Research equipment sits on the catwalk, suspended above the fiberglass wedges in the UI’s anechoic chamber. — Jordan Sellergren/Little Village

Deep within (OK, down a flight of stairs beneath) the University of Iowa’s Wendell Johnson Speech and Hearing Center is an anechoic chamber. The antithesis of an echoey cave, the ultra-soundproofed space prevents sound waves from bouncing off the wall or floor, creating a useful environment for audio research.

The chamber, built during construction of the Johnson building in 1967, is about the size of a double garage, but with four-foot fiberglass wedges jutting out on every surface. You enter through a large, walk-in freezer-type door (also covered with fiberglass wedges and honestly a bit intimidating) and proceed onto a grated catwalk that suspends you above the soundproofed floor. This is where experiments can be conducted.

It’s visually surreal, but things really get even weirder when the big door closes, revealing an almost complete absence of acoustic reflection.

Anechoic chambers like UI’s have assisted researchers in the development of modern hearing aids. — Jordan Sellergren/Little Village

Kirkwood Community College jazz director and musician Blake Shaw, who recorded the double bass inside the chamber in around 2016, described his experience: “When I was inside, even before I started playing, I noticed a creepy difference in atmosphere. When I would speak, it sounded more one-dimensional. When I started playing, it was super surprising at first. Usually when I play I can hear the resonance of my bass bouncing off all the surfaces around me. Instead, I’d make a sound and it seemed to just stay right in front of me. There’s an episode of Spongebob Squarepants where Spongebob is teaching Patrick Star to blow bubbles. On one failed attempt, he blows into the bubble wand to create a bubble that comes out all wrinkly and falls straight to the sea floor with a plop. That’s how my sound felt!”

For those lucky few who have ventured within, Iowa City’s anechoic chamber is an eerie and memorable experience. Unfortunately, in 2025 this room and the current Wendell-Johnson building enclosing it will be demolished. Maybe you’ll be able to find the musty old panels at University Surplus and build your own anechoic chamber someday. If not, you can always reserve an hour in a sensory deprivation float tank.

Jordan Sellergren walks the anechoic chamber catwalk in fall 2023.

This article was originally published in Little Village’s December 2023 issue as a part of Peak Iowa, a collection of fascinating state stories, sites and people.