Prior to entering the museum, I knew about three things about the exhibit. One, it was about sound. Two, it had something to do with Buddhism. Three, it was in some museum in the city that I had never heard of before. When exiting the museum, I knew, felt, and saw things I have never even thought about knowing or imagining.
My focus for this exhibit was on the juxtaposition between ancient and new and how this juxtaposition presented sound. The Rubin Museum is a beautiful, complex structure with technological advancements like speakers placed in strategic locations. The exhibit itself was composed of a labyrinth of soundproof walls and hidden speakers, providing the audience with a complete sound experience. Yet, the actual sound was something ancient and therefore, mysterious and captivating. Ancient Buddhist prayers were being projected to me in a room that looked almost futuristic in its design. The stark white walls contrasted deeply with the colorful intonations of the prayer, and that left me with this powerful yet serene feeling. Furthermore, I believe the only way the integrity of the Buddhist’s song and chants could be preserved is through the technology and architecture of the Rubin Museum. The soundproof walls and speakers allowed the sounds to consume all the space in the room and enter our minds.
This exhibit made me realize that sound is not something to be heard, but to be understood. I, as the Buddhists did, need to hear sound with my ears, mind, and heart. It is only then that I can say that I know what sound is.
