The sonority of languages we cannot hear

Still thinking about what to do.

Which led last night to zoning out on the back porch, watching fireflies till the mosquitoes got too greedy, and then continuing the zoneout in front of the TV set. Saw this PSA and was transfixed. Ran to the computer and watched it a few dozen more times.

I’m entranced by the internal space and rhythm of the language — American Sign Language or ASL (I was fascinated to learn while writing this that ASL and British Sign Language [BSL] are not cognate languages — and indeed, the fingerspell for BSL is strongly different because the letters use both hands. ASL is derived from the French sign language tradition. If you learned fingerspell in the US look at the link to BSL above — it’s truly fascinating. Interestingly, LSM [Mexican sign language] is cognate to ASL but apparently not to Spanish, although you can also fingerspell into the Spanish language).

All of the words are presented in a particular plane directed at the viewer, and even though the spot is only thirty seconds long by the first ten seconds I feel myself responding physically to the speaker. I particularly like the way the acronym CPR is signed: this begins at 0:15 with the letter C (the speaker opens her right hand and forms her fingers in the shape of a C), dips down to make the P (thumb inserted between the index and third fingers, with the palm of the hand toward the speaker) and then smoothly flips back up to make the R (index and third fingers crossed with the palm away from the speaker). I also like the visual contrast between the fluidity of “it’s easy” (speaker moves her palms toward her body, a bit like she’s fanning air toward herself) and “effective” (the strongly crossed forearms with the hands in fists. Literally she’s saying “it works” — the crossed forearms with hands in fist is the sign for the verb “work”). Then her hands burst out of the space she’s created at the end of that phrase to move into the next sentence. I love that energy, but also the feeling of calm at the end when she brings her hands back to her solar plexus.

This is beautiful, sonorous speech. I wonder whether Mr. Armitage could play a Deaf character or would want to — having to say so many things within a rhythm he created with his hands. I wonder how the Deaf community feels about having hearing actors play Deaf characters, as there’s a Deaf theatre scene in the larger cities in the U.S.

But to demonstrate, acknowledging these reservations, these are caps from the interview with him on the second season Robin Hood DVDs, contrasted with signs from the American Sign Language Handshape Dictionary. (A handshape dictionary is a reference work that allows you to locate the meaning of the sign from the form of the sign as it is actually made — as opposed to an English / ASL dictionary where you look up a word and it explains how to make the sign. There are 26 handshapes in ASL. Open palm is the sign for “B,” so if you see a sign that begins with an open palm you look in the “B” section of the dictionary. Then you look as necessary for one-hand signs and two-hand signs.) Apologies to all the Brits for doing this in ASL. Until about twenty minutes ago I didn’t realize the languages weren’t cognate. I only know the little bit of ASL that I know because of my cousin, who’s a fellow U.S.-American.

This is an obvious one: the ASL sign for “ask”:

Source: RichardArmitageNet.com

Then there’s this one, for “move forward”:

Which you can imagine him being just about to start here:

Source: RichardArmitageNet.com. This is also a classic instance of what I originally called “Armitage equilibrium,” which always has a nice effect on me.

Here he’s signing the ASL letter “d”:

Source: RichardArmitageNet.com

And this is the ASL for “narrow,” also a nice instance of Armitage equilibrium:

Source: RichardArmitageNet.com

Speech with the hands: beautiful. Sonorous. For all concerned.

~ by Servetus on June 28, 2011.