In a world full of tones, sounds and noises, hearing loss offers a unique opportunity - the instant discovery of a transforming universe that offers new perspectives on sound and perception. Profoundly hearing impaired in both ears since childhood, my life has always unfolded at the intersection of sound, silence and the technologies that bridge them.
What began as a medical necessity for a physical limitation has taken on new relevance in my perception of experimental art and music. Isn’t it strange and wonderful as well that creative ideas often comes from repurposing something that was once considered essential? It breaks away from the dichotomy of pathology and health and exists somewhere in between, or perhaps on the periphery, in those liminal areas where you can really think outside the box.
In art and music, hearing aids were initially seen as tools to help users perceive sound. Over time, however, artists and musicians began to recognize the creative potential of this technology. What began as a simple prosthesis evolved into a tool with the potential to distort, manipulate, and shape sound in new ways.
One of the first to explore this idea is Christina Kubisch, a German sound artist who began working with electromagnetic induction loops in the 1970s. Kubisch developed special hearing devices that allowed the wearer to make audible the electromagnetic fields that typically lie beyond human perception. These fields are ubiquitous in our modern world — generated by electrical devices, power lines, mobile phones, and other technologies that surround us, yet they usually remain unnoticed, hidden in silence.
With her specially crafted hearing devices that convert electromagnetic waves into sound, Kubisch creates a new sonic world that would otherwise remain inaccessible to listeners. Her most famous series, the “Electrical Walks,” invites people to wander through urban landscapes with these devices and experience the city in an entirely new way. Participants become explorers of an invisible dimension of sound, one that can only be experienced through the medium of technology. This “invisible music” reveals a soundscape that is normally inaccessible and blurs the boundaries between natural and artificial sounds.
In Kubisch’s art, the city itself becomes a living organism, whose hidden electromagnetic pulsing is made audible. These sounds are not “natural” in the traditional sense but are the product of human technology. Nevertheless, they possess a fascinating, often surprisingly musical quality. Kubisch’s works challenge us to go beyond the limits of our sensory perception and explore the potential of technology as an extension of our hearing. For me, as someone who relies on technology to hear at all, Kubisch’s work resonates deeply. It shows that our dependence on devices can be seen not only as a limitation but also as an opportunity to unlock new artistic spaces.
Kubisch’s “Electrical Walks” are thus more than just an artistic experiment; they are a meditation on the invisible forces that permeate our world and an invitation to immerse oneself in the soundscapes of everyday life. Her work makes clear how closely technology and art are intertwined and how they can together expand the boundaries of what it means to hear and experience.
Intersections of Art and Disability
Nowadays, the discussion surrounding disability and technology has reached new dimensions. Rather than viewing disability as a deficit, more and more artists and theorists are seeing it as a source of creative inspiration and innovation. This is not only a very nice development, but also a very exciting one, in my opinion. In recent years, artists and theorists like Amanda Cachia and Pauline Oliveros have played a pivotal role in redefining disability as a source of creative inspiration and innovation.
Amanda Cachia, a curator and art historian, has organized exhibitions that foster dialogue about disability and art by showcasing artists who use their disabilities not as limitations but as creative tools:
“Curating disability is about valuing difference, not overcoming it.”
The quote from Amanda Cachia’s article “Disabling the Museum: Curator as Infrastructural Activist,” published in the Journal of Visual Culture, discusses how museums and exhibitions can integrate disability to challenge existing structures and promote inclusive practices. She emphasizes that disability should not be seen as a deficit but as a valuable perspective that contributes to a richer, more diverse cultural practice.
Anyone who would like to take the time to explore this topic in more depth is welcome to view her online courses and presentations. I can only warmly recommend them (see the video below)!
Pauline Oliveros and the Art of Deep Listening
The American composer and sound artist Pauline Oliveros is another highly inspiring example of someone who has explored this intersection. Oliveros, who was herself hard of hearing, developed the concept of something you might probably already heard of: “Deep Listening,” a practice that focuses on the conscious hearing and deep perception of sound.
She became particularly known for founding the Deep Listening Band in 1988. This group, consisting of Oliveros, Stuart Dempster, and Panaiotis, played a crucial role in introducing and spreading the practice of Deep Listening. The spark for this concept was ignited by a particular experience: In 1988, they made a recording in an abandoned cistern in Washington, known for its extraordinary acoustics with a reverberation time of up to 45 seconds. This intense acoustic experience led Oliveros to reflect on the interaction between sound and time and how deep, conscious listening can open new levels of understanding music and environment.1
Oliveros developed the concept of Deep Listening as a form of “inner listening” that goes beyond the physical perception of sound. She recognized that the process of deep listening has a meditative quality, allowing people to focus fully on the present moment and the acoustic environment. This practice revolutionized how people perceived music and sound by introducing a form of listening that is both introspective and expansive. Oliveros conducted workshops, seminars, and performances in which she guided participants to experience sounds in a new, deeper way, often leading to altered consciousness and a more intense experience of the sound environment.
Nobody can deny that the impact of Deep Listening was particularly felt in sound art and the experimental music scene. It influenced numerous artists and composers who began to view sound not only as an aesthetic but also as a philosophical and spiritual phenomenon. The practice of Deep Listening encouraged the blurring of boundaries between listening and musical creation, between performer and audience, and opened new avenues for sound exploration and music-making.
Oliveros’ work emphasizes that listening is not merely a sensory, auditory activity but also an artistic and spiritual practice. By fully immersing oneself in the world of sound, one can experience an expanded awareness that transforms everyday sounds into profound artistic experiences. Her legacy lies in the ability to connect music, meditation, and listening, creating a new understanding of how we can interact with sound and our environment. Through Deep Listening, she has left a lasting impact on how we perceive and appreciate the sonic world around us.
In an article titled “Sounding Out: Pauline Oliveros and Lesbian Musicality,” author Martha Mockus highlights Oliveros’ profound influence on the world of experimental music and sound art, particularly through her concept of “deep listening.” Oliveros’ work with the Deep Listening Band and her development of “deep listening” as a practice pushed the boundaries of how sound is perceived and experienced, moving beyond traditional notions of music and performance. This concept is particularly powerful when considering the intersection of hearing impairment and creative practice.
Embrace & transform
I would like to emphasize that hearing impaired is not just a medical condition, but also an artistic chance. The work of artists like Christina Kubisch and Pauline Oliveros shows that hearing impairment is not a limitation, but a source of creative potential. By embracing the technology that shapes my experience of sound, I’ve discovered new ways to interact with the world and create art.
What began as a necessity has become an instrument, a tool for artistic expression and exploration. Through the hearing aid, I’ve been able to turn a perceived limitation into a source of strength.
Ultimately, I’m still on a journey to a deeper understanding of myself and my relationship with sound. It teaches me that the tools we use to navigate the world can also be the instruments through which we express our creativity. Hearing aids, once seen solely as medical devices, have become for me a bridge between silence and sound, disability and art, and necessity and innovation. Through this lens, I view my hearing impairment not as a limitation, but as a source of creative power and inspiration.
The incident refers to the recording of the Deep Listening Band in the Fort Worden Cistern in Port Townsend, Washington, in 1988. The cistern is an underground water tank that offers a reverberation time of around 45 seconds, providing an extraordinary acoustic environment for experimenting with sound. A detailed account can be found in Pauline Oliveros’s writings, particularly in her book *Deep Listening: A Composer’s Sound Practice* (2005), where she extensively describes the experiences and philosophy behind Deep Listening.
I feel very much aligned with everything you say here. The examples you give will be a great help for me as I'm embarking in a 6 months journey to create a conference about disability, art and the power of vulnerability.
What Christina Kubish is doing is very interesting because it shows the so-called "able" people their own limitations and the world outside of those.
This is only the fist post I'm reading from you & I can't wait to read the rest. (and thx for the follow btw!)