[Dixielandjazz] Muso Hearing Loss - Loud Music

[Stephen Barbone]

Often we talk about muso hearing loss with jazz or rock musicians. Here
is the parallel article about hearing loss with Symphonic Musicians. No
wonder we don't often agree on how a band should sound. We can't hear.

NOT OKOM but A GOOD READ though LONG.

Cheers,
Steve (WHAT) Barbone


January 11, 2004 - NY Times

The Shushing of the Symphony

By JAMES R. OESTREICH

       Colin Davis and the London Symphony Orchestra will bring a ruckus
to Avery Fisher Hall next Sunday, when they present the first of three
programs, a concert version of Benjamin Britten's 1945 opera "Peter
Grimes."

As opera lovers know, there are moments of exquisite poignancy, lyricism
and mystery in this tale of an ambiguous lout of a
fisherman accused of murdering his apprentice. But there are also
clamorous outbursts deploying not only a large chorus of
excitable townsfolk but also the full resources of a 20th-century
orchestra, greatly expanded in technological prowess over its
already potent Wagnerian predecessor. In short, the listening experience
can be — should be — loud.

For the performers the experience is even louder. As always, music is in
the ear of the beholder, and for those who behold it
most closely, those who make it, it can prove a form of mild torture.

The potentially harmful impact of sheer decibels, many times amplified,
on the ears of rock musicians and audiences has
received wide attention over recent decades. The problem in the more
genteel precincts of the symphony orchestra is less
apparent to those outside the profession.

But it has bubbled to the surface recently with press accounts of a new
regulation imposed by the European Union that reduces
the allowable sound exposure in the European orchestral workplace from
the present 90 decibels to 85. The problem is, a
symphony orchestra playing full-out can easily reach 96 to 98 decibels,
and certain brass and percussion instruments have
registered 130 to 140 at close range.

The directive — issued last February and intended to protect all
workers, orchestral musicians included — specifies a daily
"upper exposure action value" of 85 decibels, amid a welter of other
provisions. It acknowledges "the particular characteristics
of the music and entertainment sectors." It allows discretion to member
states to use averaging, specifying a weekly exposure
limit of 87 decibels, and to allow a transition period for
implementation.

Orchestras are just now beginning to figure out what effect it might
have. "We're in the embryonic stage," Colin Paris, a double
bassist and the vice chairman of the London Symphony, said last week
from London. "It's a slow process, but my
understanding is that we have to be there sometime in 2006. There are
many difficult issues, because venues vary, and the music
itself flows from loud to soft."

The problem of hearing loss, stemming both from the player's own
instrument and from those of others, is a real one among
classical musicians worldwide. Hearing loss may manifest itself as a
decreased ability to perceive high frequencies or slight
changes in pitch. It may also extend to tinnitus, a buzzing or ringing
in the ear. But as pervasive as hearing loss may be, it's
rarely discussed. Performers are reluctant to mention it, or any other
work-related ailment, for fear of losing their standing in the
field or their employability.

"What is beyond dispute is that musicians suffer more damage than
age-matched, unselected, controls, and brass and woodwind
suffer significantly more than the strings," Alison Wright Reid, an
occupational safety expert, wrote in "A Sound Ear," a widely
cited study published in 1999 for the Association of British Orchestras.
"Because of the tiny sample sizes, it is difficult to be
sure of the percussion, but those players with hearing damage are
typically worse than the brass."

The problem has grown over the centuries, as composers seeking to expand
their expressive possibilities have pushed for ever
greater contrast in dynamics; whereas a simple "piano" or "forte" would
suffice for Bach, when he bothered to use dynamic
markings at all, Tchaikovsky progressed to the likes of pppppp
(pianissississississimo, but who's counting?) and ffff in his
"Pathétique" Symphony. And instruments have been modernized and fitted
out to carry better in larger halls. Whether
composers or instrument makers led the way at any particular moment, the
direction in classical music has been the same as that
in rock and musical theater: louder.

It is difficult to impose legislative rigor in an area in which artistic
impulses collide with scientific pseudo-certainties and
psychological and emotional imponderables. Consider another statement
from "A Sound Ear": "It does, indeed, appear that
pleasing noise causes less hearing damage than random noise, so
musicians may be at less risk than is supposed. However, the
studies also show that music which is disliked, or just plain boring,
causes more harm than random noise. Furthermore, the
nice/nasty risk modification is related to levels of stress in the
listener."

But one aspect of the problem is clear: Although any instrument can
endanger the hearing of the person who plays it,
percussion and brass instruments and an interloper from the woodwinds,
the piccolo, inflict the most damage on other
musicians.

Susan Welty, who has played French horn for the Atlanta Symphony
Orchestra for 16 seasons, has amassed an unusually rich
perspective. Having spent most of her time directly in front of the
trumpets and trombones, she now sits ahead of the percussion section.

The trombones are the worst, she says, especially the bass trombone,
which she calls the most powerful instrument in the
orchestra. "Either he goes or I go," she declared once, when seated only
two feet from the bass trombonist during Stravinsky's
pummeling "Rite of Spring." They both went, to a distance of five feet.

The percussionists, on the other hand, tend to play in briefer bursts.
"You know when to cringe and when to cover your ears,"
Ms. Welty said.

More sophisticated defenses have long been available, but each has its
flaws. The most common is the use of earplugs specially
made for musicians (and sometimes custom-made for individuals). But
though they have been a boon to players, it seems
possible that they have made matters worse overall.

The heaviest use of earplugs that I have seen onstage came in Chicago
Symphony performances of Shostakovich conducted by
Mstislav Rostropovich at the Symphony Center in 1999. The performances
also produced some of the loudest and crudest
orchestral playing I have heard. As anyone who has ever tried to speak
while listening to headphones — and accidentally ended
up shouting — knows, it can be difficult to gauge your own volume if you
can't actually hear it.

Most players, recognizing that awkwardness, use earplugs selectively,
perhaps just for the cringe-making passages. But the
sight of players repeatedly inserting things into their ears and then
removing them is not only distracting; it sends the audience
the odd message that players are trying to avoid the sound they're
making.

Another method that orchestras have experimented with is plexiglass
screens — like larger, transparent music stands — placed
in front of the loudest instruments, to buffer their sound. The New York
Philharmonic used to use them, but according to Carl
Schiebler, the orchestra's personnel manager, they proved to be of
limited value. They tended to let low frequencies through and
reflect the rest of the sound in unwanted directions. As a result, the
Philharmonic has stopped using them altogether.

Several orchestras have undertaken larger structural adjustments, like
installing risers to lift the line of fire above the most
vulnerably placed ears. But that can alter the musical balance and
blend. More open spacing onstage may do the same. In all of
these matters, the role of the conductor becomes crucial, to keep one
player from fading out, another from overcompensating.

In this country, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration takes
a more hands-off attitude toward orchestras than the
European Union. "We don't basically get involved with them," Francis
Meilinger, an OSHA spokesman said. Here, too,
orchestras fall under the agency's general guidelines for the workplace,
which allow a 90 decibel level over an eight-hour day,
and a 97 decibel limit over three hours. Since American orchestras work
relatively short days, and the peaks of sound are merely intermittent,
they don't represent a particular concern in this regard.

OSHA did respond to an anonymous complaint from a player in the
Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra about a clangorous
contemporary piece in 1985, but the agency found no violation of
standards.

Though more stringent in its guidelines, the European Union has been
less than clear about how to implement them. Is an
orchestra to play more quietly even as Wagner or Mahler urges it toward
a cataclysmic fortissimo? Is it to avoid the offending
works altogether, thus dispensing with most of the symphonic literature
of the 20th century? Are composers of the 21st century
to scale back their dynamic demands, in the process putting any number
of brass players and percussionists out of work? And
how is it all to be monitored and enforced?

Only mildly daunted, European orchestras are now working to find new
solutions. The London Symphony, like many of its
counterparts, has formed a "noise team," consisting of players from the
various sections and a representative of the Barbican
Center, the orchestra's home. According to Mr. Paris, the vice chairman,
the team has so far concentrated on logistical matters,
including the possibility of a stage extension to allow for roomier
seating. Repertory issues will be dealt with later. And though
there is no specific provision in the directive for a traveling
workplace, like an orchestral tour, the London Symphony will bring
its own plexiglass screens to the stage of Avery Fisher Hall.

As that orchestra completes its run there on Jan. 21, the Staatskapelle
Berlin begins a series of Schumann concerts at Carnegie
with its music director, Daniel Barenboim. The Staatskapelle's
spokesmen, Matthias Glander, a clarinetist, and Egbert
Schimmelpfennig, a cellist, describe practical measures similar to those
being explored by the London Symphony. But they
already have their backs up on the issue of repertory.

"There is a new and very tough regulation that if applied would impede
the performance of works by composers like Wagner,
Mahler and Strauss," they wrote in a joint e-mail message, "but since we
are musicians and not civil servants, we will go on
playing Wagner and Strauss (who, incidentally, both conducted the
orchestra, with Strauss being its music director for 20 years) while
adequately installing . . . measures where possible and sensible."

Perhaps surprisingly, in view of such incipient defiance, one of the
measures being considered is "the possibility to adapt the
orchestration for different works (a Mahler symphony, e.g.) to the
different stages the orchestra plays on to ensure a minimum
noise level." Not that Mahler — himself an inveterate tinkerer with the
works of his predecessors — could very well complain.

Amid confusion over the new directive, early commentators have suggested
that the ruling would in effect regulate an orchestra's
average sonic output over some extended period, rather than banning any
specific piece that spikes above the limit. "Managers
will have to decide what noisy works are played when," David Ward wrote,
reporting on the directive in The Guardian of
London last August. "This could involve grading works according to
noise, causing headaches for program schedulers."

To say the least. Imagine trading Haydn's subdued "Seven Last Words of
Christ" one week for Messiaen's exuberant
"Turangalila Symphony" the next. And those are merely the longer works.
How does one combination of shorter works — say,
Corigliano, Mendelssohn and Wagner — stack up against another, of Reich,
Schumann and Prokofiev? And what could pay
back the decibels lavished on Varèse's "Amériques"?

In matters of artistic direction as in matters of balance and blend, the
responsibility ultimately comes back to the conductor, who
injects another mystery into the tale.

It might seem that any danger would also fall to the conductor, who is
exposed to the full sonic blast of the orchestra at close
range. Yet no major case of damage to a conductor's hearing has come to
light of late, and many of the profession's most
admired figures are in their 60's or 70's. Pierre Boulez, for example,
an old hand who trades largely in big, sonorous scores,
remains famous for his hair-trigger ears and his subtlety of detail.

Still, perhaps a touch of hearing loss could explain why other
conductors seem able to produce only loudness, in varying
degrees. As Mr. Boulez and others regularly prove, decibels in
themselves are a paltry goal. A greater effect can often be created
at a lower volume through sheer intensity and focus.

There are undoubtedly audience members who would like things to quiet
down a bit, too. Music professionals, immersed in a
tremendous visceral experience, are often puzzled to hear listeners say
that orchestral music helps them relax, or to see that it
puts them to sleep.

But for the rest of us, classical music is anything but relaxing: it's
thrilling; it's heartbreaking; it's terrifying; it's blissful. And
volume, even volume that sometimes singes the ears, is an ineluctable
part of that experience. So whatever accommodations are
made to protect the people who make music, let those of us who consume
it revel in sound, color, contrast, intensity and, yes,
glorious noise.