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What the room does

No sound reaches an ear unmodified. Reflection, absorption and resonance are part of the instrument, and always have been.
A small room's lowest modes. The first few axial standing waves of a room, drawn in plan, with the frequency of every mode below 160 hertz listed underneath. The low modes are far apart in frequency, so some bass notes are loud in one corner and absent in another. The sound buttons play these two octaves above their real pitch, because a room's lowest modes are below what most speakers reproduce. Timbre and acoustics

The room is part of the instrument

A room has frequencies it supports and frequencies it will not. In a small one those frequencies are far apart, so some bass notes are loud in one corner and absent in another — and no equipment fixes it.

The vowel in "hod", sung at 110 Hz. The partials of a 110 Hz note, each drawn at the amplitude the vocal tract's resonances give it. The peaks of the curve are the formants — 730 Hz and 1090 Hz — and they stay where they are when the pitch changes, because they are a property of the shape of the mouth and not of the note being sung. Timbre and acoustics

A vowel is two resonances

The vowel in "heed" is the same vowel sung high or low, and nothing about it is a property of the note. It is two peaks in the response of the mouth, sitting at fixed frequencies while the partials of the voice slide underneath them.

Reverberation time, by two formulas. Sixty-decibel decay time against average absorption, divided by the room's volume-to-surface ratio so that every room sits on the same pair of curves. Sabine's equation, which is the one every textbook gives, and Eyring's correction to it. They agree in the reflective rooms Sabine measured and separate above ᾱ ≈ 0.18: at 0.6 Sabine reads 53% high, and at ᾱ = 1 — a room whose walls absorb everything, which is the outdoors — it still returns a positive time for a space with no reverberation at all. Marked: a concert hall 1.59 s, a stone church 3.37 s, a studio live room 0.45 s, a carpeted bedroom 0.13 s, an anechoic chamber 0.03 s. Timbre and acoustics

How long a room rings, and where the formula stops

Sabine's reverberation time is one line of arithmetic — volume over absorption — and it built the modern concert hall. It also predicts that a room whose walls absorb everything still rings, which is a room with no reverberation at all, and the error is largest in exactly the rooms most music is now made in.

A source 45° off centre, and the path difference it makes. A head from above with a source to one side. The near ear is reached first; the far ear's path runs round the head, and the difference between the two is 13.1 centimetres, which at 343 metres a second is 381 microseconds. That number, and the level difference the head's shadow produces, are the whole of what the ear has to work with. Perception and the listener

Two ears, and the whole of the difference is 655 microseconds

Direction is computed from two numbers — when a sound reaches each ear and how loud it is at each — and which of the two is usable is decided by the wavelength against the width of a head. The changeover frequency is not a design choice. It falls out of 343 metres a second and 17.5 centimetres, and it is why the mechanism of hearing where something is changes halfway up the piano.

How late a reflection has to be before it is an echo. What a single reflection does to the sound it follows, against its delay, on a logarithmic axis. Under a millisecond the two combine into one image that is pulled towards the earlier source. From there out to a few tens of milliseconds the reflection is not heard as a separate event at all and does not move the image — it only changes the timbre. Past the echo threshold it becomes a second sound, and the threshold is five times later for speech than for a click. Perception and the listener

The first wavefront wins

A room sends a hundred copies of every note to a listener from a hundred directions, and the listener hears one note in one place. The mechanism that does it is brutal and simple: for the first few tens of milliseconds after a sound arrives, everything that follows is denied a vote on where it came from — even when it is louder than the original.

Where each frequency goes, from a source 18 cm across. Polar response of a circular radiator of radius 9 cm at 200 Hz (ka = 0.3), 800 Hz (ka = 1.3), 2000 Hz (ka = 3.3), 5000 Hz (ka = 8.2). Zero degrees is straight ahead. The low frequency is a circle — it goes everywhere — and the high one is a narrow lobe with nulls either side of it, so a listener off to the side hears the same note with its top missing. Timbre and acoustics

An instrument points

A source radiates evenly while it is small compared with the wavelength and beams once it is not, and the crossover is one number. So the same instrument is omnidirectional in its bottom octave and a searchlight in its top one — which means its spectrum depends on where the listener is standing, and a microphone position is a choice about what the instrument sounds like.

How often the chord changes, and what a room allows. Chord changes a second implied by each style's stated rate and tempo, on a logarithmic axis, with the rate above which a room leaves more than one earlier chord above 20 dB marked for six rooms. The style rates are conventions rather than corpus measurements and the figure says so; the room rates are arithmetic from the reverberation time. Harmony and voice leading

How often the chord changes

Two pieces can use the same chords in the same order and be nothing alike, because a progression says which chords and not how fast. Harmonic rhythm is the second variable, it runs over a factor of thirty between the styles that use it, and both of its limits are set by things that are not harmony — a listener's memory at the slow end and a building at the fast one.

6 chords in a gothic cathedral. Each chord's reverberant decay in a room with a 8 second reverberation time, at 1 chord a second. Decay is linear in decibels, so each line is straight with a slope of -7.5 dB a second. When a chord arrives, 2 earlier ones are still above 20 dB down. Timbre and acoustics

The room chooses the harmonic rhythm

A chord in a cathedral is still sounding, seven decibels down, when the next one arrives — and the one after that, and the one after that. Reverberation is linear in decibels, so the number of chords audible at once is one number divided by another, and it puts a hard ceiling on how fast a composer writing for that building can change harmony. The ceiling is computable, and the music written for those rooms sits under it.

Where each room stops being a set of resonances. The Schroeder frequency of 6 rooms — a carpeted bedroom at 217 Hz, a domestic living room at 183 Hz, a rehearsal room at 120 Hz, a jazz club at 68 Hz, a shoebox concert hall at 21 Hz, a gothic cathedral at 36 Hz — marked on a logarithmic frequency axis with the ranges of 4 instruments underneath. Below the mark a room is a handful of separable modes and a note's loudness depends on where the listener is standing; above it the modes overlap and the room is described by one decay time. Timbre and acoustics

Where a room stops being a room

A small room has frequencies it supports and frequencies it will not, and a hall has a reverberation time. Those are two separate accounts and they are descriptions of the same building at different frequencies. The crossover is one formula, and in a bedroom it lands at about two hundred hertz — in the middle of the bass register, and above nothing at all in a concert hall.

Direct and reverberant sound in a shoebox concert hall. The direct sound falls six decibels for every doubling of distance and the reverberant field does not fall at all, so they cross once — at 5.5 metres in a room of 18700 cubic metres with a 2-second decay. Both are drawn relative to their level at that crossing. Everything past the crossing is a seat at which the room is louder than the instrument. Perception and the listener

How far away the room takes over

Direct sound falls six decibels every time the distance doubles and the reverberant field does not fall at all, so the two cross once. In a concert hall the crossing is at about five and a half metres, which is nearer than nearly every seat — so almost everybody in almost every hall is hearing the building more than the players, and the number that says so is built from two quantities already computed — a room's reverberation time and an instrument's directivity.

Six reverberation times for one room. Sabine's arithmetic evaluated in each octave band from the published absorption coefficients of the surfaces. a large stone church runs from 6.3 seconds at 125 Hz to 2.4 at 4 kHz — a bass ratio of 1.38, where concert halls are specified between 1.1 and 1.25. Timbre and acoustics

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.

One decay, two verdicts, and the line is the listener's. The early-to-late energy ratio against reverberation time, for 50 millisecond and 80 millisecond windows. Nothing about the room differs between the curves; only where the line is drawn across its decay. Zero comes at 1.00 seconds for the 50 ms window and 1.59 seconds for the 80 ms window — which are, to two figures, the published rules of thumb for a room for speech and a room for music. The design targets were not put in; they came out. Timbre and acoustics

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 same hall, empty and full. A hall of 18700 cubic metres with 900 square metres of audience, designed to 1.9 seconds occupied, with three kinds of seat under the audience. It is 2.76 s empty and 1.90 s full with hard wooden seats, a change of 31 per cent; 2.29 s empty and 1.90 s full with lightly padded, a change of 17 per cent; 1.96 s empty and 1.90 s full with heavily upholstered, a change of 3 per cent. The audience is 45 per cent of the total absorption when the hall is full, which is the largest single term in the equation — and how much the hall changes is decided entirely by what the seats were doing before anybody sat on them. Instruments and their design

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.

A silence measured in two ways that were not chosen to agree. How far a carried beat drifts during a silence, in fractions of a beat, for beat periods of 200 ms, 550 ms, 2000 ms and a tempo estimate 5 per cent wrong — which is the published discrimination limen rather than a figure chosen here. Half a beat of drift is where the metre coming out of the silence is no longer the one that went in, and it is reached after 10 beats whatever the tempo, which is 2.0 seconds at 200 ms, 5.5 seconds at 550 ms, 20.0 seconds at 2000 ms. The shaded band is the psychological present, 2 to 8 seconds, measured by a completely different literature and used in this collection to bound a phrase. The two answers overlap: a silence under about 2 seconds is a rest inside something and one over about 5.5 is after it. Form and structure

A silence long enough to be an ending

Four of the five closure components are present or absent. Silence is the one with a continuous scale, so it is the one that can be given a threshold — and the threshold arrives from two literatures that were not chosen to agree, landing between three and a half and five and a half seconds. In a large hall, the room's own decay uses up most of it.

What gets out of an opening, for 4 openings. The fraction of the wave's energy radiated at an open end against frequency, in the baffled-piston model — the radiation resistance of a circular piston, normalised to the tube's own impedance. Each curve runs from nothing at the bottom, where the opening is far smaller than a wavelength and the wave simply turns round, to everything above ka ≈ 2. Half the energy leaves at 6364 Hz for a flute's embouchure end (radius 10 mm), 2015 Hz for a clarinet's bell (radius 30 mm), 975 Hz for a trumpet's bell (radius 62 mm), 403 Hz for a horn's bell (radius 150 mm). The crossover goes as one over the radius, so the widest and narrowest here are 15.8 times apart in frequency. The same number decides how strongly the tube resonates and how much sound it makes, which is why a bell cannot brighten an instrument without also weakening its own resonances. Timbre and acoustics

The bell decides what gets out

A tube resonates because the wave turns round at the open end, and it is audible because some of the wave does not. Those are the same number with opposite signs. One quantity — the size of the opening against a wavelength — decides how loud an instrument is, how bright it is and how directional it is, and a bell moves the boundary rather than removing it.

A note gets duller as it dies. Each partial of a string note against time, with the loss rising as the partial number to the power 1 — so the fundamental takes 6 seconds to fall sixty decibels and the 8th takes 0.75. The heavy line is the power-weighted centroid, falling from partial 1.77 toward the fundamental; it is halfway there after 0.15 seconds. A single-rate envelope would draw all of these as parallel lines and the centroid as a horizontal one, and a struck string does neither: what is left at the end of a long note is very nearly a sine. Timbre and acoustics

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 bow's window across a compass, with the bridge in it. Schelleng's window — the ratio of the largest usable bow force to the smallest — at a bow position of 0.09 of the length, across 196 to 1568 hertz, with the minimum scaled by the body's own admittance at each note. The window is widest between resonances and narrowest on them: it falls from 25 to 1.7 at B♭4. The notes a player finds hard to start are the local minima, and they sit on the body's resonances by construction — C♯4, B♭4, C♯5 for this body. At this bow position it never closes; move the bow toward the bridge and it does. Instruments and their design

The note the body will not let start

Every figure until now treats the string as though it ended at a rigid point, and an earlier essay admitted it: the body feeds back on the string hard enough to make some notes difficult on one instrument and easy on another. Put the body's own admittance into Schelleng's minimum bow force and the window narrows by fifteen to one at the corpus resonances — and near the bridge it closes.

Where a room stops sending the two ears the same sound. The correlation between the two ears' signals against frequency, for a seat 15 metres from the source in a 15,000 cubic metre room with a 2 second reverberation time. The pale curve is the diffuse field alone — sin(kd)/(kd) for an ear separation of 17.5 centimetres, which first crosses zero at 980 hertz. The heavy curve adds the direct sound, which is coherent and lifts the whole thing by an amount the direct-to-reverberant ratio sets. At 125 hertz the coherence is 0.98 and at 1000 it is 0.16. Perception and the listener

Where the two ears stop agreeing

A room sends both ears versions of the same sound, alike at low frequencies and increasingly unlike at high ones. Where they stop resembling each other is 980 hertz, and it is set by the 17.5 centimetres between the ears rather than by anything about the room — which is within a quarter of a frequency found earlier for a completely different reason. One minus that correlation is spaciousness, and it is computable from a room's own reverberation.

Why a concert hall is narrow. The lateral energy fraction at the middle seat as the same hall is widened, everything else held. It peaks at 12 metres across at 0.235 and falls to 0.000 at 44. A wide hall's side walls are further away, so their reflections arrive later, weaker and — this is the part Sabine's model cannot say — from nearer the front, where the sideways weighting discounts them. The shoebox halls the orchestral repertoire was written for are all between about eighteen and twenty-five metres wide, and this is the arithmetic they are the answer to. Perception and the listener

A room with directions in it

Every room until now has been a reservoir of energy that drains at a rate. That model has no directions in it at all, so it cannot say the one thing every published measure of spaciousness is about: how much of what arrives comes from the side. Mirror the source in six walls and every reflection acquires an angle and a time — and the answer to why a concert hall is narrow falls out at eighteen metres.

Every arrival at one seat, against the delay at which it would be an echo. The echogram: each reflection at its delay after the direct sound and its level relative to it, in a 22 by 45 by 15 metre hall with 18 per cent absorption. The line is the published echo threshold for speech — 40 milliseconds at equal level and about 3.0 more for each decibel of attenuation — so anything to the RIGHT of it is late enough and loud enough to be heard separately. The once-reflected rear wall arrives at 210 milliseconds, 25 decibels down, against a threshold of 114 — well past it. Nothing here stands clear enough of its neighbours to be heard as an echo, and 181 arrivals are fused with the direct sound instead. Perception and the listener

An echo is prevented by the crowd around it

The echogram says when every reflection arrives and how loud it is; the published echo threshold says when a reflection that late and that quiet is heard separately. Put one against the other and the rear wall of every hall anybody builds is past the threshold — a 45-metre hall puts it 210 milliseconds late and 25 decibels down against a threshold of 114. It is not heard as an echo, and what saves it is not the geometry. It is everything else arriving at the same time.

Where the sound is, and how wide. An earlier essay sorted a hall's arrivals into echoes and everything else. Everything else is not nothing: a reflection too early to be heard as a separate event still moves the apparent source, widens it and colours it, and all three come out of the same list of times, levels and angles. At this seat the direct sound arrives from 26.6 degrees off the front and the image is heard 8.5 degrees left of it, pulled by the near side wall. The apparent width is 33 degrees, from a lateral energy fraction of 0.23. And the strongest early reflection arrives 0.6 milliseconds behind off 1× the floor, which is a comb filter with notches every 1608 hertz and 25 decibels deep. The trading ratio and the discount on late arrivals are stipulated rather than measured, so the degrees are ordinal: what the figure claims is the direction and the shape, not the number. Perception and the listener

A position and a width

Sorting a hall's arrivals into echoes and everything else settled that fusion is not a yes or a no. Everything else is not nothing: a reflection too early to be heard separately still moves the apparent source, widens it and colours it. All three come out of the same list of times, levels and angles, and none of them needed a new input.

The hall, as two numbers a listener has. Every reflection at this seat, placed by the interaural delay it produces rather than by the direction it came from. Time runs down; the dot's size is its energy. The direct sound is at 0 microseconds and the reverberation spreads over the whole available range, with a root-mean-square width of 322 against a geometric maximum of 656. That is the position and width computed earlier, in the units a listener has instead of the vectors used until now. 10 of the 56 reflections arrive from behind and carry 9 per cent of the energy — and they are drawn where they are because the interaural delay of a reflection from 120 degrees is identical to one from 60. Perception and the listener

The hall through a head

Every direction computed so far is a vector from a seat to an image source, and a listener has no vectors. Run the echogram through the head computed six essays ago and two things happen: the position and width become microseconds, and a third of the room disappears — because both cues fold at ninety degrees and a reflection from behind is identical to one in front.

A turn of 0.99 degrees tells front from back. A source 45 degrees off centre and its mirror image 135 degrees off, which produce the same interaural delay and are therefore the same signal to a listener who does not move. As the head turns the two predictions separate: the front source's delay falls and the rear source's rises, because the fold at ninety degrees puts them on opposite branches of the same curve. They differ by the 15-microsecond threshold after 0.99 degrees of turn — which is exactly half the 1.97 degrees a source would have to move for the same listener to notice it moving, and it is half for a reason: a turn displaces the two hypotheses from each other by twice what it displaces either of them from where it started. Perception and the listener

The turn is half the angle

A stationary head cannot tell a sound in front from the same sound behind, and an earlier essay said so at length. The turn that breaks the confusion is 0.84 degrees — exactly half the angle a source would have to move for the same listener to notice it moving, and half for a reason. In a hall the same turn does something else: the source swings at 8.9 microseconds a degree and the room swings at 2.7, so a listener who moves is separating the soloist from the reverberation as well as the front from the back.

The same geometry at four sizes of head. Woodworth's interaural delay against direction, for 4 head radii from 5.8 to 9.8 centimetres. The whole range runs from 431 microseconds for a newborn to 735 for a large adult, and it scales exactly with the radius because the delay is (r/c)(θ + sin θ) and r is a multiplier. The detection threshold does not scale with the listener, so the number of distinguishable delays across the whole range falls from 98 to 57: a smaller head has the same directions in front of it and a shorter ruler to measure them with. Perception and the listener

A smaller head in the same hall

Ten earlier essays draw one head. Every parameter belonging to the room has been varied by some figure and the one belonging to the listener never has, and it is the only one whose change the detection threshold does not follow: a six-year-old in the same seat receives the same fifty-four reflections at the same instants and reads them onto an axis with seventy distinguishable positions instead of eighty-seven. The speed of sound, swept over every temperature a hall is ever at, changes nothing at all — and the reason it cannot is the reason head size can.

A general pause of a bar is worth 4.9 decibels in a hall and 8.1 in silence. What a rest is worth as a diminuendo, in rooms with different reverberation times. The upper curve is the earlier figure, which assumed the sound stops when the players do; each curve below it lets the hall go on sounding, falling sixty decibels in its own reverberation time until it reaches the background. At the bar of silence a general pause usually is — about 1.2 seconds — the dry value is 8.1 decibels, shoebox concert hall keeps 60 per cent of it and gothic cathedral keeps 22. At 3.5 seconds, where a gap stops being a pause and becomes an ending, the same hall keeps 86 per cent. A long silence outlives any hall's tail and a short one does not, which is why the room costs the device most at exactly the length a composer writes it. Form and structure

A rest needs a dry room

The twenty-four decibels a general pause is worth assume the sound stops when the players do. Put a hall under it and a bar of silence keeps 60 per cent of its value in a shoebox concert hall and 22 per cent in a cathedral, while a three-and-a-half-second one keeps 86 and 45 — because a hall's tail has a length and a rest either outlives it or does not. A written bar of silence is worth half its dry value at 2.76 seconds of reverberation, which falls between the concert hall and the stone church.

Where a woodwind's A♭3 leaves it, below its corner and above it. The same fingering — 6 holes open on a 15-millimetre bore 567 millimetres long, sounding A♭3 at 207 hertz — drawn twice, with each opening's circle scaled by the share of the radiated power that leaves through it. At 400 hertz 78 per cent of it leaves through the first open hole, the bell takes 0 per cent, and the number of apertures really doing the radiating is 1.6; At 2600 hertz 6 per cent of it leaves through the first open hole, the bell takes 49 per cent, and the number of apertures really doing the radiating is 3.3. The lower frequency is below this fingering's corner and the higher one above it: below the corner the instrument is a short tube with one opening at the end of it, and above the corner it is the whole lattice at once. The power-weighted station — where a listener would say the sound is coming from — moves from 392 millimetres to 515. Instruments and their design

Where a woodwind actually sounds from

Every number so far is read at the mouthpiece, and the corner's whole musical meaning is at the other end. Run the same solver forwards and it gives the flow leaving every hole — from which a clarinet's radiating aperture turns out to be a function of fingering and of frequency, but not the way it was predicted to: the fingering sets how far the aperture opens, almost exactly to the number of open holes, and barely moves the frequency at which it does.

From partial 3 the room is the slower of the two. Decay rates in nepers a second for each partial of a note on 130.8 hertz, in a concert hall. The rising curve is the string's own loss, which grows as the partial number to the power 1. The flat-ish curve is the room's, from its reverberation time at that partial's frequency. A reverberant field is the source convolved with the room, so a partial's tail falls at the SLOWER of the two — the heavy line — and the room keeps returning energy the string has stopped making. From partial 3, at 392 hertz, the room is in charge: 6 of the note's 8 partials are held up by the room rather than let go by the string. Those are exactly the partials the string was losing fastest, which is why the room does not merely lengthen the note. Timbre and acoustics

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.

A room pulls the compass apart rather than evening it out. How long a pizzicato entering 6 decibels above a held note keeps the composite spectrum, at eight pitches across two and a half octaves, heard 15 metres from the stage. no room: 0.07, 0.05, 0.06, 0.06, 0.02, 0.05, 0.05, 0.04 seconds; a concert hall: 0.61, 0.27, 0.50, 0.38, 0.01, 0.25, 0.27, 0.19 seconds; a large stone church: 1.03, 0.39, 0.79, 0.56, never, 0.33, 0.35, 0.23 seconds. Dry the figures barely move — a spread of 3.0 across the whole compass — because a room is the thing that varies with frequency and there is none. In a hall the spread is 44. The room does not scale the dry answer by a constant: it multiplies it by between four and nine times depending on the note, and at C6 it makes the pluck's position worse rather than better, because the two instruments' spectra nearly coincide there and the pluck starts only 4.0 decibels ahead instead of twelve. Timbre and acoustics

One note in the compass loses its pizzicato

Dry, how long a pluck keeps the composite spectrum barely depends on which note it plays: three-hundredths of a second at the worst pitch and seven at the best, a spread of three. In a concert hall the same eight notes spread by a factor of forty-three, and in a stone church one of them never gets the note at all. The room does not scale the dry answer by a constant — it multiplies it by between four and nine times depending on the pitch, and at the one note where the two instruments' spectra nearly coincide it makes the pluck's position worse instead of better.

A damper is a loss on the string, so a room can overrule it. Decay rate in nepers a second against partial number, for a note on 130.8 hertz in a room of 2 seconds. The rising line is the string's own loss, 1.15 nepers a second at the fundamental and growing as the partial number to the power 1. The line above it is that plus the damper's 46.1, which is what the string does once the key comes up. The flat line is the room. What a listener receives is the SLOWER of the damped string and the room, because a hall goes on radiating what the string has already given it — and here the room is slower on 8 of 8 partials, from the fundamental upward. The composition proposed earlier — take the slower of the string and the room, then add the damper to whichever won — would put the damper outside the minimum, where nothing can overrule it, and would predict a note 2.54 seconds shorter than ringing where the arithmetic here predicts 0.90. Timbre and acoustics

A damper cannot reach into the room

The essay before this one proposed the arithmetic for a damped note in a hall: take the slower of the string's rate and the room's, then add the damper's to whichever won. The composition is wrong, and it is wrong in the one place that decides the answer. A damper is a loss on the string, so it belongs inside the minimum where a room can overrule it — and past about three seconds of reverberation it is overruled on every partial, so the damper removes no audible seconds of note at all.

A staccato is the direct sound's, and the room takes it within a fifth of the critical distance. A note on 130.8 Hz held 0.4 s and damped, in a room of 2 s reverberation, heard at distances from 0.02 to 5 times the critical distance: how long after the release the note takes to fall 10 dB and 20 dB. To fall 10 dB: 24 ms at the source, 333 ms far away; 0.02: 24 ms, 0.05: 25 ms, 0.1: 25 ms, 0.15: 26 ms, 0.2: 28 ms, 0.3: 35 ms, 0.5: 103 ms, 0.75: 187 ms, 1: 234 ms, 1.5: 281 ms, 2: 302 ms, 3: 318 ms, 5: 328 ms; doubled by 0.38 of the critical distance. To fall 20 dB: 49 ms at the source, 667 ms far away; 0.02: 49 ms, 0.05: 51 ms, 0.1: 60 ms, 0.15: 117 ms, 0.2: 198 ms, 0.3: 308 ms, 0.5: 436 ms, 0.75: 520 ms, 1: 568 ms, 1.5: 614 ms, 2: 635 ms, 3: 652 ms, 5: 661 ms; doubled by 0.14 of the critical distance. Where the direct sound and the room are equal, the damper's work is already hidden: the room's copy is only 20 dB below the direct sound at a tenth of the critical distance, and a 20 dB fall reaches it there. Timbre and acoustics

Only the player hears a staccato end

A damper stops a string in a seventh of a second, and in a hall the room goes on for two. A listener hears both, mixed in proportion to how close they sit, and the question was at what distance the short part stops mattering. The answer is closer than any seat. A damped note's twenty-decibel fall has doubled in length by a seventh of a hall's critical distance — 77 centimetres in a two-second concert hall — and by a quarter of it in a jazz club. The end of a staccato is something the pianist hears and the front row does not.

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