A Little Piece of Quiet
BY JOHN ETRA
VOGUE, October 1988
The North Pole is quiet, especially in March. There's nothing but
the sounds of the wind. The White House is quiet; the silence is like
the center of a hurricane. Ridgeway, Colorado, is quiet, says Diane
Wolf, a U.S. Commissioner of Fine Ans. "Our ranch is next to Ralph
Lauren's. Ralph doesn't make a lot of noise."
TV producer Nikki Haskell likes yachts. "The Patience II anchored
out-side of Sag Harbor is very quiet, so is The Sea Goddess—a bit
too quiet. The Marcos yacht was not: Madame Marcos loved to sing, she
sang all the time. Her favorite was Feelings.
A town house is quiet, it you own it all. A New York City attorney
has one with eighteen- foot-high coffered ceilings. "The only noise is
the occasional rumble of the private elevator around dinner time," he
says, Museums are quiet. Libraries are quiet, Cemeteries are quiet, but
also depressing.
Another New Yorker, an art dealer, was an distressed by urban
uproar; he had a concrete bomb shelter constructed in his living room.
Inside it was quiet, but he found the rest of the city unbearable. He
moved to a desolate section of Maine. Then flight patterns were
changed, jets passed overhead. He moved to rural Pennsylvania. where he
remains, So far.
The world was never particularly quiet.
Dinosaurs were by no means sedate; and after them, mammoths,
mastodons, and aurochs made a bother. Even without people, innumerable
birds and assorted other fauna screeched, bellowed, and howled day and
night. Julius Caesar tried unsuccessfully to ban daytime speeding al
chariots over Rome's cobblestones. Sybarites of 600 B.C. excluded
black-smiths, cabinetmakers, and other noisy artisans from working in
residential areas. The deity Eulil got fed up with Babylon's hubbub.
"The noises of mankind have stirred my anger," he announced, and raised
the Great Flood. Heaven knows what he would do today in Los Angeles.
With luck and planning, quiet once was obtainable. Today, noise
follows you everywhere; radios, horns. alarms, sirens, stereos, phones,
banging pipes, dogs, cats, fights, parties, Parades- planes, boats,
snowmobiles, all-terrain vehicles, trucks, motorcycles, lawnmowers,
Muzak, construction, demolition, and the ubiquitous garbage collection.
The courtesy that once applied to noise has departed. Engines roar,
radios thunder, parties boom and quake with no concern for the hour. As
loud noise decreases hearing sensitivity, the increasingly deaf keep
raising the volume in an attempt not to miss anything. A cheering song,
a soothing hum comfort and protect; but at a certain point sound
becomes an imposition.
In "Psychopathology of the Hi-Fi Addict," H. Angus Bowes, M.D..
notes, "The less organized will treat their hi-fi... as an expression
of aggression, as a power symbol. To many, [it] has a sexual con
notation." Aggression and sex seem to be a major component in the
ongoing noise phenomenon: loud cars, big radios, huge gun, fired
noisily by men like Rambo.
We may all need help. Some action should be considered. The Mabaan
tribe of the Sudan, who live in an environment of virtual silence, have
significantly lower blood pressure and no coronary heart disease.
Mental hospital admissions are 30 percent higher among people living
near the noise of the Los Angeles Airport. Adults living near Soviet
airports have two to four times the norm of ear, nose and throat
disease, cardio-vascular disease, nervous disorders and stomach
problems; children suffer from increased fatigue, blood pressure
abnormalities and cardiac insufficiency. Achievement test scores for
low and middle-aptitude students show progressive deterioration in
schools exposed to aircraft sound. People have been driven to extremes
and have even started shooting at each other to stop the noise.
Alan Fierstein, president of Acoustilog,
Inc , is frequently brought in as an acoustical consultant. "Neighbors
are at each others’ throats. One hears footsteps overhead:
another complains about the piano; things escalate. If they want blood,
Fierstein can be an expert witness.
Armed with a stethoscope and portable spectrum analyzer, he
tracks down all the frequencies—including many that can't be
heard—and recommends ways to eliminate or contain them. "Less
than 5 percent of all city buildings are built the right way. Floors
are not made to prevent noise. Wood transmits sound. Carpets are
frequently Ineffective in preventing sound from leaving or coming in ".
Fierstein works against long-standing misconceptions. "Common
sense is often not the right way. People put in a ceiling on the advice
of contractors but it’s the wrong ceiling; it doesn't work, and
everyone gets mad. "There are ways to solve problems," he states, and
my cost is not prohibitive. Ceilings can be hung on springs with rubber
clips. Caulking and felt line the inside; insulation fills the space
in-between. Floors can be built up the same way. Walls can be filled
with insulation and fiber-glass sprayed on to absorb reverberation.
Double and triple windows screen outside noise.
Fierstein redesigned the apartment of a horn player for Blood.
Sweat Tears so he could practice without disturbing neighbors.
Currently, he is advising the City of New York on how to make meeting
rooms in City Hall less reverberant. Apparently, people can’t
understand what's being said.
For real quiet, one still must get away from the city
—Wherever there are phones, there's noise, observes Diane Wolf.
"Al Little Dix Bay, there are no phones in the rooms. There are only
four in the whole place. At Jumby Bay, there are only six. I searched
them out, one by one." Wolf is a confessed phone addict. "Spas are
quiet, adds Nikki Haskell "At the Golden Door. you can hear the fat
falling off. Haskell, who specializes in being a houseguest rather than
a paying guest, says the glass-enclosed pool of the Di Portanova home
in Houston is very quiet. Stan Herman's house in Malibu is consistently
quiet. Finally. There is her mother's house in Beverly Hills. "That's
where it’s really quiet. She's always out."
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