{"id":464,"date":"2011-05-17T11:50:34","date_gmt":"2011-05-17T15:50:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/gap\/?p=464"},"modified":"2011-05-17T11:50:34","modified_gmt":"2011-05-17T15:50:34","slug":"i-was-looking-at-the-ceiling-and-then","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/gap\/2011\/05\/i-was-looking-at-the-ceiling-and-then\/","title":{"rendered":"I Was Looking at the Ceiling And Then…"},"content":{"rendered":"

I have been completely sucked into the series currently running on Slate<\/em><\/a> investigating the carvings inside Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland, and today’s installment<\/a> asks a musical question:\u00c2\u00a0 “Are the chapel’s mysterious stone symbols a musical score?”<\/p>\n

I’ve always associated the whole “amazing things in sand and sonic frequency” bit with the work of Alvin Lucier (and coincidentally, I just got a press release for a performance of his Queen of the South<\/em><\/a> yesterday), but if you scroll through to the end of the Slate<\/em> post, there’s a diagram laying out how the ornately carved ceiling of the chapel may actually read out as Chladni patterns, and therefore as a piece of music. I expect Dan Brown has already started writing his next installment. Meanwhile, check it out<\/a>!<\/p>\n

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And here’s a neat demo of the phenomenon, if you’re unfamiliar:<\/p>\n