In the Oude Kerk, sound is ever-present. Every footstep reverberates against the tombstones, every word is magnified by the sky-high plasterwork - and this has been true for centuries. The acoustics of Amsterdam’s oldest standing building have a character all their own, shaped by its architecture. What does this mean for sound-making today? And how does it affect the listener’s experience? Music curator Orpheu de Jong, organist titulair Matteo Imbruno and sound system architect Ivan Čuić share their views in the run-up to the first edition of Post-Space.
A church in movement
This year, Amsterdam is celebrating its 750th anniversary. But one building surpasses this number, standing incorrigibly on the soggy foundation of the lower lands. The Oude Kerk (which translates as ‘old church’) originated from its small predecessor form: a modest wooden chapel. In the second half of the 13th century, this chapel was upgraded to a stone version, and in the decades that followed, it underwent further alterations, slowly expanding to include a tower, additional halls, organs, and a lavish number of chapels on the flanks, ultimately taking on its current shape. Soaring 67 meters high, its Gothic silhouette now mirrors in the waters of Amsterdam’s historical canals.
One person very early on understood the beauty of the Oude Kerk. Drawn by the effect of the light through the stained glass windows, Dutch painter Emanuel de Witte made several interior paintings of the church over the course of his life, spanning from 1617 to 1692. These depictions were often less solemn than you might expect from a house of God: dogs peeing on the floor, a mother breastfeeding her child, children drawing on the pillars. Outside of services, the Oude Kerk was a vibrant hub where trading took place, concerts were attended, and even sailors maintained their sails and nets.
Fast forward to 2025, and the Oude Kerk is still used for small services on Sundays. However, as Christianity declined, the space was re-imagined and repurposed in 2016 when the church became a museum for contemporary art and music. The concerts have endured the passage of time, and at the invitation of the Oude Kerk, artists and musicians now create site-specific work that is exclusively showcased at the church for the first time.
'Seventy-five per cent of making a beautiful sound is acoustics'
The church as an instrument
Using the unique fall of light in the Oude Kerk, materials such as stone and plasterwork take centre stage in Emanuel de Witte’s paintings. The white plasterwork reaches far into the sky, where it meets the wooden vaulted ceilings. The high ceilings of churches are designed to enhance the religious experiences of their visitors; it is a stretch towards God, while the vast space creates an overall majestic sphere, emphasising the allure of the church institution. But these high ceilings had another consequence as well: a powerful reverb (the gradually decreasing persistence of sound in a space after the original sound source has stopped) reinforced by the stone, marble and glass materials that make up the church.
‘Sounds carry far and because of this reverb, everything gets the same beautiful colour’, Oude Kerk’s music programmer Orpheu de Jong notes. ‘The sound really envelops you.’ Orpheu de Jong is head of the music programme for the Oude Kerk, which encompasses the morning concert series Silence for which he invited artists such as Torus, Nazar, and Lorandiz, and the newly launched series Windows. For years, he has been closely involved with sound, whether as a founding member of Red Light Radio, as music curator for Het HEM, or decades of DJ’ing under his Orpheu The Wizard moniker. Today, he is facing the challenging task of curating the right sound for the echo chamber that is the Oude Kerk.
When walking through the church, every footstep you set on the marble gravestones is amplified, as well as the softest cough. The sound lingers around you, hanging densely in the air, before it slowly drifts off. This universal church experience is a cinematic one, elevated by the solemn atmosphere of the heavy materials, the familiar cold air and the muffled sounds from an unbothered city centre outside. It’s also as much a historic experience as a universal one, Orpheu points out: ‘The acoustics have remained for centuries, meaning you are sharing an experience with the people who walked through this space generations ago.’
The king of instruments
In addition to the church itself functioning as a resonant body, many are paired with what’s called “The King of Instruments”: the pipe organ. Matteo Imbruno prefers house organist over his official title, organ titulair: ‘It’s gezelliger.’ He has held this position for almost 30 years and knows the three organs the church houses inside out – especially the massive 4,000-pipe Vater-Müller organ, which turns 300 next year. ‘It’s the only organ in this style completely intact and one of the most beautiful organs in the world.’
Organs are such an integral part of churches that it makes you wonder what design came first: were churches built in a way that the sound of organs was perfectly matched, or were organs adapted to the spacious design and architecture of the church? Style-wise, these two elements didn’t exactly complement each other at Oude Kerk. The church features a Gothic architectural design, whilst the Vater-Müller organ follows the Baroque tradition. Matteo laughs: ‘“Un pugno nell'occhio”, we would say in Italian.’ Design-wise, the organ, which took on its current form during the Golden Age, was primarily built as a showpiece. It was a competition between municipalities to see who had the most beautiful organ, something that recalls the sound system battles between clubs today.
With an organ, you want the sound to fade a little, for which you make use of the acoustics of the church, Matteo explains. ‘Seventy-five per cent of making a beautiful sound is acoustics.’ Those acoustics are influenced and co-created by the architecture of the space. ‘The vaulted ceilings are made of wood, which absorbs sound as well as the sand underneath the gravestones. The plasterwork helps too: brick walls or concrete would not have been ideal for the sound. This is why the acoustics of the Oude Kerk are unique in this country - one of the best, in fact.’
The king of instruments
In addition to the church itself functioning as a resonant body, many are paired with what’s called “The King of Instruments”: the pipe organ. Matteo Imbruno prefers house organist over his official title, organ titulair: ‘It’s gezelliger.’ He has held this position for almost 30 years and knows the three organs the church houses inside out – especially the massive 4,000-pipe Vater-Müller organ, which turns 300 next year. ‘It’s the only organ in this style completely intact and one of the most beautiful organs in the world.’
Organs are such an integral part of churches that it makes you wonder what design came first: were churches built in a way that the sound of organs was perfectly matched, or were organs adapted to the spacious design and architecture of the church? Style-wise, these two elements didn’t exactly complement each other at Oude Kerk. The church features a Gothic architectural design, whilst the Vater-Müller organ follows the Baroque tradition. Matteo laughs: ‘“Un pugno nell'occhio”, we would say in Italian.’ Design-wise, the organ, which took on its current form during the Golden Age, was primarily built as a showpiece. It was a competition between municipalities to see who had the most beautiful organ, something that recalls the sound system battles between clubs today.
With an organ, you want the sound to fade a little, for which you make use of the acoustics of the church, Matteo explains. ‘Seventy-five per cent of making a beautiful sound is acoustics.’ Those acoustics are influenced and co-created by the architecture of the space. ‘The vaulted ceilings are made of wood, which absorbs sound as well as the sand underneath the gravestones. The plasterwork helps too: brick walls or concrete would not have been ideal for the sound. This is why the acoustics of the Oude Kerk are unique in this country - one of the best, in fact.’
A centuries-old concert tradition
Besides reparations and tuning, Matteo regularly invites organists for concerts and guides artists who make use of the organ. There’s one artist he really holds in high regard: ‘The tradition of organ concerts began in the Netherlands, in the Oude Kerk, with composer and organist Sweelinck.’ These concerts were highly accessible and took place outside of the service's hours. Everyone could just walk in, have a little chat, and get some work done - accompanied by background organ music.
Tapping into modern-day rituals and activities is the morning concert series Silence, a long-running event that predates Orpheu's tenure at the Oude Kerk. ‘People just woke up, are still fresh and in that state, visit the church for a performance of one hour. It’s interesting to notice how everyone has their own rituals; some bring a blanket, others have their own fixed spot, some experience it with their eyes shut throughout the full performance, others walk through the church.’
'The sound can truly move around you without feeling very directional'
The space makes the sound
Even though organ music can be pretty intense, the Oude Kerk is really suitable for it. A comparison Matteo makes: The organ of the Westerkerk (in English: Western Church) in Amsterdam is five times louder than that of the Oude Kerk because there is more reverberation (which increases the volume). This works perfectly for certain types of music, especially music from the 19th century. For busier music with a lot of voices, the Oude Kerk is the designated space. Matteo: ‘There is some reverberation, but it still feels very calm. It doesn’t thunder into your ears.’
Curating electronic music in a reverb chamber intended initially for a complex acoustic instrument like the organ seems quite a big leap, but because the Oude Kerk is attuned to busy music, Opheu notices a lot of opportunities. ‘The biggest realisation has been that you need so much less volume in this space to hear something well and comfortably. The sound can truly move around you without feeling very directional. Rhythmically complex music is therefore a bit more challenging, while organic or textured sounds work very well.’
Activating the church
‘Somehow, every new space feels even more exciting than the last.’ Kantarion Sound, founded by Ivan Čuić, is an Amsterdam-based sound system experienced in working across diverse spaces, each requiring a custom tuning and site-specific setup. It forms part of the interior in many listening and club spaces, such as murmur in Amsterdam and LAAK in The Hague, but for single events, the system has been set up in the most strange and versatile spaces, from forests to courtrooms and libraries - the system stacked in tune with each location. Earlier, we spoke with him about his holistic approach to sound, now, he will be activating the church for the first edition of Post-Space.
‘When I arrive in a new space, I try to explore it, sense it, seek things I find interesting and most importantly, spend time in it. I also like to take photographs, record sounds, and revisit those outside of the space.’ The design of the Oude Kerk grabbed Ivan’s attention during the first location visit for this event: ‘Sonically, I hear interesting things in the ceiling area due to the height and curved arches. I expect the sound system to behave completely differently from the ‘usual’ spaces, as the church's reverberation time is very long. This feature is something that cannot be changed, but it can definitely be worked with.’
Setting up a sound system for a church is a significant undertaking and an ongoing process. After the first location visit, Ivan brought a basic portable speaker for the second visit to perform several experiments. It’s always a lot of trying out and tweaking, but the church might ask for more extensive sonic research, and eventually, even result in a somewhat ‘unconventional setup’, Ivan forecasts. For the first edition of Post-Space, he lets himself be guided by the architecture of the church, as he will turn the sound system upwards, following the vaulted ceilings, instead of the usual forward-facing setup. ‘The idea is to mostly focus on reflected sound, coming from above and around, rather than direct or in front. With this approach, I will strive to activate the church and utilise its properties in innovative and beneficial ways.’ But this doesn’t come without challenges. Where Matteo is jubilant about the material features of the acoustics, such as the sand underneath the marble floor (and no floor heating!) and the wooden ceiling vaults, there are still some materials Ivan will have to work around, or rather, with. ‘In “regular” spaces, reflective materials such as concrete, plaster, and glass tend to create unpleasant sound environments. So, to minimise interactions from the space and this altering the sound experience, I try to minimise echo, reflections and position the sound system and audience as close as possible to the direct sound.’
A deep listening experience
It’s clear that the perception of sound for all three professionals - organist, curator, and sound system architect - is influenced by the shapes, structures, and materials of the church. It makes one wonder: what about the visitor’s perspective? Where can we hear the Oude Kerk’s sound best? ‘In the middle of the church, at the pulpit, you’ll hear the totality well’, according to Matteo. Orpheu adds: ‘Move through the space so you can experience the different distances to the sound and the different falls of light.’ Ivan has an organic approach from the perspective of his sound system: ‘I will work on creating a wide sound environment where the audience has a possibility to intuitively choose a position. Sit and lie down, but also move around and explore acoustically.’ It seems that listening is more than finding the optimal spot. It’s about exploring the space around you, the way it interacts with sound, and fully immersing in the atmosphere at hand by surrendering the body and mind. It’s not only about where you listen, but also how you listen.
This type of listening – deliberately attending to the structures and shapes of the church, and the way sound moves up along the curved ceilings to reach the back in full force — is what composer and sound art pioneer Pauline Oliveros would call ‘deep listening.’ It is the art of listening and responding to environmental conditions. Echo and reverberation are particularly part of her interest, as these sounds stand in direct relation to the space where the sound takes place. The Oude Kerk and Minimal Collective now open the floor to practice attentive listening - guided by this editorial series - for a moment where sound stands in direct relation to the architecture, but also to churches everywhere else in the world - in the present, the past, and the future. Just as Emanuel de Witte regarded the incidence of light that stayed the same over centuries, so too can sound be approached - if you listen attentively.
Join us on October 10th at the Oude Kerk, where Kantarion Sound will set up a site-specific system for a night of listening, featuring Emika Elena (DJ), KMRU (Live), Loek Frey (Live), Perila (Live), and Richard Skelton (Live). Doors open at 19:30, and the programme runs from 20:00 to 01:00 – get your tickets here.
