Interested in using RX for your next sound design project? Give it a try free for 10 days below. Over the course of our two hour conversation, I learned intricate tips for using RX in the context of sound design. RX is a vital part of his workflow, and he uses it differently from how most do: watching him paint away extraneous sound out of a flock of flamingos is a lot like watching Bob Ross put a tree wherever he damn well pleases.
Not too long ago, he created the roar of the Tyrannosaurus for us not only to hear, but to feel. It’s an impressive display, but what I’m here for is even more impressive: Matt is a fellow who turns whales into synthesizers for a living-whales he’s recorded himself. Matt has crafted this whole setup to elicit a visceral, emotional response-even the chair is meant to do that, with its built-in sub-harmonic transducer vibrating what, I’m guessing, are my chakras. The lighting of the whole room changes its color with each passing mood, all in concert to the music. Each mood changes the sound palette completely, a driving beat transmogrifying into a wash of subtle, prickly sounds depending on the mood I choose. He had handed me an iPad, its screen labeled with various selectable moods.
I suspect this is a ruse, one meant to show me the studio’s goods-and the ruse is working.
rex’s roar for the American Museum of Natural History has left the building in search of coffee. Matt himself is nowhere to be found the man who engineered the sound of the T. I drove to one of those weird Brooklyn neighborhoods that might just be Queens, and I’m sitting in Matt McCorkle’s studio, my body alternatively pummeled and soothed by an array of Genelec SAM monitors hung about the room.
0 kommentar(er)
