Episode 426 – Archaeoacoustics in White River Narrows with Chester Liwosz

So this episode is a bit noisy as we recorded outside at the Alamo Inn, right on Nevada Route 93, the Great Basin Highway, where we had to contend with AC's and rural traffic.

What if rock art isn’t just something you see… but something you hear?

In this fascinating episode of The Art Box, Steve sits down with archaeologist Chester Liwosz to explore the emerging field of archaeoacoustics—the study of sound in ancient cultural landscapes—through the lens of the White River Narrows Archaeological District in eastern Nevada.

At the crossroads of the Great Basin and the Mojave Desert, White River Narrows (WRN) holds one of the most significant concentrations of petroglyphs in the region. But as Chester shares, these images may not have been created in silence. Recent work by Great Basin and California scholars is weaving together archaeological evidence with ethnographic records and oral traditions, revealing a deeper, more interconnected relationship between landscape, human behavior, and cosmology.

Central to this discussion is the idea of “spirit voices”—phenomena described in oral traditions that point to multisensory religious experiences tied to these sites. The very act of creating rock art—especially through the repetitive, rhythmic process of pecking stone—may have generated intentional sound, transforming the landscape into a kind of resonant instrument.

Chester discusses recent fieldwork conducted at a WRN site, where researchers tested how sound propagates through the canyon walls—echoes, reflections, and tonal qualities that mirror the kinds of sounds produced during rock art creation. These findings suggest that ancient artists may have been engaging not just with imagery, but with sound, space, and spirit in a unified experience.

This conversation opens a door into a world where art is not static, where stone holds memory, and where listening becomes just as important as seeing.

Come along as we explore a landscape that still hums with echoes of the past—and consider the possibility that some of those voices are still there, waiting to be heard.