After the final preview of a Rosendale Theatre movie screening, in recent weeks, the screen went blank. The audience was asked to close their eyes and listen to the compelling soundscapes that oozed from the screen.

If you witnessed this new feature, you’ve been formally invited to join the American Soundscapes Project, spearheaded by Lomontville resident Jim Metzner. After a lifetime of sound recording, radio hosting and global exploration, Metzner hoped to compile a library of sounds from his career, those of his revered peers, and ordinary people.

“The magical thing about sounds is that they transcend words,” Metzner explained. “Sounds touch in places where words can’t go.”

The first memorable sound that reached Metzner’s ears came through his window while growing up in Forest Hills, Queens, during the 1950s. A high-pitched, choppy wail shook the young boy, making him think that some ghostly specter was roaming the city streets. Years later, he stumbled upon the true source of the spooky sound in a book by journalist Tony Schwartz. Metzner knew he had heard the cry of the “rag man,” a name given to folks who bought old rags to be recycled into paper. The man outside his window was actually saying “pay cash.”

Interestingly enough, Metzner is working on a new book, called Adventures of a Lifelong Listener, which focuses on another mystery sound that shocks children of the Ilahita Arapesh people, who are native to Papua New Guinea. When children hear a deep, whooshing sound vibrating through the air, their parents tell them that it’s the call of a demon who preys on unruly kids, Metzner explained. When the children are initiated into full adulthood, they learn that the sound comes from a ritualistic instrument called a “bullroarer,” and the secret is theirs to keep from future generations. While Metzner didn’t see the connection between these children and the mysterious sound of his own youth, he loved discovering different ways that sound informs our understanding of the world.

“What makes a great recording is that you can revisit it and find new meaning,” Metzner said.

But Metzner wouldn’t start seriously recording until much later in his life. In fact, he thought that his life would be dedicated to acting after he was enrolled in Yale Drama School right out of high school. Metzner was especially drawn to “non-traditional” theater, like the work of Polish theater director Jerzy Grotowski. Metzner was determined to study under this creative pioneer and hopped on a plane to study under Grotowski after graduating from Yale. However, no matter how much he begged, Grotowski would not take him under his wing. With no other plan, Metzner took his creative juices to England.

Metzner then became a busker, or street performer, in various English pubs to pay his way through life for a while. He garnered enough of a reputation to land the opening act for the preview of Pink Floyd’s album “Atom Heart Mother,” to a crowd of nearly 20,000 fans in the early 1970s. Metzner went on to cut a record as well, with a single titled “Daddy I Want to be an Astronaut,” but he refused to sign the contract with the record company. He had 250 English pounds on the line, enough money to live off for a year at the time, but Metzner wasn’t pleased with the final product and the tune never saw the light of day.

Metzner returned to the states and continued gigging, but soon lost the love he once felt for music. He decided to study “ethnomusicology,” which Metzner described as the meeting of anthropology and music, at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. That’s where he discovered the audio recorder and first began recording everything that piqued his interest. The recordings that he took would turn into a series of CDs that became an extra source of income. One of his favorite CDs was titled “Bahia: Traditional Music and Moments of Brazil,” where he scoured the Brazilian communities for snapshots of their lives. His favorite recording from that CD was a cute conversation between a parrot and a young woman at a random rest stop. He was delighted by the giggles of the woman as her newfound feathery friend mimicked her Portuguese and the gem of a moment he stumbled upon.

After his second school stint, Metzner sold his CDs out of the back of his car while living in Boston and working as a substitute teacher. He took a chance and decided to bring the Bahia CD with him into the WEEI-FM radio station, placing a pair of headphones on the station’s director and hoping for the best. Luckily enough, the director loved his work and Metzner returned with a week’s worth of material while the station looked for a program sponsor. Three months later, Metzner got the call that his show was funded and he began collecting sound bites from the city for his show called “You’re Hearing Boston.” Metzner would go on to host the same show in San Francisco, before starting his first nation-wide broadcast called “You’re Hearing America.”

In 1988, Metzner started his longest-running radio show called “Pulse of the Planet.” The show was aired on over 250 publicly and privately owned airwaves (including WAMC and WJFF), reaching 200,000 listeners, according to the Pulse website. With two-minute soundscapes, Metzner brough listeners across the globe to experience different cultures and natural environments. However, Metzner felt that he did all that he could with the show and will air his last Pulse radio appearance on June 3. The show will still continue as a weekly podcast and offer expanded recording for its dedicated listeners.

Close to two years ago, the Library of Congress absorbed a lifetime’s worth of Metzner’s recordings into its collection. However, Metzner wasn’t sure when folks would actually be able to listen to them. In the meantime, he’s inviting his sound-professional peers and regular folks to submit their own sounds to the American Soundscapes Project. You can be part of Metzner’s soundscape movement by visiting his website: americansoundscapes.com.

“I hope that [this project] will inspire people to realize that we live in a world of sound that we often don’t pay attention to,” Metzner said.