
France · Hospitality
For 369°, it all begins with Inès.
Jeanne soon appears. Behind her, the houses begin to take shape.Since 2020, we have discovered them one by one, through their places, teams and seasons.The music has grown more precise through that relationship, attentive both to what connects them and to what gives each its own voice.
The brand
A meeting at 369°
In 2020, one of our students at Sciences Po, a friend of Inès Pénari, introduces us. She is convinced our worlds should meet. She is right.
In our first conversation, Inès tells us about a château near Chantilly, what it could become and the place music might have within it. Very quickly, the conversation moves beyond the reason we were introduced. We discover a shared way of entering a project: grasp its direction, test its coherence, give it precise form.
Trust grows out of that shared way of seeing. It gives our relationship its freedom, frankness and the quality of exchange that has accompanied every collaboration since.
The sound identity would need to give voice to what the place was about to become.
© 369° Hôtels-Maisons
The project
Giving Jeanne a voice
Our first collaboration begins at Château de Montvillargenne, near Chantilly. The place is changing face and, with it, a personality is taking shape: Jeanne.
Soon, the château will take her name: Jeanne & The Forest.
Jeanne moves easily across eras. Free-spirited, curious and cultivated, she builds her world through affinities — encounters, objects, voices and discoveries. Her taste takes shape like a conversation that is always left open.
We come and go at Montvillargenne. Days with Inès and the 369° teams readily stretch into breakfast, lunch, dinner, sometimes a night on site. Conversations change pace with the hours; we talk about the place, music, what is happening there, what might still find a place within it.
As the house becomes familiar to us, one question keeps returning: what would someone like Jeanne genuinely want people to hear in her home?
We begin listening with Jeanne, for Jeanne.
© 369° Hôtels-Maisons
Sound identity
Shift the centre to listen
The first move is to shift the centre. To listen from the other person’s point of view, deeply enough for their affinities, curiosities and impulses to become the true starting point for every choice.
From there, the unexpected can feel right: a new work, an unlikely pairing, a horizon opening up. Nothing is imposed: the proposal stops at the other person’s threshold, leaving them free to let it in or let it pass.
The houses designed by Chantal Peyrat open another path into listening.
In the interiors she creates for 369°, materials, colours and unexpected combinations form a visual grammar that feeds our musical reading. A texture calls for a grain; a certain light asks for more space; a visual contrast suggests a sharper meeting between two works. As those correspondences become clearer, Jeanne appears differently: through the affinities that run through her, the cultures she brings together, the horizons she leaves open.
Jeanne takes shape in this in-between: a French imagination looking towards an English musical sensibility.
Part of that landscape lies in the meeting between a taste for the French language and melodies, arrangements and orchestrations from across the Channel. Serge Gainsbourg was a founding figure; Étienne Daho extended that melodic tension and elegance into a more pop-driven form.
Time changes the forms but keeps the impulse alive: French-language songwriting willing to be drawn elsewhere. Adrien Gallo, Barbagallo, Mattyeux, Julien Baer, Berry and Constance Amiot each extend that outward-looking impulse in their own way.
From one house to the next, the way we listen has to move.
© 369° Hôtels-Maisons
Programming
In a different light
Erik Satie imagined musique d’ameublement, almost a kind of sonic wallpaper: music present enough to transform a space, discreet enough to let life continue. At 369°, that presence retains something of the idea, while still inviting attention.
It can remain at the edge of attention for a long time, then suddenly come into focus through a voice, a timbre, a transition. That shift interests us as much as the music itself: the moment when what was simply accompanying a place begins to change how it is perceived.
That presence adjusts to what actually changes. Altitude, light, season and the memory of a place all shift the way we listen. Megève and Courchevel belong to the same mountain without telling the same winter. Saint-Tropez and Saint-Barth share the sun without sharing the same horizon.
The 369° thread lies in recognising those differences without losing what underpins it: curiosity, elegance in the way things are brought together, attention to place. The grammar remains. Each house shifts the accent.
The mountains
The mountains set the frame; each house offers its own reading.
In Megève, Mamie Megève brings a shared memory into the present: a familiar refrain can sit beside newer songwriting and keep all its emotional charge.
L’Arboisie takes another route, drawn more towards independent artists, less obvious choices and discoveries.
Alpen Valley and Écrin Blanc share the mountains, but not quite the same way of listening. The horizon remains; each house redraws the line.
The sea
Sunlight brings Saint-Tropez and Saint-Barth close on a map. Music makes the distance between them audible.
At La Tartane, the Riviera looks towards Italy; French and Italian repertoires answer one another, even in parts of contemporary electro-pop.
At Le Tropical, the French thread opens towards the Caribbean and South America; the grain changes, rhythms shift, new affinities become possible.
Place reshapes affinities and pairings, the way one work finds its place beside another. At this level of precision, a sense of place becomes musical.
As the houses multiply, listening becomes a culture.
© 369° Hôtels-Maisons
Governance
Owning your voice
One morning at Le Tropical in Saint-Barth, just a few bars are enough to recognise a track almost everyone knows. Chosen spontaneously by the team, it is not part of the house programme.
The question then shifts from taste to whether it belongs. At eight in the morning, in a place that feels almost like the Garden of Eden, does this music really express what the house wants people to feel, here, at this precise moment?
Governance takes shape in that shift. Across houses, seasons and conversations, the same attention circulates. It connects perspectives, sharpens choices and leaves each place its own accent.
Since 2020, we have built this way of listening together, through conversations and hours spent on site. The music moves with the houses as they evolve.
Years pass; houses open and reopen. Each keeps its own accent; all share the same sense of what feels right.
An invisible Ariadne’s thread connects one address to the next.
“Every hotel tells its own unique story.”
369° Hôtels-Maisons




