Parking

A commercial parking garage is not usually where you’d want to record. There are people and cars and uncontrollable echoes bouncing off concrete. But this is exactly why the quartet of Jean-Luc Guionnet, Eric La Casa, Philip Samartzis, and Dan Warburton found the idea appealing; to adapt to the building’s odd resonance, to improvise with uncontrollable occurrences. In 2007 the group collaborated in the garage underneath the Cité de la Musique in Paris, with Guionnet on saxophone, Warburton on violin, and La Casa and Samartzis recording. In 2021, during a Covid-19 lockdown, they had to record separately, with Guionnet and La Casa in Paris and Samartzis in Melbourne. The earlier recordings are a collaborative exploration of a completely unpredictable space (see the symphony orchestra suddenly piped into the garage in track two). The latter recordings are quieter and speak to the distance between participants: air vents and refrigerator units rattle and hum in Australia while a saxophone wails into emptiness in France. Though they were recorded 14 years apart, the two pieces complement one another perfectly, showcasing the dynamic breadth of sonic activity in spaces we normally take for granted.
The Best Field recordings February 2024, Matthew Blackwell, bandcamp

Latest release from La Casa’s label is another very successful alignment of site-specific documentary recordings with a form of improvised music…not too far apart in its intentions and its results from the Installations record, which we heard in 2021, and likewise involved the participation of Guionnet. Jean-Luc Guionnet is himself no stranger to actively engaging with buildings and architecture, staging unusual performances across many rooms of a gallery, or responding to the acoustic properties afforded by any enclosed area. Here, the assembled team are doing it with underground parking garages in Paris and Melbourne; Guionnet and Warburton played their sax and violin, La Casa and Samartzis did the recordings (and edited the tapes). Perhaps I should point out that this isn’t a recording of a concert of some sort; although the players are seasoned improvisers, their musical contributions are quite minimal, and may be intended to act as some sort of reference point or marker, to make a wider statement about the urban space that surrounds them. It’s to do with “the acoustic, spatial and material character” of the parking garage, as Samartzis points out in his very articulate notes, detailing many audio nuances of the two chosen sites which we might have overlooked. And indeed the circumstances of the recordings, since the second piece ‘Parking 2’ – a combination of recordings from Paris and Melbourne sites – was conducted during COVID lockdown, and Samartzis takes an interest in the sounds made by lights, air vents and refrigeration units, which only became audible when normal human activity was reduced to zero. Meanwhile we also have the testimony of Jean-Luc Guionnet and his story about life in a 1970s apartment block and his observations about the parking garage; his vivid descriptions show his acute perception of air, space, sounds, and colours, disclosing a lot of pragmatic truths and harsh realities about urban living that have never occurred to most of us, not least the town planners and architects who devise these spaces. To come to terms with all the noise and air pollution, and to process his thoughts and ideas, Guionnet made lots of sound recordings, recordings which were later repurposed into compositions; all of his work should be mandatory listening for any student enrolling at the École nationale supérieure d’architecture in Paris. I see the three of them (minus Warburton) have appeared before on Soleil D’Artifice (2009) and Stray Shafts of Sunlight (2013) on this same label. I can see how this release aligns with La Casa’s general sound-art agenda, which concerns itself with urban spaces, hidden and hard-to-detect sounds, and a general interest in everyday spaces which we take for granted or tend to overlook. An underground parking garage is potentially quite a banal zone, but La Casa and the team not only manage to explore its space in sonic and musical terms, but also discover and create something of beauty.
Ed Pinsent The Sound Projector September 2025

Since I never learned to drive cars, I am rarily in parking houses and yet when I am I find these fascinating places. The smell of cars and gasoline, the massive, reverberant space and seeing how quick people want to leave such spaces. It’s this kind of space that is central on the disc ‘Parking’. There are two players of instruments: Jean-Luc Guionnet on saxophone and Dan Warburton on violin and they play improvised music in a parking space; well, two actually in ‘Parking 2’ (i’ll get to that). Two musicians in such a space could be interesting enough but it’s also the way the music is recorded and there we have Eric La Casa and Philip Samartzis as roving reporters. They move around the players capturing the music from various distances and thus allowing for more space; or less. They recorded the first piece in 2007 at the Parking Cité de la Musique in Paris; all clear. There are no cars sounds in either piece and one gets a clear idea of the massive of the space, and the way sound travels; especially Guionnet’s sax travels far and keeps resonating. Towards the end there is some other music coming in; from a car, from outside? I don’t know. At times it is quite a spooky piece, sometimes full of sonic life and sometimes seemingly absent.
‘Parking 2’ is a bit of a mystery. From what I understand the same principle, but recorded in 2021 when public life was restricted, and using two parkings, Parking rue de Maronites in Paris and Victoria Gardens Carpark in Melbourne. I know that’s the city where Samartzis lives but how did recording go in this case. Did he tape his carpark and La Casa his in Paris with the two players? I can only surmise that’s how it went. What Samartzis writes in the booklet, is something I can hear; due to absence of human activity, the other sounds (lights, vents and so on) became more audible. Maybe that’s his part mixed in with the Paris segment of the recording? Overall this piece seems to be working less with the close by/far away thing, and it all stays more or less on the same dynamic level. Also, ‘Parking 2’ seemed to be a more organised piece of music. All of this means both tracks are quite different from each other. I have no preference for one or other, as both deliver quite interesting listening experiences. I suppose this makes you experience carparks quite differently next time.
Frans de Waard, Vital Weekly 1429

Quatre paysagistes s’adonnent, à 14 ans d’intervalle, à une expérimentation sonore dans les sous-sols de la cité de la musique. Ce que l’on désigne par le terme générique d’art sonore n’hésite pas, et ce depuis un siècle, d’élargir nos capacités d’écoute ainsi que d’investir, de complexifier nos rapports entre le son et son lieu. Ce n’est donc pas un hasard si des musiciens comme Eric La Casa, Jean-Luc Guionnet, Philip Samartzis et Dan Warburton se retrouvent dans un espace aussi atypique qu’un parking pour enregistrer deux sessions improvisées et ce, à quatorze années d’intervalle. Ces enregistrements font d’ailleurs partie de la « collection Paris » d’Eric La Casa édité par Swarming depuis 2017.  La première session, qui réunit tout le monde le 7 mai 2007, se déroule dans le parking du parc de la Villette à Paris, et dont les barrières avaient déjà fait l’objet d’un album, Barrières Mobiles, sorti l’année dernière). Le parking, qui se trouve juste en dessous de la Cité de la Musique, fait l’objet des captations sonores directes et sont mises en dialogue avec des instruments comme le violon ou encore le saxophone. Les musiciens n’hésitent pas à exploiter le potentiel acoustique des lieux et de la manière dont les différentes sonorités des instruments investissent l’espace qui, en retour, façonne la qualité acoustique de leurs médiums. 
Le choix d’un parking en dessous de la Cité de la Musique se justifie dans le lien symbolique qui se fait entre une telle expérimentation sonore et un lieu dédié à l’histoire de la musique ; or ce lien se concrétise aussi physiquement quand on entend un des musiciens (Eric La Casa?) demander à un responsable (un vigile?) par téléphone d’« envoyer la musique ». A partir de là s’introduit, dans l’enceinte du parking, une musique symphonique classique (une valse?) qui entre en tension avec celle improvisée, tout en se modelant selon l’espace acoustique si spécifique du parking ; tantôt lointaine en fond tantôt avançant vers le devant de la scène, elle devient un outil efficace pour dessiner les contours de l’environnement physique et sonore des musiciens dont le jeu résonne dans un dialogue ouvert entre le passé et le contemporain de la musique.  La deuxième session d’improvisation est un montage de deux enregistrements qui ont lieu dans deux espaces distincts, à savoir le parking de la rue des Maronites à Paris (20e arrondissement) par Eric La Casa, et celui de Victoria Gardens à Melbourne (Australie), avec Philip Samartzis durant la période du Covid-19. La fréquentation de ces espaces étant arrêtée subitement, le vide qui s’y installe devient plus palpable et devient l’intérêt principal des captations des éléments des infrastructures comme le bruits de néons, des tuyaux de réfrigération ainsi que les guichets de paiement, dont la musicalité souterraine se trouve exacerbée et amplifiée.  On est interpelé, en tant qu’auditeur, par le contraste qui s’y déploie avec la session de 2007, où l’espace acoustique compartimenté du parking change de fonction, passant d’un dispositif spécifique à la matière même de l’enregistrement, le confinement général influant sans surprise sur la manière même de composer et d’improviser. Si, avec Parking 2, le travail minutieux de La Casa et Samartzis permet de suggérer une expérimentation sonore qui travaille avec ces différentes limites imposées, qu’elles relèvent du physique, du social ou de l’administratif, il permet d’éclairer, à travers la mise en parallèle avec la session improvisée qui a lieu pourtant une dizaine d’années auparavant, le façonnement d’un espace par l’usage, par la fréquentation, tout ceci révélé par l’expérience et l’exercice sonore.
Umut Ungan, Pinkushion 11 mars 2024

A new addition to Eric La Casa's investigation of all things sonic. Previously he's offered us beautiful assemblages of sounds from, among other places and things, his apartment, a construction site and a series of urban barricades. Each one of these hid surprise and unexpected nuance. The sets collected here are of two underground parking spaces being activated by a pair of improvisers while two recordists wander, following their ears. Pairs and pairs and pairs. I won't be so gauche as to suggest that one can smell the oil and rubber attendant to such spaces, but having played in a few myself I get a definite sense of familiarity. The long reverberation time and odd dislocation effects, occasional bumps or tinkerings all add to a sense of exploration and open-mindedness. The garages become the defining character, at one point interjecting bits of conversation and blasts of classical music, which sax and violin attempt valiantly to drown out. This creates a palpable tension, at least for me, and I'm very much relieved when it finally ends. A bit of engine noise (of course!) but oddly, no squealing tires. Imitations of warning chimes and wind through enclosed spaces, and notes held long for detailed examination. As stated, there are two different garages represented here. The second recording begins with some sort of mechanical sound over which Guionnet pipes a repeated series of notes, holding the last for several seconds and letting it morph. Either he is moving or one of the recordists are because the timbre shifts ever-so-slightly. In the midst of this we hear a door slam and it's perfect. Mechanical sound returns, possibly an air compressor, and Guionnet continues on, unperturbed. A car outside my house joins in, causing me to think about the connections in my listening. That's what the whole enterprise is about, really.
Jeph Jerman, Squid Ear May 2024

Site specific recordings are endlessly fascinating. Particularly where the location’s unique characteristics shape the compositional process. These particular recordings come from commercially operated car parks, fourteen years apart. There is something about these enclosed concrete spaces – ready made reverb containers that make so much sense. Sounds can bounce around in there and it sounds like we’re deeply submerged within a dream. It’s the work of French saxophonist Jean-Luc Guionnet, British violinist and composer Dan Warburton, French sound artist Eric La Casa and Australian sound artist Philip Samartzis. Interesting the trio, minus Samartzis had previously released another site specific improvisatory work, Métro Pré Saint-Gervais in 2002, which saw them set up in the Paris metro station during the last two hours of service. Here they’ve found themselves in the heady days of 2007 in a parking garage located at the edge of Parc de la Villette, beneath the Cité de la Musique, in Paris. Whilst Guionnet and Warburton sparsely improvised on their instruments, La Casa and Samartzis recorded. No one seems particularly interested in musicality, dynamics or tempo, rather the duo go to pains to emphasise their interaction with their environment, utilising distance and space. There are scratches, scrapes, crashes the sounds of heavily reverberated dragging and extended techniques on their instruments. The saxophone in particular can sound like its coming from a whole different floor away, and seems to gather reverberations as it approaches. It’s immense and beautiful, with very little attack. That’s until there’s so much attack that it feels positively percussive. This instrument in particular feels coloured by the environment. It’s a work that blurs the boundaries between site specific improvisation and sound art due to their explicit desire to use the natural resonances of the garage. The second pieces were recorded during lockdown and are a little more difficult to determine what exactly is going on. They retain the same desire of the first pieces to negotiate an interaction between the underground concrete environment and the musical. They were recorded during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic at the Parking rue de Maronites, Paris, and Victoria gardens car park, Melbourne. Without Warburton’s violin these pieces feel sparser, though perhaps to compensate there are more non instrumental sounds, such as the whirr of electronics, birds and car sounds. There’s also more repetition from Guionnet. As I listen I repeatedly have to turn down the music just to check where the sounds are coming from, a plane noise (mine), or a car reversing (mine), piped classical music (them), car door slamming (them), dripping water (them) and it all just coalesces into a fascinating ear opening sonic experience. Their musical environment and recording techniques have clearly affected their sounds to the point where its like another instrument, while my listening environment, speaker configuration, volume dial, and open window affected my listening experience. That’s the beauty of this kind of deep listening experience it can never be the same twice.
Bob Baker Fish, Cyclic Defrost July 14 2024

The art of recording sound in the field is one of radical subjectivity, by the mere fact that it archives what happened at a particular place in a particular time. Never the same river twice, as it were. With microphone in hand, Éric La Casa has set foot all over the world, though he has a special, understandable affinity for Paris. Philip Samartzis is his equally well-traveled Australian counterpart. There are any number of far-more convivial places to spend any time in than a big city parking structure. Their very design however – all that angular concrete and broad, smooth, sloping surface – led the two sound artists to bring their friends, saxophonist Jean-Luc Guionnet and violinist Dan Warburton, to lots in Paris and Melbourne, one of which, possibly without irony, lies beneath the Cité de la Musique cultural centre. In four pieces – two pair recorded fourteen years apart – the musicians improvise as do the recordists, moving closer, then farther away from them, and then back again in a different trajectory, becoming not objective reporters but rather subjective co-creators – beings in the world, as Samartzis would put it. The saxophone does not wail the blues and the violin does not tear off a fiery reel. Instead, they offer short, sharp bursts or sustained keening, in intentional or muscle-reflexive reaction to the space and its environs. The architecture of the instruments themselves is also explored – the flex of the reed, the well beneath the strings. Over the ambient hum of urban life, water trickles, flourescent lights buzz, machines start and stop, discreet footsteps patter, The saxophonist toots and tweets, issues clarion calls and vuvuzela drones. At one point, a full orchestra is piped in (could it be the Philharmonie de Paris rehearsing above?). On “Parking 2a”, the air is freighted with absence and the sax is soulful and lonely, a blues for the pandemic. Meanwhile in Australia, things are calm but more colorful – voices, birdsong, car engines turning over and departing. Each piece is lengthy, allowing a full fresco to unfurl so that we may experience what La Casa refers to as the renewal of our relationship with our actually rather remarkable daily surroundings. Stephen Fruitman, Avant Music News August 2024