By Mauranda Men ’16, Staff Writer

The Kaltenbacher Hall, also known as Room 113 and the Kaltenbachtagon, possesses quite the famed structure. Newark Academy has upheld its proud tradition of bestowing the title of “hall” upon a larger-than-average room (ahem, dining hall), and this crown jewel of the New Wing has been caricatured by virtue of its very existence. With its specially cushioned versions of New Wing chairs and shroud of mystery, the Kaltenbacher’s architecture even birthed speculation, in the class of 2016’s freshman Spirit Week skit, that it was a time machine.

The hall’s defining feature, its shape, definitely stands out. In general, rooms are rectangular to minimize waste of rectangular building materials. The shape of a circle, however, is the one that can contain the most area with a set length or amount of hypothetically malleable materials. Octagons can have similar acoustics to rectangles because the walls still come in parallel sets and reflect sound back and forth in the same fashion. It is also closer to a circle, which is a shape conducive to echoes, for which acoustics experts often suggest furniture with sound-diffusing properties, possibly realized in the chair cushions. In addition, in high-ceilinged rooms like the Kaltenbacher, it’s often advised to place sound-absorptive materials up high, since the reflections off the ceiling can drown out nearby conversation with the ambient sound of far away in the room. Interestingly enough, high up by the ceiling, the wall panels of the Kaltenbacher are covered by gray pads. The room seems to strive for acoustical balance, with various hard surfaces, including all walls, glass, tabletops, and floor, which would be employed to minimize sound lag in larger spaces. In a space of this size, however, the lack of sound-absorbing materials can cause an abundance of echoes, especially in a completely closed octagon.

Interestingly enough, this structure is not what was originally envisioned. The Design Committee, the voice of students and faculty in the design process, “intended it as a sort of hangout space,” as humanities teacher and committee member Ms. Morin disclosed. She added that “it wasn’t supposed to be closed off to the hallway” but that the administration and logistics involved in the expensive sound system they ended up installing changed its purpose entirely. Ms. Grider from the Advancement Office explained the intention behind the Kaltenbacher rather differently, commenting, “We didn’t really have a multipurpose space. For example, if an entire class wanted to meet, it would have to use either the choral room or the auditorium, accommodations that might be otherwise engaged.” The administration, it seems, views the Kaltenbacher as a versatile but grand conference room.

There is reason to take pride in our own octagon, though. Top Google hits for octagonal rooms are notably grand, including the octagonal domed room at Monticello, formerly of a certain US president, the octagonal court at the imperial Domus Aurea in Rome, and various ads for luxurious “octagon suites” in hotels.

The Academy also touts the technological marvel that is the Kaltenbacher, with its projector screen that drops and raises at the press of a switch (even though the classrooms have done away with such primitive devices) and the speakers that extend out to the New Wing in case a presenter must maintain a substantial audience from the Kaltenbacher without invoking a fire hazard, not to mention the special lectern that must be employed for a vocal presentation to reach the expensive outer-Kaltenbacher sound system. The first three dimensions of the Kaltenbacher hall unmask it as simply a larger-and-more-pricey-than-average room, despite its sometimes larger-than-life regard.