17 - Singing Frogs, Looping the Slam

Summary

Those who had passed through the doors of Midtown – and, almost invariably – other institutions repeatedly, were sometimes more dismissive of my line of enquiry. The phrase ‘singing frogs’ came from a conversation with David, a governor visiting from Bermuda. He was somewhat resistant to the idea prisons were noisy, but tacitly understood the role acclimation played in this. He was too deeply embedded within the rhythms of the institution to consciously discern them.

Sound was heavily implicated in processes of institutionalization. Prompting people to reflect on their shifting interpretations of the soundscape provided a means of assessing both their degree of familiarity with the environment and feelings about the place and people within it. For some, familiarity with the prison soundscape reflected sustained contact with a broader range of institutions with which its clangs and bangs reverberated. For others, the soundscape was a particularly harsh aspect of the environment, compounding and exacerbating other conditions, including ASD and PTSD.

While waiting for staff to assemble for a security meeting, I sat with David. He enquired about what I was doing and expressed incredulity that I held keys and seemed to move around with freedom. When I explained my purpose, he responded:

‘I’ve never thought of prisons as noisy places. I still don't but it reminds me of friends we have who visit from Canada. They can't sleep at night for the singing frogs, they go all through the night and make a racket. We’re so accustomed to it we don't hear it.

’The exchange between David and I raised a central point: does sound matter if it is not perceived as significant by those you speak with? And if so, why and how? When I asked how he relaxed, he said: “I like to unwind, no talking. Sometimes I like to just drive around. If I go straight back home, I’m a different person.” His dismissal of the significance of prison noise was contradicted by his use of sound (and space) as part of his shedding ritual. Manipulating his sonic environment was crucial for David, in guarding against ‘spillover’ of his work life into his private life. Curating his soundscape allowed him to leave the prison behind, to ‘shed’ it (Crawley, 2004).