The Hubble ‘space opera’

3Q: Paola Prestini

Hubble image of the Orion Nebula, at 1,500 light-years away, the nearest star-forming region to Earth. The bright glow at upper left is from M43, a small region being shaped by a massive, young star's ultraviolet light.

Hubble image of the Orion Nebula, the nearest star-forming region to Earth.{credit}NASA, ESA, M. Robberto (Space Telescope Science Institute/ESA) and the Hubble Space Telescope Orion Treasury Project Team.{/credit}

In 2012, composer Paola Prestini began collaborating with astrophysicist Mario Livio — who worked at the Hubble Space Telescope’s operations centre from 1991 to 2015 — on a “space opera” celebrating the instrument’s 25th anniversary. The result, The Hubble Cantata, debuted on the telescope’s 26th. Performed on 6 August at the BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn! festival in New York City’s Prospect Park, it is a multidimensional paean to the ‘eye in the sky’, meshing Livio’s narration with performances by Norwegian orchestra 1B1, a 100-strong chorus and Metropolitan opera stars Jessica Rivera and Nathan Gunn, and a climax featuring a 3D virtual-reality (VR) experience incorporating Hubble images that allows viewers to drift through the Orion Nebula. Here Prestini talks about the joys and challenges of putting together a highly collaborative meld of science and art.

What inspired this project?

About four years ago, I was asked by the nonprofit Bay Chamber Concerts — who were in touch with Matt Mountain, then-head of Hubble operations centre the Space Telescope Science Institute — to create a piece commemorating the telescope’s legacy and anniversary. I began to read what Mario Livio had written on his blog, and after meeting, we began to pull together a loose narrative. With the librettist Royce Vavrek, I realised that Mario could become the inspiration for the opera’s main character. What emerged from our collaboration with Mario was a cantata drawing connections between human loss, love and sorrow, and the life cycle of a star. We decided that Mario would narrate and be the voice of the lead character, an astrophysicist who had lost his wife; there would be an adult choir, children’s choir and orchestra. No Hubble images would be used until the ending, which would culminate in a VR work exploring the beauty and depth of Hubble images. I began to record Livio, and that was the launch of the cooperation.

Of the performance

Dancer Wendy Whelan projected on a scrim at the debut performance of The Hubble Cantata; singers Jessica Rivera and Nathan Gunn can be seen behind.{credit}Sasha Arutyunova{/credit}

How does your composition incorporate science?

Both in its premise, of course, and in the technological underpinnings that have gone into creating it. I worked with sound designer Terence Caulkins from engineering firm Arup to create the 3D soundscape. To present the experience outdoors, in particular for the VR experience, we needed to create an immersive experience that gives the impression sounds are moving around and through the audience space. We mixed the music in a spatialized sound format called Ambisonics, which can be used for various loudspeaker layouts. For example, in its Soundlab Arup has a sphere of loudspeakers that allows you to place sounds around, above and below listeners to enhance the VR effect. Ambisonic sound can also be mixed down to “binaural”, which is a 360-degree sound format for headphones. (This is what people downloading our free app, Fistful of Stars, will hear.) For the performance, we designed a concentric eight-point loudspeaker system surrounding the audience. The electronic narration sequences include Mario speaking about everything from baryonic matter to extra-solar life. Filmmaker Eliza McNitt created the virtual-reality film in collaboration with the Endless Collective. This is a five-minute VR video that gives a 360-degree tour through space, comprising CGI-animated Hubble imagery of the Orion Nebula. We found a company to sponsor cardboard virtual-reality glasses for audience members.

What is it like for you as an artist to work with scientists?

Astrophysicist Mario Livio, composer Paola Prestini and librettist Royce Vavrek (L to R).

Astrophysicist Mario Livio, composer Paola Prestini and librettist Royce Vavrek (L to R).{credit}Jill Steinberg{/credit}

It’s great fun. It’s fascinating to think about our creative processes and how different they are. Mario has worked with the Baltimore Symphony as a narrator for performances, but never really deeply in a music collaborative process before this one. There’s a great deal of learning going on for all of us. He needed to trust that we were going to bring these massive concepts to fruition, so there was a lot of back and forth. He is able to explain super-complex concepts, such as dark matter, to musicians; setting these texts as simple narrations was important to me so that they could be clearly understood. Hubble’s legacy and what it has done for our understanding of the Universe is at the core of our drive to give it a musical life. The loss of communication between loved ones in the cantata storyline is echoed by the expansion of the Universe “at the rate of our imagination” (something Mario often says). Yet as the fictional astrophysicist’s understanding of the Universe deepens, he reconstructs his wife’s story and understands her better. Woven together, those twin threads in the piece — the rarity of life in the grand cosmic scene, and Hubble’s revelation of that scene — connect human and cosmic scenarios, revealing realities that may exist at vastly different scales, but that are each vastly important.

Interview by Jeff Tollefson, a reporter for Nature based in Washington DC. He tweets at @jefftollef.

Paola Prestini is currently in conversation with several producers in the United States and overseas about presenting The Hubble Cantata again. The piece will be released as a recording by VIA Records and as a short film by an as-yet unnanounced distributor.

 

For Nature’s full coverage of science in culture, visit www.nature.com/news/booksandarts.

Speaking volumes

2016 04 12_THIS IS A VOICE_Wellcome Collection 2

{credit}Wellcome Collection{/credit}

Posted on behalf of Ewen Callaway

A couple of months into my first reporting job, I wrote the story “Neanderthal speaks out after 30,000 years”. A research team had synthesized the voice of a Neanderthal by inferring the dimensions of the larynxes of three individuals. All they managed was a single vowel – a gruff ‘ee’ – but they used it to claim that Neanderthals could not utter a kind of vowel sound that is common to all human languages.

I was reminded of this story, still probably my most-read piece, as I entered This is a Voice, a compelling but sometimes scattershot exhibition on the human voice – from material qualities to meaning to myth – that opened last week at London’s Wellcome Collection.

Voice disguiser used by the Tiv people of Nigeria.

Voice disguiser used by the Tiv people of Nigeria.{credit}Pitt Rivers Museum{/credit}

“As early hominin groups became larger and physical grooming was no longer an efficient form of bonding, the voice kept individuals emotionally connected by creating alliances and group dynamics,” reads an introductory text, which goes on to explain that early humans sang in choruses to ward off predators.
Maybe so.

In the same gallery there sits: a nineteenth-century model of the larynx, a 2,600-year-old siren-shaped vase and a voice-manipulating device called an imborivungu, which the Tiv people of Nigeria once used to simulate the sounds of spirits — a duck call for deities, if you will. I was trying to piece this all together when my thoughts were interrupted by birdsong, or at least that’s what I thought the chirps were.

Dawn Chorus, an installation by artist Marcus Coates, is a series of video screens of sped-up footage showing people in everyday scenarios: their lounge, a doctor’s waiting room, their cars. These volunteers were played a dawn chorus of birdsong slowed down 16 times and instructed to imitate them. Their fast-forwarded facsimiles blared over loudspeakers. “If Darwin had this ability to speed up and slow down sounds, he would have found these amazing parallels” between birdsong and the human voice, Coates told a group of reporters at the press viewing. Maybe so.

This is a Voice intentionally keeps information to a minimum to encourage visitors to use their ears. And although headphones, clever listening walls with built-in private speakers, and isolation chambers fill the exhibit, the acoustic onslaught can be overwhelming. The trilling of Coates’ bird-men and women followed me through the first half of the show.

That was hard to ignore while I watched Dolmen Music, a mesmerizing 1981 composition by Meredith Monk. Female vocalists sway back and forth in their chairs as they produce ethereal sounds over the strains of a lone cello. Artist Emma Smith’s 5Hz offered respite from the birds.

5HZ, by Emma Smith.

5HZ, by Emma Smith.{credit}Max McClure{/credit}

Broadcast in over wireless headphones in a small octagonal room, the project is a 13-minute lesson in a language called 5hz; she created it with the help of psychologists and neuroscientists, who provided data on how the human brain responds to different vocal stimuli. The exhibit explains that the language is designed to enhance social bonding. What better way to bring strangers together than to crowd them into a small room and make them rehearse gibberish in unison?

The pieces that best convey the power of the human voice are about people struggling with their own or those of others. Filmmaker and audio producer Chris Chapman’s Avatar Therapy for Distressing Voices is a demonstration of a treatment developed by psychiatrist Julian Leff whereby people confront avatars that sound like people who have tormented them in the past. In the short film, a young woman (who is not visible) confronts a deep-voiced older male avatar who has just told her she is worthless. Chapman’s documentary Voice and Identity profiles two individuals who have experienced gender transitions, including voice-altering hormone treatments.

Avatar Therapy for Voice Hearers, Chris Chapman.

The Avatar Therapy for Distressing Voices, Chris Chapman.

This is a Voice ends in a red-velvet-cloaked room with a small recording booth inside it. Those who enter are greeted by a microphone and instructions to press a button and hold a single note for as long as they can. The recording is then added to a snowballing chorus that plays in parallel at the Royal Opera House across town in Covent Garden.

As I sang my best ‘Ahhhhh’ I couldn’t help but think that I, like many of the others who contributed to the song, carry a sliver of DNA inherited from Neanderthals. Scientists may have synthesised one of their prehistoric vowels – but why speak when you can sing?

Ewen Callaway is a reporter in Nature’s London office. He tweets at @ewencallaway. Listen in to a Nature podcast on This Is a Voice here

This Is a Voice runs at the Wellcome Collection at 183 Euston Road, London, through 31 July; it then tours to the Powerhouse, Sydney, in 2017.

 

For Nature’s full coverage of science in culture, visit www.nature.com/news/booksandarts.

 

 

 

Audiofile: Music and the making of science

Posted on behalf of Kerri Smith

© World History Archive / AlamyIs music simply a pleasant accompaniment to thought, or a driving force behind it? The third episode of Nature’s new podcast series on science and sound, Audiofile, examines music’s influence on the development of modern science and the foundations of acoustics (as did our essay series). It also suggests a tantalizing link between Galileo’s scientific mindset and his upbringing: his father, Vincenzo, was a lute maker who conducted what some suggest are the first experiments in acoustics. Father might have inspired in son the idea of measuring a physical system and producing a hypothesis from it.

Scientists often search for harmony and beauty, if not explicitly. But the link between music and other scholarly pursuits used to be much stronger. For centuries the Western academic curriculum blended music and science to a degree rarely experienced by today’s undergraduates. Students were taught the quadrivium: arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music.

Musical analogies continue to help scientists make sense of tricky concepts, as historian of science Jim Bennett explains in the podcast. “The insight – which plausibly came from music – that the world has a mathematical blueprint is fundamental to science.”

For more, listen to the episode or subscribe to the Nature Podcast.

For Books and Arts coverage of scientists and artists working with sound, see Q&As with electronic musician and computer scientist Tom Mitchell, audio sculptor Bill Fontana, acoustic archaeologist Rupert Till, sound artist Daniel Jones and bioacoustician Bernie Krause.  

For Nature’s full coverage of science in culture, visit www.nature.com/news/booksandarts.