Cultural Crescendo (a global cadence mix)
by Genaro Oliveira
January 2024
by Genaro Oliveira
January 2024
This is one of four playlists that emerged from an experiment where four academic authors documented and then reflected upon the ways that music shaped their writing spaces. They did this while separately working on book chapters for the edited collection, 'Postdigital Learning Spaces: Towards Convivial, Equitable and Sustainable Spaces of Learning'. Elsewhere on this site you will find the playlists compiled by David Overend, James Lamb and John Potter, the other authors involved in this project. The playlists are each presented alongside a reflective commentary, like the one below, that were written as part of the experiment. A fuller account of this exercise is offered within the Postdigital Learning Spaces book which is due to be published by Springer during summer 2024.
I only began noticing the connection between my writing and my listening after a significant transition at my workplace. In the past, I had consistently embraced a "monastic" approach to my academic work. A complete silence and isolation were essential for me to focus on any writing tasks. My single-cell office served as an ideal sanctuary for this writing habit. It provided the visual and acoustic seclusion that I believed was a prerequisite for putting words into screen. However, everything changed when our Institute of Education was relocated to a newer building. In this new open-plan setting, the traditional arrangement of individual offices came to an end. Instead, I found myself assigned to a small desk in large room, shared by approximately 30 other colleagues. The once serene atmosphere I used to have turned into a buzz of collective typing, collegial conversations, mobile ringtones, “excuse-mes”, and other office noise. Maintaining my previous level of focus was increasingly challenging and hindered my ability to concentrate on writing tasks.
This shift from a single cell office to a shared workspace marked a turning point in my relationship with writing and sounds. To adapt to this environment, one instinctive decision was to invest in a noise-canceling headphone. The idea proved effective. I initially relied on Spotify’s many playlists of “white noise” for focus, especially sounds of nature simulating rain and forest birds. These ambience sounds, added to the noise cancelling technology, created a sort of cocoon of focus. In hindsight, my choice for boring ‘white noise’ playlists (not the many eclectic rhythms and artists I enjoy) probably had to do with my recent journey into fatherhood. The use of white noise had been means to soothe my daughters to sleep.
Yet, little did I know that this experience of incorporating sounds in the background to enhance focus remained a constant in my life. I still work in a shared office, for the same university, but now at a different city. There are “breakout rooms” available. But glass walls provide precarious sound isolation. I still rely very much on my (now worn-out) headphones to drown out the background noise and maintain my productivity. Additionally, now that I increasingly work from my home office, I face the challenge of balancing my focus with caring for my kids. In this post-pandemic work setting, both headphones and computer speakers have become indispensable tools, adeptly silencing the external street noise and the playful commotion of kids within the house.
When I start any new academic writing, like this one, I typically go through a period of several weeks of informal brainstorming of ideas and thoughts in my head. This is a gradual and non-linear process, which often coincides with my long walks, for exercise and slow down.These happen usually around my suburb in Auckland, and after I've put my daughters to bed. During these walks, I listen to randomly eclectic music playlists and political/history-themed podcasts, which serve as a catalyst for my thoughts. This process is further described in the first log, which I detail the multi-week informal exploration of diverse playlists on Spotify.
In the other days, I relied a lot on instrumental songs, especially piano and guitar playlists. On July 25th, I stumbled upon the "Musica instrumental para estudiar" playlist, a Spotify suggestion, after failing to find instrumental songs by Spanish artist Joaquin Sabina. That same day, after getting distracted while connecting with students who went to São Paulo, I ended up listening to a playlist of songs by Brazilian rapper Crioulo from that same city.
The next day (July 26th), I followed the recommendation of a friend (also from São Paulo) and listened to the Asc. Scorpio Radio playlist. The friend described it as her "lonely place". On July28th, I tried listening to white noise (forest ambience) playlist. But to my surprise, I found absolutely annoying and distracting to my writing flow that day. Therefore, I quickly switched to a soothing classical piano playlist, which worked really well for focus.
In the last three days of writing, my musical journey inclided the album "PretoBrás" from the vanguard Brazilian artist Itamar Assumção, a Spotify-made playlists of relaxing classical guitar melodies, the titled “Chill list”.
Reflecting on the music I chose during this writing exercise, I realise that many of the songs I listened to were heavily influenced by my trip to São Paulo. During my time there, I reconnected to Brazilian music from that region and also received music recommendations from local friends.
Genaro Oliveira is a lecturer in education at Massey University, specialising in social sciences, history and digital pedagogies.
I only began noticing the connection between my writing and my listening after a significant transition at my workplace. In the past, I had consistently embraced a "monastic" approach to my academic work. A complete silence and isolation were essential for me to focus on any writing tasks. My single-cell office served as an ideal sanctuary for this writing habit. It provided the visual and acoustic seclusion that I believed was a prerequisite for putting words into screen. However, everything changed when our Institute of Education was relocated to a newer building. In this new open-plan setting, the traditional arrangement of individual offices came to an end. Instead, I found myself assigned to a small desk in large room, shared by approximately 30 other colleagues. The once serene atmosphere I used to have turned into a buzz of collective typing, collegial conversations, mobile ringtones, “excuse-mes”, and other office noise. Maintaining my previous level of focus was increasingly challenging and hindered my ability to concentrate on writing tasks.
This shift from a single cell office to a shared workspace marked a turning point in my relationship with writing and sounds. To adapt to this environment, one instinctive decision was to invest in a noise-canceling headphone. The idea proved effective. I initially relied on Spotify’s many playlists of “white noise” for focus, especially sounds of nature simulating rain and forest birds. These ambience sounds, added to the noise cancelling technology, created a sort of cocoon of focus. In hindsight, my choice for boring ‘white noise’ playlists (not the many eclectic rhythms and artists I enjoy) probably had to do with my recent journey into fatherhood. The use of white noise had been means to soothe my daughters to sleep.
Yet, little did I know that this experience of incorporating sounds in the background to enhance focus remained a constant in my life. I still work in a shared office, for the same university, but now at a different city. There are “breakout rooms” available. But glass walls provide precarious sound isolation. I still rely very much on my (now worn-out) headphones to drown out the background noise and maintain my productivity. Additionally, now that I increasingly work from my home office, I face the challenge of balancing my focus with caring for my kids. In this post-pandemic work setting, both headphones and computer speakers have become indispensable tools, adeptly silencing the external street noise and the playful commotion of kids within the house.
When I start any new academic writing, like this one, I typically go through a period of several weeks of informal brainstorming of ideas and thoughts in my head. This is a gradual and non-linear process, which often coincides with my long walks, for exercise and slow down.These happen usually around my suburb in Auckland, and after I've put my daughters to bed. During these walks, I listen to randomly eclectic music playlists and political/history-themed podcasts, which serve as a catalyst for my thoughts. This process is further described in the first log, which I detail the multi-week informal exploration of diverse playlists on Spotify.
In the other days, I relied a lot on instrumental songs, especially piano and guitar playlists. On July 25th, I stumbled upon the "Musica instrumental para estudiar" playlist, a Spotify suggestion, after failing to find instrumental songs by Spanish artist Joaquin Sabina. That same day, after getting distracted while connecting with students who went to São Paulo, I ended up listening to a playlist of songs by Brazilian rapper Crioulo from that same city.
The next day (July 26th), I followed the recommendation of a friend (also from São Paulo) and listened to the Asc. Scorpio Radio playlist. The friend described it as her "lonely place". On July28th, I tried listening to white noise (forest ambience) playlist. But to my surprise, I found absolutely annoying and distracting to my writing flow that day. Therefore, I quickly switched to a soothing classical piano playlist, which worked really well for focus.
In the last three days of writing, my musical journey inclided the album "PretoBrás" from the vanguard Brazilian artist Itamar Assumção, a Spotify-made playlists of relaxing classical guitar melodies, the titled “Chill list”.
Reflecting on the music I chose during this writing exercise, I realise that many of the songs I listened to were heavily influenced by my trip to São Paulo. During my time there, I reconnected to Brazilian music from that region and also received music recommendations from local friends.
Genaro Oliveira is a lecturer in education at Massey University, specialising in social sciences, history and digital pedagogies.
