I was always aware of the necessity of a smart relationship between people walking in the streets and
those driving. To me it was never supposed to be two
distinctive worlds but one united system. One that
enables both communities of users to evolve and
benefit from each other with respect for the other’s
space and wellbeing. Addressing both needs in the
same architectural move, including acoustic. It was my
utopia, amongst many others. Today’s vehicles come
with acoustic qualities far different from what we used
to know. It is sound proof, not only from the inside but
soundless for the external world too. Electric engines
produce more harmonious whistles compared to their
predecessors. I was recently granted access to the
Acoustic sound studio at the BMW group, in Munich. A
facility where the manufacturer is shaping the sound
of the future in its own way, ‘crafting hertz’. An atmosphere that calls to mind strong references. It makes
me think of Heidi Slimane’s fashion and music shots,
Konstantin Grcic’s punk aesthetic, Arik Levy’s fractal
design, Air’s 10,000 Hz Legend with Ora-Ito’s architecture for the cover artwork and Daniel Arsham’s vision.
This is what Ludovic Parisot’s images convey. Standing alone, as well as a shadow and a mighty vibration
echoing the redefinition of the conversation between
the car and automotive industry; the city and us.
When thinking about the future one tends to imagine
the sound of chaos; a brutal, cold, electric noise. Or
just the opposite. An abyss of muted echoes, as featured in the movie Gravity, by Alfonso Cuarón. Do the
motorbikes featured in Tron: Legacy produce a sound
that is accurate to some reality? Cinematic experiences, along with Kubricks’ 2001: A Space Odyssey, have
somehow brainwashed us, molded our thinking. As
if we had some acoustic memories of the future. As
if the sound of the future was unrelated to any known
attributes. Nothing to be compared with. These interrogations remain relevant from both a music or an
urban perspective. I remember, as a child, crossing
streets and assuming that I could judge the appropriate moment to cross by the sounds of a car’s engine,
rather than the environment around me. Without
looking I mean. My feelings of safety were induced
by acoustic factors. It proved effective as I am here to
tell. I was deeply wrong and would take a big deal of
risks. Making my mother raise not only an eyebrow
but her voice too. I always believed in the welfare city
since my childhood. I wouldn’t refer to it like that at the
time; I was growing up in a city in which new districts
would be under construction all the time and one that
claimed to promote the ‘vivre ensemble’ or some kind
of ‘togetherness’. Because of its architecture and my
love of cars I trusted both as if designed to protect us
from any harms: indoor and outdoor.
Text by Andrée
Fraiderik-Vertino
Copyrights
Ludovic Parisot/
Accoustic/sound
Studio, BMW
group, Munich