AWASH IN SOUND (AND SIGHT). I recently had the pleasure of hearing the St. Louis Symphony perform music by Claude Debussy at Carnegie Hall. Sitting in the first row, just below the cellos, I was initially concerned that the sound would be severely unbalanced. Had the program been Sousa marches, the volume might have been overwhelming, but these selections washed over me gently, soothingly. To my delight, the Carnegie Hall acoustics came through, abetted by the relative tranquility of the program: Jeux and Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun. As I bathed in the sound, my thoughts naturally turned to you, dear reader. "How could I share this profound pleasure?" I mused, wishing you were luxuriating in the sonic bath beside me.

An answer came to me Monday as I drifted through the nooks and crannies of MOMA. On the second floor, there's a room devoted to an audio installation by Janet Cardiff. 40 Part Motet. A reworking of Spem in Alium by Thomas Tallis (2001) consists of a circular arrangement of 40 speakers, each channeling a voice performing Tallis's Spem in Alium nunquam habui. Together they comprise a virtual chorus. The experience of hearing the voices resonate in the chamber is marvelous, like standing within a circle of singers except that it's not as embarrassing to wander around listening very closely, putting your ear right by the source of each voice. It's a rare opportunity to contemplate the seemingly magical connection (or lack thereof) between individual voices and their aggregate sound.



Nearby is James Turrell's A Frontal Passage (1994), in which museumgoers enter a chamber infused with a reddish glow. If you happen to be passing by the museum on a Friday evening (when admission is free), consider paying a visit to these two rooms. They're part of an installation (PDF here) that will last until July 3, 2006. The chambers are not very large, but you might lose yourself in them anyway.

Photos: David Marc Fischer