Reconnoitring the Peccioli Radioscape
We flew to Italy with a good deal of equipment, prepared to test our ideas about using radio to enhance the enjoyment Peccioli’s older people found in their surroundings. Large-scale topographic maps were prepared to help us ask the older citizens where we might locate interesting soundscapes. A parabolic microphone and high-quality cassette recorder would allow us to capture the sounds.
Most potent of all, we brought a twenty watt FM transmitter and associated equipment, prepared to broadcast the results of our experiment to the older people in the village or while they drove with us around the countryside.
Our research into the legality of broadcasting sounds of the countryside over FM frequencies in Italy had been frustrating and inconclusive. Attempts to locate the relevant authorities over the month before we travelled had been unsuccessful, despite the help of a native Italian to guide and translate for us. We knew that in many countries low-powered broadcasts are legal (though a twenty watt transmitter, capable of being received for at least ten miles, was pushing the limits). But the situation in Italy was unclear.
It seemed that either anything was legal, or nothing was. Given that our tests would take place only over a day or two, in a fairly remote village, we decided to risk detection and proceed with the trials.
Meeting with the local group of older people, we spent an afternoon poring over the topological maps, marking them with farms, streams, and other sites where we might discover interesting sites to harvest sounds. As we looked over the maps, the local group regaled us with stories of wartime hardships, local feuds, and changing boundaries caused by economic swings. As they pointed out the relevant areas from a rooftop terrace, it became increasingly evident that there was a social and political element to choosing sites for the Pastoral Landscape, one that could enrich the experience of hearing sounds from locations within sight of the village.
The next day, we returned to the village to start recording the rural soundscape. Accompanied by our local partners and several of the older inhabitants, we traversed the countryside near Peccioli, stopping at spots identified by the local group to sample the ambient sounds. A local villa yielded bird songs from a nearby wood. A stream near the community dump – source of much of the village’s income – provided water sounds. Sheep at a local farm bleated, and chickens clucked. We learned quickly that exposed viewpoints are not good listening points, as they are contaminated by air and road traffic. But over the day we gathered a good collection of sounds for transmission.
Unfortunately, the issue of illegal broadcasting had been simmering in the background during the visit. Our local partners, alarmed by our plans to set up the transmitter with its two metre aerial, had objected to its use from our arrival. As our preliminary meeting progressed, they built their argument. Many major radio stations had signal repeaters on a hillside only tens of kilometres away, they pointed out, allowing broadcasts to reach from Florence to Pisa. The airwaves were saturated, and a careful check confirmed that there were virtually no gaps in the spectrum.
The radio landscape was in corporate hands: trespassing on it was bound to interfere with commercial broadcasts, and would likely bring complaints and even legal action. Although it was tempting to proceed regardless, our local partners, who would not be leaving the country the next day, grew increasingly desperate to stop us. In the end we relented. The Radioscape would not be tested during the trip.
The political impracticality of transmitting over commercial frequencies was disappointing. Solutions exist, but none are entirely satisfactory. Local radio stations might be willing to broadcast the soundscape periodically during the day, but this would interfere with the continuous availability that makes the Radioscape an extension of the landscape rather than a special event. More promising, the Radioscape could be transmitted over frequencies set aside for amateur use, and the older people provided with specialised receivers for listening, foreshadowing possibilities opened by digital radio. Although this has the advantage of creating a dedicated Radioscape, the sound quality would be reduced. Commercial interests only relinquish second-rate electromagnetic real-estate to the public, devitalising autonomous uses of the airwaves.
If the Radioscape was unfeasible for practical reasons, however, its desirability was underscored by our tests. In wandering the countryside’s ambient soundscape, we gave flesh to the sketches, diagrams, and particularly the interactive simulation with which we had explored the initial proposal for a Pastoral Radioscape. Focusing on recording heightened our awareness of the landscape as an auditory experience, and we began to appreciate the diversity of sounds we could find there. Most importantly, the group of older people joined us in our exploration. Not only did they use the maps to point out locations we might search for sounds, but they joined us on our expedition into the countryside, helping us locate suitable sites for recording, negotiating with local farmers to give us access to the animals, and listening to the results with enjoyment. This success actually helped dissuade us from pursuing the system further: convinced that it would work, we saw little intellectual challenge in attacking purely political obstacles to its development.