Prologue

In the middle of the nineteenth century, a handful of painters left the studios of Europe and rode into the deserts, bazaars and sanctuaries of the East — not to imagine it, but to sit down inside it and look. They came back with sheets of paper that still hold the heat of that light.

Every work in this museum carries its own story. Open a painting, and listen.

Wing IV

The Sound Room

A generative soundscape, composed in real time — a low desert drone, moving wind, and sparse phrases on a hijaz scale. No recording; it never plays the same way twice.