris zatarain  2:42  
so as a field recordist what are some things that field recordings can tell us about the environment around us and the health of ecosystems?

laura gianonne  2:52  
a couple of studies that i’ve helped with setting up recording devices that basically can stay out on like a tree for days or weeks. in those cases, we were studying birds, so which birds are singing at which times a day and using acoustic data to see if certain species are actually present for one thing, especially if they’re threatened species or protected in some way? and then how often are they there? and so you can really get a lot of information about who’s there and when they’re there, basically, and what they’re doing from the acoustic data. and i think of field recordings in the same way. but for research you can glean a ton of information about which species are doing what at what times day, which is a great data set to analyze the ecosystem there. in the sonoran desert, when i was recording there, in the spring, i was hoping to record birdsong is migratory birds were coming through and it was a particularly dry spring. so because it was dry, there wasn’t as much food for the birds essentially, so not as many plants were blooming, fewer insects were present. and so i didn’t hear a big variety of migratory birds like i would have if there had been more rain and more water to produce, you know, food for the birds, essentially, birds being an indication of where people might enjoy being like, you can tell that it’s a dry period because, you know, there aren’t living things like passing through here in as much abundance as they would be if there was more precipitation. so in that way, it’s a sign that you’re not going to find as much water as you might other times of the year or after more rainfall. it’s an indicator of what’s happening. in the environment. so like that dry spring example, if the season is changing, or if there’s a lower more rainfall than usual that’ll affect the whole food chain and birds are really like striking and like, you know, audible, visible way to notice that you can notice plants flowering but if you notice that a certain bird that you normally see isn’t there regularly anymore, that can be a sign that something is shifted in the environment for that bird.

chris zatarain  5:18  
so in your knowledge and your experience, can you give a description of some ways that natural soundscapes are changing and what is driving some of those changes?

laura gianonne  5:28  
sure, there is a really cool study 2020 to 2021 in san francisco about white crown or white throated sparrows, and this study was about their vocalizations during that time. period, and showed that their songs became more complex during the time period when there was less traffic noise. so the city had experienced a significant shift in noise levels like a lot of cities had during that time. and birds were able to sing more complexly and be heard by other birds, i think is the assumption. so like, they won’t do it unless there’s a you know, purpose in it like if the other bird can’t hear them. it’s not working. so i think the idea is, basically there was fewer layers of noise to compete with and so the birds could revert to more complex song types, which was really interesting. so i think that was a really acute example of how the layers of noise that we create through various you know, industries and transportation can affect the soundscape by pretty pretty dramatically. i think that the massive amount of development all over the world really affects the acoustics of all of these natural spaces and our own spaces. so anytime we’re paving a road, it affects how species move through wilderness and also creates this noise corridor. so i’ve seen that everywhere, basically, just constant development, and then more and more air traffic a s well, that sound is very pervasive because of the altitude and the loudness of the jet. and i think that it’s mostly just that we continue to expand our development. basically, keep doing that everywhere. and in some cases, i think, you know, like, people need homes and, you know, industry and all these things. so i don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing, that we’re developing spaces, but i don’t think noise is always considered or at a top priority over other things, i think, especially with certain kinds of air traffic, it’s pretty tough to restrict that in terms of the noise that it’s causing.

chris zatarain  7:42  
can you tell us a little bit about how the data collected in acoustic ecology can be used to help in conservation efforts or land management efforts?

laura gianonne  7:54  
yeah, there’s one example of a project that i helped with on the olympic peninsula, there’s been an increase of jet traffic because of a specific navy project testing a certain a certain technique. so people have been trying to figure out or have been actually implementing different ways to monitor this for years now because of the huge impact it’s having on the community there. and so one study the researchers lauren keaney. and she basically just recorded different locations in the operation area for these flights, and then sorted through all of that data to identify which types of flights are happening and how loud they are. and that data has been used in the community discussion of the situation, but also in actual litigation. so she’s got this acoustic data set that she’s spent also a lot of time analyzing. and so it’s not just the data collection, but her work, doing statistics on it and and studying the data from that, that demonstrates what exactly is happening in terms of loudness and frequency of flights and then that can be used to make rules basically. and then quiet parks international is a similar concept. when we do surveys we’re looking at which types of noise is present and how long and how loud is it and that can be used to designate areas as quiet parks or quiet trails, or quiet urban parks. and so that data is used to basically highlight areas people can go to enjoy a place that’s pretty free from human caused noise, which is hard to find. so that’s being used in that way to help bring awareness of wilderness basically, but acoustic is really helpful in that way as well. it kind of adds to the thoroughness of detecting whether something’s there and then you can use that to say, okay, this threatened species exists here. so we’re going to have this thinning process happen that’s going to bring in machinery and whatnot. it could affect the species and then that’s kind of a powerful way to adjust what’s being done with the land. and then in other ways it to us to document if a species is present, and if it’s a threatened or endangered species, and there are certain mandated protections for that species. so if you have acoustic data that proves that an endangered species is in a forest, and you also have that forest is slated to be thinned or logged. then you have some information there to work with. like you can detect species by doing visual surveys and, you know, there’s different kinds of methods for that.

chris zatarain  10:40  
so why do you think it’s important to designate these specific quiet areas that people can go to and what are the benefits of being able to listen in these environments?

laura gianonne  10:54  
i think that people have an opportunity to be in a place that doesn’t have layers of noise, where they can spend time hearing what a bird or an insect sounds like or a mammal or something or the wind through branches without having to listen over all this other noise. it just becomes a lot more clear what’s happening in the natural environment around you because you’re not having to strain to hear it over all the other stuff that we normally are exposed to. so i hope people can find places to go where they can have that experience and it can be a little bit unsettling at first because i feel like i get all of this, you know, if i’m in an urban environment where there’s a lot of sound sources that are quite loud like i get all of this information like that, and then i go into a space or a forest or something away from that, that doesn’t have it. and suddenly you have this whole different sensory experience. it’s very dramatically different than that kind of typical listening environment that i think most people are in most of the time. and then i mean, there are like natural acoustic environments like in tropical forests are really loud during the day. so or like heavy rain, you know, or in the desert out and storms and stuff. and there’s plenty of natural experiences that are very loud so it’s not all just like one wren singing in the tree or something. but i think getting to hear that without all of the layers is a pretty special experience that people can have by moving away from those places that are more dense, but it’s sometimes hard to access it because it’s a long drive or flight or something.

chris zatarain  12:38  
yeah, i think that’s a really good point. and i think that that’s why things like field recordings can be so useful because they make natural sound a little more accessible. where can people find and listen to more of your work?

laura gianonne  12:51  
i have a website for my business called https://ebbtidesound.com/. and i also have a soundcloud channel. so all of that you can access through my website.

chris zatarain  13:02  
awesome. thank you so much, laura.

audio story by chris zatarain

tucson resident charles collins’ backyard garden may be unlike any other home garden you’ve ever seen. he’s opted to grow aquaponically rather than in a traditional in-ground garden. 

aquaponics is a system of growing food in a closed-loop system that integrates live fish, a soilless medium, plants, and mineral-rich water. charles designed and built his aquaponics system by blending forms of traditional ecological knowledge and modern scientific understanding, as well as low and high technologies to grow an abundance of fresh vegetables and sustainable protein to feed him and his family.  

his work and influence continues to expand across his local community and around the world, with technologies he developed being adapted and used in cutting edge scientific  endeavors at nasa and the world health organization (who). his main mission, though, is in getting more people interested in growing their own food.  

according to charles, aquaponics is the answer to growing abundant, nutritious, and sustainably-sourced food in a changing climate for everyday people interested in taking more control of their food security. 

this piece is intended to acquaint you with the warm and wonderful charles collins, a man working to change the way that the world grows food.