Sounds of the Past

Noise and silence in ancient times

What did the past sound like? In a recent interview, Neil McGregor, the former Director of the British Museum, mused about how different it must have sounded from today.

It’s a fascinating question. Without mechanical, amplified, recorded, or broadcast sounds, the ‘soundscape’ of the ancient world must have been very different from the modern. But in other respects, ancient ears were attuned to the same experiences as we have today - the experience of everyday and natural noises, and the sounds of voices and music. (One might even combine these: the brilliant piper Callum Armstrong here offers a cheeky interpretation of the frog’s croak represented in Aristophanes’ comic play Frogs of 405 BC by brekekekekex koax koax, playing on a reconstructed ancient double-pipe/aulos).

While it’s tempting to think that the sheer volume of some sounds such as the boom of an aeroplane or the blast of a disco beat could not have been matched in the ancient world, we shouldn’t forget that thunder can be earsplitting (it was attributed to the action of the chief of the gods, Zeus the Thunderer) and earthquakes (which could mean the crashing down of buildings) were relatively common. The deafening din of war - the clash of shields and weapons, the war-shouts and trumpet blares, and the screams of those fighting and dying - would also have been a shared experience for many.

In respect of more organised sounds such as music and speech, ancient people experienced a range, produced by instruments that were strung (e.g. lyres), blown (e.g. the double pipes), or struck (e.g. drums). (You can hear an explanation of what ancient Greek music sounded like here.) Audiences would often have attended the declamations of politicians, orators, and even literary performers: the historian Herodotus is said to have declaimed his histories to audiences at the Olympic Games.

Initiates into religious Mysteries, such as those of the god Dionysus, had to undergo initiation ceremonies in which they were exposed to terrifying experiences such as blinding light and thunderous noises (such as might be produced by shaking sheets of metal) - the Mysteries, after all, promised a foretaste of death so that successful devotees might gain an insight into how to handle their own demise!

At the end of all that sound and noise, as at the beginning, is silence. Fortunate as we are to experience sounds full of beauty and meaning, we are no less fortunate to be able to enjoy (though perhaps more rarely than did people in the past) the peace and beauty of silence.

I was asked to write a longer piece about the soundscape of ancient Athens, and you can read it here.