ABSTRACT
The sound of the room: a seemingly contradictory stillness, the sort of stillness one equates with a confined space, and yet this room is vast. It holds a silence that presses on the ears and dares sound to happen. By invoking the works of another great architect, this chapter begins to understand that our ability to listen, so long taken for granted, is vital to our placement in the world, placing us always at the very hub of everything that makes up our experience. The chapter explores sound of sacred spaces, and at the heart of many faiths is this kind of stasis. It focuses on the soup itself, to listen without taking anything for granted. The circle holds significance of sound and transmits it. A whispering gallery sends murmurs around its walls, but purpose and intention in a place may also archive in memory as well as ‘broadcast’ itself, quality to which we respond, and through our presence, develop.
