With the rise of importance in data, comes a loss of story telling as traumatic experiences are represented through soulless numbers: death counts, maps, graphs. The desire for fact has left the “first hand account” as un-relatable to the contemporary audience due to its temporal distance; listeners are isolated from the accounter and from the events accounted [1]. Moshe Safdie’s Yad Vashem dissolves the barrier between account and story in his Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum on a hill near Jerusalem. The building consists of a curated set of atmospheres that work towards the formation of a narrative, left open to personal interpretation by each visitor. Through narrative structure and experiential spaces, the building itself transcends the exhibition housed within gaining its own identity external to its “museumness”.

 

 

The narrative begins upon entering a long triangular prism containing the main exhibition space. Its axial nature draws visitors towards the end, the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” [4]; however, circulation towards the end condition zigzags across the axis into each flanking exhibition room. The prismatic central volume cants inwards towards its halfway point as the curatorial narrative reaches its climax. The intense circulatory control brings about an atmosphere of bondage and brutality mirroring the dark moment it wishes to preserve.

 

 

Throughout the main section of the museum light filters through skylights placed along the pinnacle of the prism and strategically the flanking rooms. The muted and reflected light adds somberness to the space, dissolving shadow as the contrast approaches zero. Pockets of intense light appear through the narrative, breaking through neutrality as events in prosaic flow, an oral story telling more than novel as these penetrations necessitate a monotonic background.

 

 

Brutality, coarseness, and monotony are translated into concrete, a plastic material, bending to the will of the narrative: curving here, punched-out there, and polished to a dampened sheen. The entire prismatic structure is constructed of this submissive material. The walls are left au-natural, pining to be touched and followed through the story: bristling with unexpected globules or restful smooth sections. The walls become as integral to the narrative as the space they enclose.

 

 

The opression of the prism ends with a crossover space, a circular planned dome hanging in a greater space. The volume feels monumental and airy, juxtaposing the past cramped and submissive spaces of the prism. Lungs open as though the dome was a breath of fresh air; the muted light that was once monotonous becomes ethereal. The concrete, smooth and reflective, becomes comforting in its earthliness after the difficult journey from the past exhibition. This room is the story’s dénouement as the narrator pauses momentarily, a liminal transfer between story and conclusion.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​