World-Making and Sonic Space
A Process Reflection on Sound Objects
"As a composer and artist who primarily works with sound, Daniel is fascinated with the concept of space in sound/music. The psychological space that music inhabits in our minds as listeners, performers and/or creators, how sonic objects interact with each other in real-time and space, as well how a sound can evoke an image or landscape in our minds. It is truly astonishing how music can act as a catalyst between memory and real-time, how by listening to a piece of music, or hearing a sound, a world/memory (that perhaps no longer exists) from many years ago can be recalled in the mind of the listener and be relived in, if only for a brief moment." (Daniel De Togni website)
This page is inspired by the work and ideas of Daniel De Togni. He is a contemporary composer and sound artist whose work explores the immersive, affective, and spatial dimensions of sound. Drawing from traditions of experimental music, acoustic ecology, and collective memory, he creates sonic environments that blur the line between listening and feeling. His compositions invite audiences into spaces where sound becomes a bridge between inner experience, memory, and outer world. Click here to listen to his music and learn more about him.
The idea of sound objects in the statement above, and how they can evoke images and landscapes in our minds, is what prompts this reflection. What are they? And how do they evoke? These are questions I address from Whiteheadian or process point of view. It is often said that Whitehead offers, as it were, an acoustic cosmology in which the whole universe is understood on the analogy of sonic events in relation, not fixed entities in isolation. Daniel's music and ideas are, to my mind, instantiations of an event-based cosmology.
The idea of sound objects in the statement above, and how they can evoke images and landscapes in our minds, is what prompts this reflection. What are they? And how do they evoke? These are questions I address from Whiteheadian or process point of view. It is often said that Whitehead offers, as it were, an acoustic cosmology in which the whole universe is understood on the analogy of sonic events in relation, not fixed entities in isolation. Daniel's music and ideas are, to my mind, instantiations of an event-based cosmology.
Cosmology and Sound
Imagine a classroom or a lecture hall. A professor—perhaps a philosopher, physicist, or theologian—is standing at a blackboard, presenting the basic structure of a cosmology.
She draws circles to represent actualities—moments of experience, events, or entities. Then she draws lines between them, explaining that these represent connections: flows of energy, causality, or data. The universe, she explains, is made up of things (the circles) and their relationships (the lines). It all fits neatly into the language of space-time—nodes and vectors in a three-dimensional world.
The students listen. Some nod. Others take notes. It all makes sense.
But then a student in the back raises her hand.
“Excuse me,” she says, “but where are the sounds?”
The professor pauses, mid-gesture, chalk still in hand.
The student continues:
“You’ve drawn objects and lines between them—as if reality were made only of visible structure. But what about the voices, the songs, the cries, the thunder, the laughter? Where are the things we hear—not just with our ears, but with our whole being?”
Another student adds:
“Aren’t those sounds part of the connections, too? Don’t they bind us, carry us, move us? But the lines you’ve drawn are spatial. Sounds aren’t in that space. Sounds aren’t just physical paths—they move in a different way.”
And then it becomes clear:
Sounds are lines, too—but in another kind of space. Not three-dimensional, not visual. A sonic space. An affective space. A field of resonance and feeling. The vectors of sound are not geometric—they are experiential. They carry memory. They evoke mood. They enter us and echo long after the sound has ceased.
The chalkboard now feels incomplete. The cosmology needs revision. It must account not only for mass and motion, but for tone, texture, presence, and voice.
Sound Objects in Human Life
In human life, we are constantly experiencing sound objects—that is, objects we encounter through hearing with our ears or, as I propose shortly with help from the philosophy of A. N. Whitehead, through other modes of feeling. Examples include the steady chirping of crickets on a summer night, a familiar voice calling our name, the crash of thunder in the distance, or the sounds of music. These are more than auditory phenomena. They are felt presences—events that shape how we inhabit time, remember the past, and relate to the world around us.
In everyday English, when we speak of objects, we usually mean things in physical space—things we can see and touch. But sound objects do not fit neatly into this model. They are not visible to the eyes and they do not sit still in space like chairs or stones. They move. They arrive. They pass through us. They surround us. They call us into relationship. They linger in memory long after they’ve ended.
Sonic Space and Imaginative Perception
Sound objects inhabit a different kind of space—a sonic space—which is immersive, fluid, and intimately tied to feeling. From the perspective of process philosophy, particularly the thought of Alfred North Whitehead, sound object are best understood as events, as happening, not 'things.'
As events they come from the immediate past and carry within them energy and possibility; they are lures for feeling. They are not merely acoustic signals; they are energy-charged invitations that have causal efficacy of their own. A sound object carries within it a potentiality—a way the world might be experienced or emotionally interpreted.
When we listen, then, we are not merely perceiving information—we are being presented with possibilities for how the world might be felt. Sound invites us into a space of mood, memory, and meaning.
Sound, Memory, and the Process of Becoming
Sound objects have a special relationship with memory. A certain melody, a fragment of speech, even a creaking floorboard can conjure entire scenes from the past, complete with emotional coloration. This is because sound does not remain in the present alone; a sound, as felt, has the capacity to retrieve and revive what once was.
In Whitehead’s language, this is the function of prehension—the way past experiences are felt and re-integrated into the present. Sound becomes a portal through which we reconnect with the past, reshaping it in the present moment. In this way, it plays a role in our ongoing process of becoming, weaving together memory and immediacy into a single act of lived experience.
Three Dimensions of Sound Objects
If sound objects are not bound by the ordinary dimensions of space, how do we understand their presence? Here, Whitehead’s concept of the extensive continuum becomes invaluable. Unlike traditional space-time, the extensive continuum includes multiple dimensions of experience—some measurable, others emotional, temporal, or relational.
We might name at least three such dimensions that apply to sound:
- Temporal Resonance: Sound shapes our experience of time. A single note can stretch a moment into something vast or condense memory into an instant. Sound, especially music, reorganizes the temporal flow of experience.
- Emotional Echo: Sound reverberates within the listener. It stirs feelings, memories, moods—creating emotional depth that gives meaning to experience.
- Relational Field: Sound creates a shared space between speaker and listener, performer and audience, animal and environment. This is not abstract or merely symbolic—it is lived and felt. Listening becomes a relational act that brings us into contact with others.
Sound Objects in Moments of Experience
In process philosophy, every moment of experience is an occasion of becoming—a synthesis of the past and present into a new, lived moment. A sound object, though not the totality of this occasion, plays a critical role within it. It acts as a datum—a felt presence that contributes to the moment’s unfolding. It helps shape the texture, mood, and direction of the occasion.
Sound objects, then, are not merely accessories to experience. They are co-creative agents in becoming. They participate in the concrescence of experience—the coming together of many influences into a single moment of awareness. In this way, they help constitute who we are and how we feel.
Sound Objects as Lures for Feeling
We might then ask: What is the ontological status of a sound object? What kind of "being" does it have? Whitehead identifies eight categories of existence, including actual entities, prehensions, subjective forms, and propositions. Among these, I suggest that sound objects are best understood as propositions—not in the sense of verbal or logical statements, but in Whitehead’s metaphysical sense.
A proposition, in process thought, is a lure for feeling. It is an imaginative possibility—an offered way of interpreting or emotionally engaging with the world. Sound objects are, in this sense, auditory propositions: they present felt potentialities, emotionally imbued and relationally active.
They are not reducible to written or spoken language; they are felt through the body, carried by air, and shaped in the psyche. They come alive in experience, becoming real only as they are prehended—taken up and emotionally absorbed—by actual occasions of experience.
Implications for Cosmology and Music
If we take sound objects seriously—not merely as acoustic effects, but as events with experiential depth and relational power—then cosmology itself must expand. The universe can no longer be pictured solely in terms of visible structure and measurable location. We must also account for tonal presence, for sonic influence, for aesthetic vectors that move through relational and affective space.
This calls for a polymorphic cosmology—a view of the universe that is sensitive not only to mass and energy, but also to resonance, vibration, and meaning. In such a cosmology, sound is not derivative of matter; rather, it is one of the ways matter becomes meaningful. Sound becomes a mode of world-making, a vector of connectivity, and a means by which the universe feels itself.
For musicians, composers, and listeners, this perspective invites a renewed sense of responsibility and wonder. To make music is not simply to arrange sounds; it is to shape experience, to participate in the ongoing becoming of the world. Every note, rhythm, and pause can serve as a lure for feeling, a proposition offered to others—carrying within it the possibility of memory, healing, encounter, and transformation.
Musicians are thus not merely performers or entertainers. They are cosmic participants, shaping the field of experience for themselves and others. They draw from the past, offer something in the present, and open a door to what might yet be felt. In a world saturated with noise and distraction, the musician who listens deeply and creates attentively performs an act of cosmic generosity.
To attend to sound objects is to listen with reverence—to the world, to others, and to the possibilities of becoming. It is to join in the great conversation of existence, where not everything is said, but much is heard.