I walked up and I saw people imprisoned behind a glass window with a device that made their voice sound a bit robotic and lights formed into letters, creating words. There is also an opening at the bottom glass small enough to slide my hand through. As I enter, it smells like tortured corn seeds and there is a guide who rips paper in half as he points to the direction you’re headed. I walk in to an almost dark room like a miniature coliseum at night with soft benches as if you were to sit on a bed and that spring up every time you stand. I have seen paintings but I have never seen them move and produced noise.