Yuqing Wang

Soundwalk I: Child-centered learning/places

Sound Journal

I selected Funtasticks Family Fun Park as the site for my soundwalk because it integrates indoor and outdoor environments, creating a layered soundscape shaped by nature, machines, and human activity.

When I began outdoors, I noticed a wide range of water sounds. Splashes hitting the ground were loud and sharp, drops falling into puddles were light and delicate, and water striking pebbles produced a softer tone, accompanied by the steady flow of running water. These sounds contrasted with the rustling of leaves in the wind and the clear ringing of bells, which stood out prominently. In the dining area, which was quiet and empty, the continuous hum of fans and buzzing of electricity became very noticeable. At first, I thought I was hearing cars passing by, but I realized it was the roaring of go-karts driven by children and parents. As I moved closer, the engines grew louder and more distinct. The presence of people was also clear through the sounds of sneakers, strollers, and flip-flops, along with distant broadcasts, shouts, and laughter.

When I moved indoors, the enclosed space amplified the noise of machines running and made the faint buzzing of the router more distinct. Background music played throughout the space, adding another layer to the sound environment. Unlike outdoors, where sounds dispersed and blended into one another, the indoor space concentrated the noises, making them feel louder, heavier, and more dominated by mechanical energy.

The combination of indoor and outdoor environments provides children with opportunities to explore different facilities and choose the activities that interest them most. The variety of sounds can also shape these choices. For example, some children may be drawn to the lively, rhythmic noises indoors and prefer playing arcade games, while others may be more attuned to the calming sounds of nature and choose to spend time outdoors. This freedom of choice reflects a child-centered approach, where sounds and experiences are not imposed but discovered through individual curiosity. As Viktor Lowenfeld and W. Lambert Brittain (1964) emphasize, effective stimulation must connect to the child’s lived experiences and genuine interests in order to foster creativity. The diverse sounds in the environment encourage children to follow their own curiosity, make choices, and experiment through play.

Reference

Lowenfeld, V., & Brittain, W. L. (1964). The meaning of art in the classroom. Creative and mental growth (4th ed., pp. 52–90). Macmillan.

Sound Map

Soundscape Visualization I: Printmaking

Soundscape I

Soundwalk II:

Sounds of the Past (Historical Places)

Sound Journal

In the valley of the moon, I recorded from the stone tower to the fairy garden, capturing the sound of feet crunching on sand, wind and rain, children's laughter and performance sounds, volunteers’ guidance intertwined with the sound of cicadas. These present-moment sounds drew me back to founder George Phar Legler's (n.d.) core philosophy “Kindness to All is the Golden Key to Happiness” which has been central to his work since 1923. They also let me hear how this place endures and renews itself through the long-term care of volunteers, healing hearts with art, imagination, and goodwill (George Phar Legler Society, n.d.).

Valley of the Moon is a nonprofit park and historic landmark in Tucson. Founded in the 1920s by George Phar Legler, it was built to spread “kindness, imagination, and wonder.” Legler believed that through fantasy and fairy tales, humanity could find healing and happiness. The valley’s slogan, kindness to all, permeates its architecture, performances, and community activities. Egler built Valley of the Moon himself, using local stone, concrete, wire mesh, and discarded materials to create its distinctive handmade style (George Phar Legler Society, n.d.). Unlike today's precisely measured, reinforced concrete designs, touching the valley’s structures reveals the marks of time and craftsmanship, rough stone surfaces and even irregular textures left on your fingertips. The crunch of sand, the wind through the stones, and the rain on the towers made the handmade history come alive.

The Fall Show, A Ferb-tastic Haunted Ruins Adventure I attended was an immersive theatrical experience starring youth performers. Guided by volunteers, the audience wandered through the stone paths and arches of Valley of the Moon, drawn into the story by the children’s dialogue, songs, and movements. This fairy-tale land of stone and imagination seemed to come alive anew. Footsteps, laughter, and wind blended together, dissolving the boundaries between history, legend, and the present moment. Wrapped by sound and space, I felt less like a spectator and more like a participant walking through a real-life fairy tale built from community, memory, and imagination. In the future, doing immersive performances through historic places would help students understand how art can activate community spaces, making history tangible while cultivating empathy, collaboration, and imaginative learning in art education.

Sound Map

Soundscape Visualization II: Digital Collage

Valley of the Moon is a historic and hand-crafted fairy-tale environment. Many of its structures, textures, and details were built by hand, preserving visible traces of imagination. These handmade qualities enrich the space with a sense of childlike wonder. Because the idea of magic often feels dizzying and dreamlike to me, my collage draws on repetition and shifting transparency to express that sense of enchantment.

One of the main challenges I faced was arranging such different elements together, since each component carried its own visual language. Eventually, I used repeated shapes and rhythmic placement to create a sense of flow and continuity. Because this collage was based on my soundwalk experience, the repetition and movement also represent the sounds I heard in Valley of the Moon，such as the recurring pattern of raindrops, bursts of laughter, and the way certain sounds faded as I walked. Through these visual strategies, I tried to translate both the magical atmosphere of the site and the sonic rhythm of my journey into a cohesive composition.

Soundscape II

Soundwalk III: Decolonial Practices

Sound Journal

At the beginning of the journey, I felt both excited and relaxed. I looked forward to being in direct contact with nature and visiting a place I had never explored before. For me, a decolonial sound walk meant listening to the voices of the land include sounds from the present but also reflect to the past woven together in sound. I came into this experience with curiosity and openness, hoping to sense how history, memory, and environment coexist in the same space. To me, a decolonial sound walk is not only about hearing sounds but also about feeling the land that has been colonized and continues to live and breathe in the present.

“Tracing the Footsteps”

As I walked along the trail, I noticed how different surfaces below my feet carried distinct sensations and meanings. Some paths were covered in fine sand, soft and slightly sinking with each step and almost as if the land was absorbing me into its memory. Others were filled with stones of varying shapes and colors, their firmness making every step sound heavy, as if pressing the stones into the soil to create a new surface. There were also smoother paths marked by visible cracks. Stepping on them evoked a quiet fear of falling, reminding me of the land’s fragility.

“Listening and Touch”

The surfaces not only felt different but also sounded  different. The sandy path made soft rustling noises, the rocky path echoed with clinking and shifting tones as the stones collided and bounced, the cracked but smooth surface produced almost no sound, only the faint rhythm of my shoes touching the earth. Around me, branches intertwined, and leaves whispered in the wind. I touched tree bark that had been dried and cracked by sun and wind and its roughness contrasting with the vibrant, green leaves that trembled with life. Listening closely to the subtle collision of leaves and branches, I sensed vitality and interconnection.

“Embodying Decolonization”

During our reflection, Brianna mentioned she could “feel the death of the place.” I empathized deeply much of what surrounded us was still, silent, and marked by time, bearing scratches of erosion and history. At that moment, I became aware of my aliveness. The contrast between my moving, breathing body and the stillness of the landscape reminded me that living in the present means noticing how my body interacts with the textures, wind, and sounds around me. Later, Dr. Altuntas shared that the place where we stood used to be a river, now transformed into a quiet trail. It revealed how landscapes hold memories of transformation and loss, and how decolonizing means recognizing those layers of change rather than erasing them.

In the first walk, I focused on how the ground felt under my feet. I learned that different surfaces, sand, stones, and cracks, each had their own sound and meaning. They made me think about how the land holds memory and emotion. In the second walk, I started to listen more carefully. I noticed how every sound, the wind, leaves, and the touch of my shoes, created a living rhythm. I felt more connected to the trees, air, and earth. This helped me build empathy for nature and see it as something alive, not separate from me. In the third walk, I understood more about decolonization. The stillness of the place and the story of the river made me think about change, loss, and history. I realized that decolonizing means to respect these hidden layers of memory instead of erasing them. The three walks taught me to slow down, listen, and see the land as a teacher. They helped me connect empathy, history, and environmental respect through my body and senses.

Soundscape Visualization III: Sound Sculptures

Soundscape III

References

George Phar Legler Society. (n.d.). The whole story. Valley of the Moon.