The Sound of Kulm
By
Mathis Neuhaus
Staying at the Kulm Hotel is a journey for all the senses, with each one taking center stage at different moments. But there is always something to hear. Imagining the sound of the Kulm comes easily, and initial impressions often match expectations: carpets, fabrics, and textiles soften the acoustics to a consistently pleasant level. In the richly draped lobby designed by Italian designer Renzo Mongiardino, conversations can unfold calmly and concurrently.
One hears, just as anticipated, a variety of languages, highlighting the hotel’s international appeal: German, Italian, Portuguese, Japanese, French, Russian, and, of course, English. This evokes a sense of global connection, much like the ambiance at an airport gate bound for somewhere. Guests who have just met discover a shared language and engage in animated conversation. As they part, they exchange warm and generous words: “If you ever need anything in Poznan, please let us know.” The pleasant rustle of a newspaper drifts through the air, as does the less charming, but not unwelcome, tapping of an iPhone or iPad. The rhythm of typing offers subtle clues about the writer’s state of mind and the urgency of the message. Occasionally, the productive near-silence of the morning is interrupted by the hum of a handheld vacuum cleaner, restoring order where only a trained eye might have perceived any disorder.
The instrument most closely associated with a hotel of Kulm’s calibre is also heard: in the afternoon, soft piano music plays from well-concealed speakers in the lobby. “Moon River”, originally sung by Audrey Hepburn in the 1961 film Breakfast at Tiffany’s, is heard in a smooth, casual instrumental version that enhances the space’s atmosphere. It creates the impression (or hope) that the present moment might stretch into eternity. A real grand piano, composed of wood, felt, cloth, and metal, also stands nearby, quietly announcing its potential.
Later, once the sun has set, it will be played at just the right volume, becoming the soundtrack for the lobby’s many small and large stories. It will accompany children enjoying pizza with noisy delight, the sharing of birthday wishes, and the unfolding of unhurried conversations over the clinking of glasses.
The hotel’s calm atmosphere is sometimes influenced by its surroundings. The next morning, open windows let fresh air into the lobby, next to the hum of rotors, likely from a helicopter working on one of the nearby mountains. Birds cautiously announce the arrival of the gradually strengthening sun. The helicopter rises higher and higher until it is no longer heard.
About the author
Mathis Neuhaus (*1991) moves through the cultural currents. As a curator, he has been responsible for the music program at Schauspielhaus Zurich from 2019 to 2024. As a cultural journalist, he writes for platforms that align with this attitude. As an editor, he publishes zweikommasieben, a magazine dedicated to the documentation of contemporary music and sounds. Guided by this interest, he listened closely during his visit to the Kulm Hotel.