Sounding the Dharma of Insentient Beings: Soundscape Composition and Zen Buddhism

溪聲便是廣長舌,
山色豈非清淨身。
夜來八萬四千偈,
他日如何舉似人?The sound of the stream is his long, broad tongue;
The mountain form, his immaculate body.
This evening’s eighty-four thousand verses —
How will I tell them tomorrow?1– Su Shi 蘇軾 (1037-1101 CE)
Introduction
What do mountains and rivers have to say to us, and how
do we listen? A persisting interest in my studies of Zen
has been the concept of the inanimate preaching
buddha-dharma (wuqing shuofa 無情說法). Attributed to
the Tang Chinese Zen master Nanyang Huizhong 南陽慧忠 (675-775
CE), the above expression points to an understanding that
equates the fabric of reality with enlightenment itself
[8].
The underlying ontology of wuqing shuofa is one in
which all participants exist in an interdependent nexus of
causes and conditions. By extension of this logic,
mountains, trees and rivers constantly communicate
transcendental truths (their intrinsic buddhahood),
insights one can appreciate through attentive listening. In
light of our current environmental crises, such affective
“resources” are crucial to contemplate in our efforts to
reassess our relationships with the environment. This post
freely explores the above notions in light of soundscape
composition, a range of creative approaches for engaging
with our acoustic environments. And suggests that the above
methods offer theoretically and methodologically mature
strategies for deepening our awareness and relationship
with the non-human world.
Background: From Huizhong to Dōgen
The conceptual background of wuqing shuofa is not
without debate, developing in tandem with the movement of
Buddhist ideas from India to China [8].
Within this lineage of ideas, wuqing shuofa cannot be
separated from the question of whether insentient beings
possess buddha-nature2 or not. The
conventional use of the above term can be traced to the
Mahāparinirvāṇasūtra (Dabanniepan jing 大般涅槃經)
that emphasises the universality of buddha-nature among
sentient beings. The preaching of grasses and trees 草木 or
`earth, trees, tiles and rocks’ 土木瓦石 developed out of later
commentarial traditions that sought to extend buddha-nature
to the insentient world as well. For Huizhong, a proponent
of the latter, the `mind of the ancient Buddha’ 古佛心 was
nothing more than `wall and tile rubble’ 牆壁瓦礫 (CBETA
T.1986B:0519b183). The whole
universe is itself the buddha’s body, with all it’s
constituents constantly expressing this reality. These
“voices” can, subsequently, trigger spiritual insight if
approached with a non-discriminating and non-dualistic
mind. Such discussions would see development in the later
Caodong Chan School 曹洞宗 (Jp., Sōtō-shū) and in Japan,
notably by Dōgen 道元 (1200-1253).
In his reading of the Dabanniepan jing, Dōgen
suggests buddha-nature transcends sentient beings, being an
inherent characteristic of the universe. Writing in his work
Keisei sanshoku 谿声山色, Dōgen comments upon the above poem
by Su Shi regarding an experience of hearing a stream as the
preaching of a buddha. The poet reveals buddha-nature within
the phenomenal or conventional world but laments how he could
share this spiritual vision [2]. Dōgen suggests that
such experiences should be approached like a koan-riddle
(gongan 公案), a spiritual tool for (sentient) beings to
probe reality. While Dōgen was adamant about the universality
of buddha-nature, he emphasised the subtlety of understanding
truths heard in the environment. In his work titled Mujō
seppō 無情說法 (i.e. wuqing shuofa), the meditation
master emphasises the need to contextualise the preaching of
insentient beings as part of the fundamental activity of
enlightenment-in-action [1]. Dōgen’s vehicle for
this is his complex notion of seated meditation (zazen/zuochan
坐禪), which points to the practice of actualised enlightenment
in our phenomenal world. A banal interpretation of the above is
that one should approach environmental phenomena with curiosity
and spiritual doubt about one’s place as part of the bigger
picture.
On Soundscape Composition
Jumping now to the contemporary era, the term
“soundscape composition” emerged out of the intellectual
movements following the World Soundscape Project (WSP).
Beginning in the late 1960s at Simon Fraser University
(British Columbia, Canada), the focus of the WSP was to
raise awareness and document our changing soundscapes. The
above is especially in light of noise pollution, and the
rising consciousness towards environmental issues [6,7]. Out
of the forms of composition that emerged from the WSP, one
that included radically altering original recordings,
included a neutral documentary-like approach involving
minimal compositional interference. As a “phonographic”
approach (the auditory equivalent of photography), this
involved disseminating environmental sound by framing it
for an audience. Both the techniques above, however, aim at
pointing directly to the source sounds, seeking to maintain
a contextual link with their origins. The above effectively
highlights aspects of the soundscape and helps communicate
it to others. As a form of listening and composition, it
allows us to make sense of unstructured acoustic
environmental data and refine it into a more approachable
report-like format. The latter is inherently with the
purpose of fostering environmental awareness.
Soundscape composition cannot be whatever environmental
sounds mashed together. As discussed above, soundscape
composition should first keep a degree of recognisability of
its sounds. The above is so that the listener’s memories,
associations and recognition of sounds can be invoked. It is
important that the listener is aware and also oriented towards
what the soundscape composition is about. Soundscape
composition needs to, therefore, maintain a sense of structure,
narrative and indeed, composition, and avoid becoming an
assorted set of “holiday slides” [3]. The
composer’s role is to raise awareness and communicate the voice
of the world, the soundscape being that which makes
environmental issues audible. Following Hildegard Westerkamp,
the above approaches establish a forum for artists to address
issues in our soundscapes and comment upon them via the
compositional method [7]. In this
regard, composition could allow us to create a clearer sense of
being and belonging, away from the attempts of aural
unconsciousness encouraged by consumer culture. This invitation
is not just at the expense of the composers but extends a
responsibility to listen deeply to the audience.
The Zen of Soundscape Composition
For composers and zen masters, all perspectives of the
environment are unique to the perceiver. French composer
Luc Ferrari’s (1929-2005) genre-defining work Presque
Rien n°1, ou le lever du jour au bord de la mer
(1967-1970) (1970) is a sonic snapshot of a Yugoslavian
village. [4,3,6].
The work presents highlights of a seamlessly edited field
recording from a fixed perspective throughout one day,
emphasising the flow and sense of time. The sound events
themselves determine the actual compositional structure of
the piece, with the composer acting almost as a curator.
The above allows the carts, tractor engines and cowbells to
effectively speak for themselves, resulting in a soundscape
narrative that invites listeners to be inquisitive and
discerning. On one level, listeners can distinguish
individual sound objects and their relative spatial
attributes. And on another lever, listeners can freely
mingle in the soundscape, associating any arising thoughts
and memories evoked therein. Any knowledge we may “gain” as
a result is not, in this sense, necessarily discursive but
is more reflexive in nature.
Presque Rien n°1 invites one to be curious about
environmental sounds here, understood as having their own
agency and provenance. As a composition, the piece helps
establish a relationship between these sounds, the composer and
the listener. For Dōgen, the non-duality of this relationship
is paramount to resolve. From an absolute perspective, there is
no separation between us and the landscape, with humans and
non-humans intimately connected in a mutually supportive
ecology. By extension, there is no clear divide between
sentience and non-sentience, being conventional categories we
use to function in a phenomenal world. From a strictly zen
point of view, what is ultimately preaching is us, sermons
flowing out of our own intrinsic buddhahood. In other words,
what we are studying and listening to is the self. For the
composer and listener, the task is to be aware, which for Dōgen
is actualised in zazen practice. Here, zazen is no other than
the medium by which the conventional divides between human and
non-human is reduced. The spiritual ear required to hear the
sermons of tractor engines and wooden carts is enacted in this
attentiveness and made more transparent through repeat
listening.
Conclusion
This blog post sought to share a few thoughts on the
relationship between zen practice and soundscape
composition. The main takeaway of this exploration is the
importance of being inquisitive about the environment, and
what environmental sounds are ultimately expressing. The
soundscape, and its audible characteristics, are likened
here to a kalyāṇamitra (shanzhishi 善知識), a
“good friend,” a spiritual companion who encourages one to
keep practising and keep being focused on the task at hand.
Creative compositional choices can subsequently allow us as
practitioners to share what insights we have gained with
others, thereby acting as interpreters and communicators.
The above is with the intention of reducing the ultimately
unsatisfactory divides between self/not-self and
sentient/insentient.
References
[1] | Carl Bielefeldt. Treasury of the eye of the true dharma, book 46: The insentient preach the dharma (mujō seppō). Dharma Eye, 27:18--23, 2009. [ bib | .pdf ] |
[2] | Carl Bielefeldt. Treasury of the true dharma eye, book 25: Sound of the stream, form of the mountain (keisei sanshoku). Dharma Eye, 31:21--29, 2013. [ bib | .pdf ] |
[3] | John Levack Drever. Soundscape composition: The convergence of ethnography and acousmatic music. Organised Sound, 7(1):21--27, 2002. [ bib ] |
[4] | Luc Ferrari. Presque rien n°1, ou le lever du jour au bord de la mer (1967-1970). In Presque Rien. Recollection GRM (REGRM 005), Paris, 2012. Originally published in 1970. [ bib | http ] |
[5] | William F. Powell. The record of Tung-shan. University of Hawai'i Press, Honolulu, 1986. [ bib ] |
[6] | Barry Truax. Genres and techniques of soundscape composition as developed at simon fraser university. Organised Sound, 7(1):5--14, April 2002. [ bib | DOI | http ] |
[7] | Hildegard Westerkamp. Linking soundscape composition and acoustic ecology. Organised Sound, 7(1):51--56, April 2002. [ bib | DOI | http ] |
[8] | 釋果鏡. 佛教「無情說法」的學理探究--以聖嚴法師為例的現代應用. In 聖嚴教育基金會學術研究部, editor, 聖嚴研究, volume 9 of 聖嚴思想論叢, pages 7--50. 法鼓文化, 臺北, 2017. [ bib ] |