saraí castañeda ︎ walking with a geography student studying sound ︎
saraí castañeda ︎ walking with a geography student studying sound ︎
Image from our first soundwalk following Strawberry Creek
Hi Everyone! My name is Saraí. I'm from the Blossom Valley Neighborhood in San Jose, where pre-existing sounds are usually airplanes arriving at the airport or the nearby highway. This is my collection of sounds that sonically encapsulate the different neighborhoods around the Bay. I tune in to the pre-existing sounds and learn what makes them exist. I invite you to listen to these, along with me, and envision each place as a sound landscape.
Refugio Creek refuge
The first time that I fully immersed myself in a sonic walk. During the long bus ride to Hercules, I prepared myself for the new environment I was about to enter. I consciously set aside my previous association with the Hercules-tied family and approached the space with fresh eyes. Throughout this soundwalk, I found myself searching for a refuge amongst the surrounding sounds of Refugio Creek.
Refugio Creek is exactly what it means: a refuge.
Who finds refuge within the suburbs? Who gets lost and can find a shelter?
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thriving Inhabitants of Strawberry Creek
I interviewed an inhabitant who frequents the environment built around Strawberry Creek, near Doe Library at UC Berkeley -- a space shaped by infrastructure built around the extraction of natural resources. As I moved through the space, I came across a student taking a study break outside of Doe Library, a moment that reflected how necessary nature can be to sustaining oneself in academic spaces.
Feeling lost is an important step to thriving.
How can space avoid extraction? Is belonging needed to thrive in academia?
I interviewed an inhabitant who frequents the environment built around Strawberry Creek, near Doe Library at UC Berkeley -- a space shaped by infrastructure built around the extraction of natural resources. As I moved through the space, I came across a student taking a study break outside of Doe Library, a moment that reflected how necessary nature can be to sustaining oneself in academic spaces.
Feeling lost is an important step to thriving.
How can space avoid extraction? Is belonging needed to thrive in academia?
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Sausal Creek oasis
Stepping on the Dimond District, I was surrounded by a booming business, not knowing where to explore by the many options that the Dimond District had. I spent most of my time at Dimond Park -- which I have never seen a more lively park during a technology boom era at 1pm on a Friday. I talked to two folks who frequent the Dimond Park often and both helped me understand the oasis that this park brings.
The community is committed to keep the creek restored.
How can an oasis bring gather people? How can restoration last decades?
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Using creeks as a navigation source to walk my way through the environment and understanding what makes these environments. The weekly walks focused on learning about the environment. Through these places, I stop at those I think are important in shaping the environment; often, these stopping points become the center of my sonic work. These environments are quite different, especially in the understanding of why certain spots are quiet, and the lack of access to silence.
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hidden San Lorenzo Creek
I remember San Lorenzo as a place of joy and tranquility, hidden by the businesses of downtown. Throughout this sonicwalk, I encountered many environments that were not what I expected such as a three generation passed down boot store, a lively senior community center, or a calming japanese garden.
San Lorenzo Creek: a hidden treasure
I remember San Lorenzo as a place of joy and tranquility, hidden by the businesses of downtown. Throughout this sonicwalk, I encountered many environments that were not what I expected such as a three generation passed down boot store, a lively senior community center, or a calming japanese garden.
San Lorenzo Creek: a hidden treasure
What stories emerge from the hidden spaces? How does music build?
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Alameda Creek antique
Walking through Niles, I felt like I had stepped into another time. The town carried a quiet, Southwestern character with old railway tracks and antique storefronts that seemed frozen in place. It felt less like a neighborhood and more like a set from a Western film, where history still lingers in the streets. The creek became a character in this film setting. However the heavy contrast of a modern coffee shop just a few steps away, interrupted the past with a different rhythm of life.
Niles: a layered space of antique and modern
How can a place feel old and new simulatneously? Does historic preservation matter?
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connecting Coyote Hills
Arriving at the Coyote Hills Slough, I didn’t expect the richness of sound that would surround me. The stillness in space suddenly felt alive. The air was stacked with bird calls, wind, and even slithers of snakes. Looking across the water toward the other side of the Bay, it felt like it was a distant yet connected landscape. I only wish that kind of place was more accessible, so people can directly get to this kind of quiet haven.
Coyote Hills: where water meets the land
Arriving at the Coyote Hills Slough, I didn’t expect the richness of sound that would surround me. The stillness in space suddenly felt alive. The air was stacked with bird calls, wind, and even slithers of snakes. Looking across the water toward the other side of the Bay, it felt like it was a distant yet connected landscape. I only wish that kind of place was more accessible, so people can directly get to this kind of quiet haven.
Coyote Hills: where water meets the land
How can a still place create sound? How can communities access nature?
︎Special Thanks︎ A big part of my work comes from inspiration drawn from my classmates, whether through conversations about their personal methodologies or time spent together at lunch, even in the journey of getting there. Truly, these six sonic walks would not have been as meaningful without their presence, feedback, and shared creative energy. Thanks!
