One hour underground

Sound artist Dimitri de Perrot invites invites us in Basel on a sensory journey into the depths of the earth—an experience that makes you feel remarkably small.

Florian Oegerli, bz Basel, 29.3.2025

Creaking, crunching, rumbling, and rushing—the sounds inside the warmly illuminated fabric dome seem to come from all directions at once. Are animals crawling beneath the ground? The wooden platform on which the audience lies vibrates gently, the sensation reaching deep into the body. Many spectators have their eyes closed, as if transported to another world—without the need for any substances.

Even entering the installation, currently exhibited at the Kaserne, marks a transition into another realm. At the entrance, visitors must leave their shoes and belongings behind before making their way individually through a winding passage into the fabric tent—symbolically descending into the depths of the earth. This subterranean world is brought to life in Unter Uns (Beneath Us / Among us), an immersive experience by Dimitri de Perrot. The internationally renowned sound artist has created an acoustic space that should, by all logic, be impossible. After all, the earth is not a good resonator. And yet, as a spectator, you might feel like a cave explorer, a burrowing mole—or simply very, very small.

“The ground carries us, nourishes us, and in the end, we all return to it,” says de Perrot. This sense of connection is what fascinates him, and it is reflected in the ambiguous title of the piece. After the performance, the audience is invited to discuss their experience in the venue’s café.

Meanwhile, inside the dome, the light has dimmed even further. Almost imperceptibly, the ceiling has lowered, creating the illusion that it is within reach. The audience seems to sink into the earth, surrounded by the sounds of falling rocks and slow crystallization. De Perrot says he was inspired by the idea of petrification, where different perceptions of time overlap: what lasts an hour for the audience is just a fleeting moment for nature. After all, in geological terms, the Alps have only just emerged.

Unter Uns does not tell a specific story—because that would be absurd. After all, stones have no stories to tell. “Whenever I felt the composition was becoming too human, too logical, I scrapped it,” says the musician.

Making a Stone Sing

The sounds may seem like they come straight from nature, but every single one was created in the studio. This paradise is entirely artificial. De Perrot's instruments consist of whatever the earth provides: sticks, soil, stones, and leaves—elements that, in his hands, become as expressive as a saxophone or piano in jazz.

One wishes to linger longer in this dome, to leave behind the human world for just a little further. But this strange realm only offers a temporary escape: after an hour, the deep rumbling of the underground gives way to the mundane sounds of elevator music.

Its source becomes clear as visitors stumble out of the tent. A vending machine—though not the usual kind—marks the end of the performance. Instead of snacks, it contains pine cones and stones. But nature remains incorruptible: nothing here can be bought—only admired.

Unter uns, Kaserne Basel,
March 27–29, sold out.