The colour of sound

Colour envelops us. A multitude of hues, both vivid and subtle, silently enter our visual system and affect our emotional states. We attach meaning to them; they become signifiers on a personal and cultural level.

And there is sound, a mercurial force. Its physical nature is elusive; once pronounced it ceases to exist. Sonic trails pass through us, raising emotions from personal histories.

A division: deaf to the world

We live in a visually-oriented culture, navigating the world with our eyes. This reliance on sight illustrates a disconnection that exists between the senses. Here listening is reduced to a secondary position.

The consequence? Our capacity to understand the spaces we inhabit is limited. Performing our daily tasks, this visual bias leaves us living in the shadows.  

How much richer our lives would be if we perceived layers of visual and sonic matter equally. A rush of sound would reinvigorate our spatial perceptions and if we listened closely, really closely, might we hear the sound of colour?

Towards unity

'Twilight. The sun was setting behind a chain of deep green hills. The sky was awash with apocalyptic shades of red. The shrill sound of cicadas pierced the air, as if in response to the colours above. For a fleeting moment the celestial and terrestrial united—colour and sound bridged the two worlds.'

This experience triggered a question: do colours resonate at an auditory level? For each colour is there a corresponding audible frequency?

It is far from an original thought. Aristotle had already explored this subject in the 4th century BC. Indeed, for over 2,000 years cultures throughout the world have investigated the relationship between colour and sound. Reading more on the subject, it became evident that the theories advanced by scientists and musicians throughout the centuries have reflected humankind’s own philosophical epochs and idiosyncratic obsessions. It was a rich source for a radio project. And indeed, the studies became the starting point for my 'Colour of Sound' series.

The sound of colour/The colour of sound

Looking at the seven colours that constitute the ROYGBIV spectrum, 'The Colour of Sound' follows the efforts of philosophers, musicians, and scientists who have attempted to align colour with sound, or more specifically, pitch. 

The series merges spoken word with sound. Theories relating to colour are briefly presented before my own subjective interpretations of colour are introduced.

In the background a single note or interval related to colour develops into a compositional form, its intention is to allow the listener to fall into the space where colour and sound combine. As each colour holds an emotional resonance, it was also important to find an appropriate sonic texture for each tone.

The compositional process couldn’t be started until I fully understood my own reaction to each colour. Perhaps these reactions were more culturally-prescribed than I originally realised, leaving them easily accessible to the listener. Looking at screens of single colours, I wrote some notes that helped begin the process of composing colour.

Notes on colour

Red: renewal, molten rock, life itself. The edge of difference: violence/passion, love/hate. It is anarchy, it is law. A colour to respect; a sound that propels us onwards.

Orange: unstable, stepping between red and yellow, its confused state will never allow it to be fashion’s favourite colour, not this season anyway. Its vibrant sound is overwhelming, threatening to engulf us in excess energy.

Yellow: a colour that defies easy definition. A single sunflower exudes joy, but how sickening to sit in a room of this single colour. The sounds would pulsate rapidly from the walls. Poor Vincent, was it sunflowers that sent him mad?

Green: the planet Venus was once thought to be green. The early astronomers were wrong, witnesses instead to an aurora, solar charged particles instigating misshapen theories about life on other worlds. I hear unearthly tones.

Blue: horizons, distance, the unknowable. It is a place that cannot be reached, cannot be charted; it is the space between ourselves and others. There is a certain warmth to blue, it holds a depth unlike any other colour, slowly modulating like a heartbeat.

Indigo: a deep midnight blue. Once the colour denoting royalty, it was protected by Elizabethan law. Sourced from the Indigo plant in India, it is the colour of empire, of colonisation, of pomp and ceremony. It symbolises order and fanaticism. There are wavering sounds of sickness present.

Violet: the colour worn by Julius Caesar and Cleopatra on their imperial robes. Recognised by Aristotle as part of the colour spectrum, he believed the colour violet could be heard as an octave. A colour stepping in equidistant measure to the highest ranks of nobility.

These are the sounds I imagine when presented with fields of colour … but what do you hear, right now, from the colours that surround you?

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