THE VINYL CHURCH

The Vinyl Church was a conceptual, interactive, community-engaged art exhibit that invited visitors to reimagine what religion is in this contemporary moment. As the public-facing center of Machines in Between, the Church manifests a collaborative, socially-engaged approach to public humanities—serving as a community sanctuary where all are welcome to gather, browse, listen, and learn. 

Consisting of an extensive archive of wall-to-wall records, a perfectly calibrated hi-fi system, a turntable altar, pews, candles, devotional notepads, and engraved pencils, the Vinyl Church was staffed with deacons who had undergone months of specialized training in post-secular critique. The Vinyl Church showcased and distilled an essential truth of our present age—how our encounters with technology can serve to upend commonly held assumptions about the world, about ourselves, our beliefs and about each other. Indeed, it was the express purpose of the Vinyl Church to stage a perpetual scene in which there was little if any difference between the religious and the secular. The albums in the Vinyl Church were chosen for their insistence upon a world elsewhere; chosen for their intensities, desperate demands, and surplus of feeling; chosen for their longing, gnashing, bending harmonies, and crawling on your knees wailing. These are records that speak of good and evil, of God’s redemption, of standing awestruck, of ghosts and talking spirits and UFOs, of chakras, or working class liberation and racial justice, healing energies, and apocalyptic endings. 

“To enter into the Vinyl Church is to find yourself stepping into an underdiscovered room in which you have kept an unmanageable quantity of wonder, reverence, mystery, and joy. Go and be transformed!” — Peter Coviello, Professor of English, University of Illinois, Chicago

In addition to it’s regular weekly hours for drop-ins, the Vinyl Church hosted dozens of events and gatherings, ranging from experimental lectures by leading scholars of religion, musical performances, film screenings, poetry slams, photo shoots, programming for our community partners, “deep listening hours” for each episode of the audio series, as well as grief counseling sessions and therapeutic gatherings for adults suffering from mental illness. These events have been exhilarating in the range and diversity of the participants. And they have been incredibly effective in connecting with the public and making connections across demographics.

Throughout it’s year-long installation, the Vinyl Church became a space where neighbors, visitors, friends, and strangers could gather, not only to listen and learn about the music and religious traditions, but perhaps more importantly, to listen and learn from each other. We are amazed at how it became a manifestation of community- all different kinds of people coming together for respite, conversation, reflection and (dare we say) enlightenment. We learned how participatory art in this form can break down barriers, allowing us to approach complex and often controversial topics in a manner that creates connection, conversation and hope.

As one of our beloved Vinyl Church deacons, Franklin & Marshall student Roxy Calder beautifully summed up:

“I often saw my Sunday visits as confessionals. People from all walks of life sat in the pews as I listened to tales of religious trauma, career panic, growing pains, and dreams for the future. It was a cathartic experience of reflection and self-reflection, on a constant loop. As I spent my sunny Sunday mornings in the pews I learned about myself through learning about others. The Vinyl Church introduced me to this entire undercurrent of diverse and engaged people, who are working to make this community meaningful, in many lovely ways. I cannot begin to express how grateful I am for that. 

And, on a much larger scale, this entire process has been a much-needed lesson in collective and creative scholarship. It has shown me an academic world that is far from the stuffy or solitary image I have held in my head. It's a world that replaces competition with collaboration and sets a foundation for constant and productive reflection and change.”

Thank you to all who engaged with this project. We couldn’t have done it without the generous financial support from the Henry Luce Foundation and Franklin & Marshall’s Center for Sustained Engagement with Lancaster. A special thank you to our F&M student partners Roxy Calder and Issac Kelly, to Millersville student partner Sophie Fischer, and to our Machines in Between Community Partners, the Lancaster Conservancy and Music for Everyone. Thank you to Vinyl Church regulars, particularly Ariel Kornhauser and John Esbenshade; to Ron Leik for helping us construct the Church, to the Machines in Between super group of John Modern, Vincent Smaldone, Nicky Kroll, and Mike Newman, and all the Machines in Between collaborators for the technological and creative support; to Jenny Schulder Brant for creative consultation and beautiful photos, and to all our visitors and supporters from near and far.