In Remembrance of the Buddha: Nianfo and the Monastic Soundscape
Introduction
I have recently been thinking about my experience in
2018 taking part in the 1-month “Buddhist Monastic Retreat”
(FGBMR) program at Foguang shan 佛光山 (Gaoxiong 高雄,
Taiwan)1. Situated within the
monastery, the course involved academic lectures in
Buddhist studies, workshops on monastic etiquette and
ritual, and services (e.g. wanke 晚課). In addition to
regular sūtra chanting (fanbai 梵唄), I also
participated in a workshop in the use of Dharma instruments
(faqi 法器), specialising on the humble wooden fish
木魚. The program led to some tourism as well with, for
example, a visit to the mountainous Foguang branch temple,
Qingde si 清德寺 in Nantou 南投. Here in particular we were
fortunate to hear a sublime presentation of the drum and
bell driven Evening-bell gāthā (Muzhong ji
暮鐘偈)2. Generally speaking my
experience at Foguang shan was rich in sound and listening.
It is here where I started to think more closely about the
study of sound and hearing in religious studies. Staying at
the monastery, I was immersed in a rich sonic fabric,
constantly oriented and informed about my surroundings via
different audio queues.

One aspect in particular that grabbed my ears was the
constantly playing nianfo 念佛 recording in the
Buddha-name recitation hall (nianfo tang 念佛堂). Intended
partly as an offering to Amitābha Buddha, it echoes the
descriptions of musical offerings happening simultaneously in
his western Pure Land (CBETA
T.360.12:0273c14). In terms of nianfo, it is a
practice crystallised in the six-character formula Namo
Amituofo 南無阿彌陀佛, chanted repeatedly in a variety of styles.
The intonation, meaning Homage to Amitābha Buddha,
subsequently originates in practices relating to the
“recollection” (buddhānusmṛti) of the qualities of a
Buddha. Within Chinese Buddhism, nianfo is usually
considered a soteriological practice3, pursued
with intent on rebirth in the western Pure Land4 [6]. In this sense, having to
pass by the hall daily on my laundry run, I was struck by the
fact that it was usually empty. I was curious about what it
means to hear an electro-acoustic reproduction of
nianfo, especially considering the salvific function of
hearing Amitābha’s name (CBETA
T.366.12:0347b18)? Can a speaker replace the human
chanter?
On Nianfo
Apart from musical offerings, non-musical sound is an
integral component in both the descriptions of the western
Pure Land, and its overall soteriological function. Among
the accounts found in the three authoritative Pure Land
sutrās5, music and sound arise
spontaneously from the environment for the benefit of the
hearer. This includes, for example, sounds ascribed to
natural phenomena, in which harmonious breezes wafting
through jewelled trees produce myriad wondrous sounds
(CBETA
T.360.12:0272a06). In Taishō 360, we also come
across descriptions of its native Bodhi tree (Daochang
shu 道場樹), the site where a Buddhas awakening is
achieved. The text describes how when subtle winds
(weifeng 微風) gently waft through it, wondrous
dharma-sounds (miaofa yin 妙法音) flow throughout other
Buddha-lands (Foguo 佛國). When heard, one achieves
deep insight into Buddhist truths (CBETA
T.360.12:0271a02).
The offerings described above parallel the qualities of
the western Pure Land, establishing a spiritually
efficacious environment for the (passive) hearer. Wordly
sounds, while a source of deluding sense-data (“dust;”
guṇa, chen 塵), are re-calibrated to serve
sentient beings, modelled after those in Amitābha’s realm
[2]. Here, one
is welcomed into a noise insulated and protected interior,
and immersed in the recollection of Buddhist teachings,
consolidated as the name of a Buddha. It is a form of
ritual sound engineering (or soundscape design), that
delimits spiritual time and space, and tunes the senses
towards religious sensibilities [4,3]. Furthermore,
as a type of acoustic architecture, it maintains the vision
of a “this worldly pure land” (renjian jingtu 人間凈土),
situated within a globalised Foguang shan eschatology
[1] . In
this regard, playing loud nianfo recordings among a
route where 30-odd cosmopolitan men will regularly pass
through is certainly fitting.

With the above in mind, the process of mirroring the
sounds of the Pure Land echoes the idea of mutual resonance
(ganying 感應) [8]. In this system, two
categorically similar things resonate with each other, with
the sound of our “this wordly” Pure Land tuning in
with those of Amitābha’s. Or as purported in the early
commentary of the Book of Changes (Yijing
易經), ‘notes of the same key respond to one another’;
(tong sheng xiang ying 同聲相應) [9]. Within the broader
Mahayana notion of Buddhahood, sound is the vehicle by
which Amitābha is able to respond to sentient beings in
need. It is the skillful means (upāya;
fangbian 方便) of the Buddhas to manifest the various
spaces and places inline with our specific wants (e.g.
CBETA
T.475.14:0554a28). This is possible due to the infinite
potential of the Buddha’s absolute nature, or
dharmakāya (fashen 法身), the crux of the
three-way division of the Buddha’s body. Any responses to
invocation are spontaneously carried out by the Buddha’s
resonance-body (yingsheng 應身), a notion
developed in China harmonising ganying with Indian
Buddhist thought.
Hearing such a recording is, therefore, a way of
tuning-in into this cosmic broadcast beacon, and the
immanent reality it conversely seeks to create. These
realities are further made possible by the intermediary and
material nature of sound. Sound informs us of time, space
and place, but it also has measurable physical qualities
(frequency, timbre etc.). Hearing is, in a sense, a form of
touching at a distance, with it’s tactile dimensions
becoming notably evident at lower frequencies (~20 Hz), as
vibration [7].
These substantial aspects of sound stimulate and sustain
spatial metaphors, enclosing the hearer within a religious
ambience. The process of attunement that follows moulds the
hearer in accordance with the relevant religious ideals
therein [5]. In this
sense, simply hearing nianfo can have spiritual
ramifications within the context of Pure Land practice and
thought [4].
Conclusion
This post explored in brief the electro-acoustic
reproduction of nianfo in contemporary Taiwanese
Buddhism and Taiwanese Buddhist monasticism. This is
especially in terms of the passive hearer, enveloped in a
religious soundscape, in which processes of mutual
resonance and attunement take place. Although this post is
under-theorised, I believe these kinds of sensory
approaches can provide complimentary insights in the study
of contemporary East-Asian Buddhism. Future directions
could potentially take into account other forms of sensory
architecture, such as those created by smell and taste. It
would be interesting to learn more about how, for example,
incense offerings in the context of contemporary Pure Land
Buddhism enhance religious space. This is particularly in
regards to the ambition of Foguang shan to establish a
this-worldy Pure Land, an attractive framework for the
above efforts.
References
[1] | Stuart Chandler. Establishing a Pure Land on earth: The Foguang Buddhist perspective on modernization and globalization. University of Hawai'i Press, Honolulu, 2004. [ bib ] |
[2] | Pi-yen Chen. Sound and emptiness: Music, philosophy, and the monastic practice of buddhist doctrine. History of Religions, 41(1):24--48, 2001. [ bib ] |
[3] | Christine Guillebaud. Soundwalks in shiva temple: A situated approach to perceived ambiance. In Christine Guillebaud and Catherine Lavandier, editors, Worship Sound Spaces: Architecture, Acoustics and Anthropology, pages 104--121. Routledge, Oxon, 2020. [ bib ] |
[4] | Natasha Heller. Buddha in a box: The materiality of recitation in contemporary chinese buddhism. Material Religion, 10(3):294--314, 2014. [ bib ] |
[5] | Charles Hirschkind. Religion. In David Novak and Sakakeeny, editors, Keywords in Sound, pages 165--174. Duke University Press, Durham, 2015. [ bib ] |
[6] | Charles B. Jones. Chinese Pure Land Buddhism: Understanding a Tradition of Practice. University of Hawai`i Press, Honolulu, 2019. [ bib ] |
[7] | R. Murray Schafer. The soundscape: Our sonic environment and the tuning of the world. Destiny Books, Rochester, 1993. [ bib ] |
[8] | Robert H. Sharf. Coming to terms with Chinese Buddhism: A reading of the treasure store treatise. University of Hawai'i Press, Honolulu, 2002. [ bib ] |
[9] | Donald Sturgeon, editor. Yijing 易經 [Western zhou 西周]. Chinese Text Project, 2022. Translated by James Legge (1815-1897). [ bib ] |
Footnotes
I believe this is also generally
referred to as the kouzhong ji 叩鐘偈, which also
includes a rendition for the morning (Chenzhong
ji 晨鐘偈). A poor quality version of the Foguang
Muzhong ji (sans drums) can be listened to at
YouTube via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBfevsR5F8c.
This is of course a simplification.
The act of invoking a Buddha’s name is also, for
example, used as a meditation object in Chan (Zen)
practice, akin to a huatou 話頭. In this context,
a spatial understanding of a “Western Pure Land” is not
necessarily important [6].
Known in Sanskrit as the Land of
Bliss (S., sukhāvatī; sometimes rendered into Chinese
as jile jingtu 極樂凈土).