Six reverberation times for one room
Drawn above with its standard settings, which is almost never how an essay draws it: an essay states the numbers it is arguing about, so the figure a reader meets there is about that argument rather than about the drawing in general. Every option a placement passes is checked against the ones this function actually reads, because an option it does not read is silently ignored and the figure quietly draws what is above instead.
It makes a noise. 12 of its 12 placements carry sound, built from the same numbers as the drawing, offering these buttons: A chord as struck, A note at 220 Hz in a carpeted studio: 3.4 s at 125 Hz, 0.5 s at 4000, A note at 220 Hz in a hall with 1,400 m² of panelling: 3.1 s at 125 Hz, 1.5 s at 4000, A note at 220 Hz in a large stone church: 6.3 s at 125 Hz, 2.4 s at 4000, A note at 220 Hz in a shoebox concert hall: 3.1 s at 125 Hz, 1.5 s at 4000, A note at 220 Hz in an opera house: 2.9 s at 125 Hz, 1.4 s at 4000, A note at 220 Hz in an untreated room: 2.8 s at 125 Hz, 1.8 s at 4000, A note at 220 Hz in the full hall: 3.2 s at 125 Hz, 1.7 s at 4000 and 3 more.
Called by 6 essays
the blast radius of changing it
A room does not decay evenly
Sabine's arithmetic gives one number and absorption is a strong function of frequency, so a room has six reverberation times rather than one. A stone church rings for 6.3 seconds at 125 hertz and 2.4 at 4 kilohertz, which means a chord left in it does not fade — it changes shape, losing its top before it loses its bottom, and arriving at the listener as a different sonority from the one played.
The first eighty milliseconds are a different room
Draw a line across a room's decay and the energy on either side is two opposite verdicts about one building — clarity before it, reverberation after. The line is a property of the ear, not of the room, and putting it at 50 milliseconds and at 80 makes the two published design targets fall out — a room for speech at one second, a room for music at 1.6.
The model has nobody in it
Sabine's room is an empty box. The audience is 45 per cent of a full hall's absorption, a hall with hard seats goes from 2.76 seconds empty to 1.90 full, and because an audience absorbs far more treble than bass it does not shorten the decay so much as tilt it. And the players are inside the loop the model has no term for at all.
One voice over ninety players
A soloist heard over a full orchestra is not louder than it and could not be. What the trained voice does instead is put a peak of energy at three kilohertz, which is where the orchestra's spectrum has already fallen away and where the ear's own threshold happens to be lowest. Nineteen decibels of advantage, in a place nobody is competing for.
The note that gets duller as it dies
Every envelope drawn so far is one curve applied to a whole sound, and no struck string behaves that way. A string loses energy to air, to internal friction and to the bridge, and all three losses rise with frequency — so a note with a six-second fundamental has a sixteenth partial that is gone in under half a second, and the sound moving toward the listener is a spectrum collapsing toward its own fundamental. Which means an instrument is identified twice: once by the fifty milliseconds of its attack, which the earlier essays measured, and again by how fast its colour drains, which they did not.
The room is the slower of the two
A reverberant field is the source convolved with the room, so a partial's tail falls at the slower of the two rates rather than at their sum — and the room is slower for exactly the partials the string is losing fastest. Half a note's colour is gone in 0.163 seconds in no room at all, 0.313 in a concert hall and 1.441 in a stone church. The destination is identical in all three, because a room cannot hold a partial up above the fundamental it is also holding. What a hall takes away is the rate, and the rate was the whole of the identity cue.