The Sky Church

Adjacent to the entrance lobby, the Sky Church is the single most impressive room at EMP. Like the European cathedrals that inspired its design, this space encourages a kind of humility and reflection that one seldom associates with head-banging or guitar-trashing. The lighting is low but luminescent. A wall of tight metal chain rises on one side, in back of a somewhat compact stage, toward the distant ceiling. Obscured behind this wall, columns of LEDs -- forming one of the world's largest video displays -- illuminate in intricate, meditative patterns, as soft music plays. A 24-channel mixer fills most of a balcony on the opposite side of the room. On the far wall, Seattle's monorail train whooshes through the museum and past a window, giving commuters a quick glimpse at this inner sanctum.

On the top of each hour things liven up. The spacey soundtrack gives way to something more lively: a Santana selection, something by the Dust Brothers, an Airplane classic, or some other historic piece, all booming through approximately 50 custom-built JBL speakers. A platoon of mounted light projectors swings into synchronized movement, and high overhead, a flock of what look like parasols begin spinning and descending slowly toward the floor. During Harmony Central's visit to the Sky Church, the music was a mist of synth textures, water sounds, and bits of Hendrix and Pearl Jam, composed for the room by Gerard Howland, who also created the accompanying video and designed the room itself. (Howland, who has designed sets for the Rolling Stones, Disney, and other notable patrons, is featured in the accompanying video clip, Sky Church.)

After all the collision metaphors that guide the design of the exterior and entrance rooms to EMP, the Sky Church offers an opportunity to chill and be still. That stage, however, suggests that opportunities will come up for musicians to rock even this august house. (And yes, they intend to book wedding receptions here.)

Jammin' On Stage

They call him Reek Havok, and while he seems anything but straight-laced, he's got an ideal nine-to-five gig -- as emcee and chief enthusiast for EMP's On Stage concert experience.

It begins in a cramped little room that will feel strangely familiar to musicians. On a video screen a bald guy -- read: "manager" -- stands in a classic backstage area and pumps you to deliver a killer show. Suddenly the door flings open and Havok appears, flashlight in hand, to lead you and your band onto a darkened stage. You take your positions behind keyboard and drums, or pick up your guitar and bass. The lead singer stands at center stage, facing the mic stand. Out there -- read: a few feet in front of you -- the image of an expectant audience waits.

You nod to the stage sound guy, the ubiquitous Mr. Havok, who stands behind his mixer and bellows your introduction into his mic. Suddenly the crowd is on its feet, roaring and screaming. A song blasts over the speakers; during our visit, it was "Wild Thing." A teleprompter starts scrolling lyrics. Lasers knife through the stage smoke. And you're delivering the performance of your life.

The cool thing here is that you never hit a wrong note. You don't even have to be a musician. No matter where your hands wander on the guitar neck, you're sending the right MIDI signal to trigger searing guitar samples from the house E-mu/Ensoniq Emulator. What if you don't want some machine telling you what to play? No problem, dude; just ask Reek to disable the system, and you can wail away with your own lead, clams and all.

The essence of EMP is represented by the On Stage room. Paul Allen specifically wanted to offer a concert experience to visitors. His instructions sent the EMP technical staff into discussions about live performance: What is its appeal? How can it be captured in one tiny room? If you've done these kinds of gigs, you'll know, once you get your five minutes On Stage, that this comes pretty close.

By the way, don't forget to smile for your live performance photo. And if you want it mounted onto a concert poster, just let Mr. Havok know on your way out -- though it'll cost you a few bucks. And come to think of it, what better way to replicate the typical live performance experience, than to come off stage and find yourself out of pocket?

Next Page: The Sound Lab