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The Tale of the « Tale »

Return to the French original text: Le Conte du « Conte »

 


 

The Tale of the « Tale »

Louis Clément, Delphine Descombin, Yovan Girard, Maxime Hurdequint

Edition and page lay-out: Jean-Charles François

March 2024

 

The four protagonists have collaborated to a spectacle entitled “Le Conte d’un future commun” [The Tale of a Common Future] with:

Louis Clément, project instigator, public participation and drawing animation.
Delphine Descombin, storyteller.
Maxime Hurdequint, drawings.
Yovan Girard, music.

The texts are the result of four separate interviews with each artist during 2023, by Nicolas Sidoroff and Jean-Charles François.

Summary :

1. Delphine’s story
2. Architecture’s studies, Louis and Maxime
3. Delphine’s journey to Africa
4. Yovan Girard, the musician.
5. Delphine’s return to France
6. Maxime’s hesitations between architecture and drawing.
7. Yovan ‘s Story (continued)
8. Delphine’s story (continued). Trapeze and storytelling.
9. Louis and Maxime’s stories (continued)
10. Yovan’s Story (continued), the project « A Violin for my School ».
11. Delphine, the Tale of the Skull and the Fisherman.
12. The little notebook with trees. Maxime Hurdequint, Maxime Touroute and Louis Clément.
13. Delphine’s story (continued). The Tale of Tom Thumb.
14. Delphine and storytelling. Maxime and architecture and drawings. Yovan and composition.
15. The Live Drawing Project
16. Delphine : Two tales.
17. Origin of the “Tale of a Common Future”.
18. The AADN immersive project.
19. The “Tale of a Common Future”.
20. Louis, One Year to Reflect.
21. The writing of the Tale. Louis and Delphine..
22. The drawings and their animation, Louis and Maxime..
23. A traditional music of the future?
24. Music elaboration: pre-recorded or live music. Louis and Yovan.
25. Music and storytelling, Delphine et Yovan.
26. Music and storytelling. Louis et Yovan
27. Yovan’s ideas on music and Maxime’s ideas on drawings.
28. The Tale and drawings. Delphine, Maxime et Louis.
29. Sonorization
30. Communication with Notion.
31. Residencies: LabLab, Chevagny, Vaulx-en-Velin, Enghien-les-Bains.
32. Public participation.
33. The artistic and cultural education residency at Hennebont. Louis, Delphine and Yovan.
34. The residencies (continued): Paris, Nantes.
35. Ecology. Delphine.
36. Conclusion


 

1. Delphine’s Story

Delphine:
Where does the Tale come from? It’s by telling the Tale that we’ll arrive at the Tale… The Tale comes from when I was in high school and I met Marie Jourdain, the daughter of Marie-France Marbach.[1]
 
During high school, I was at boarding school, she was telling me stories all the time. I met her mother and Geo Jourdain. And I loved these people who were completely different from what I had as reference in my family. They woulod take me to school, to the boarding school on Sunday evenings and would bring me back on Friday evenings. I spent a lot of time with Marie, who talked to me about Africa, who told me a lot of stories. After that, I left high school and went to Africa. There, I heard lots of stories, lots of tales. And then, when I came back from Africa, Marie-France absolutely wanted me to tell the story of my trip. And I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to talk, I wasn’t at all ready to talk in front of people. She took me by surprise, and I often attended her performances. She gave me the opportunity to go to workshops, she really believed in me, when I really didn’t. So, I stayed in close contact with Marie-France.

The boarding school was in Louhans, it was a visual arts school. It was the only high school that accepted me because I had very bad marks, and I wasn’t following school at all. It was my aunt who found this high school that was willing to accept me. I stayed outside. I didn’t go to classes. I was under the trees listening to the birds, I wasn’t in the mood to be locked in a class. Often, the director summoned me, and we had some very interesting philosophical discussions. So, it was as if he had me join the 12th grade philosophy course. Then, he’d ask me what I wanted to do later in life, and I’d say: “I don’t know, maybe take care of goats, perhaps…” I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but it’s true, these were important questions that nobody had ever asked me before. It’s true that I had the chance to meet some special people. And I really liked the visual arts courses. There were two visual arts teachers who were amazing, they took us to Lyon to see exhibitions, we even went to Strasbourg to see museums, it was great, so these were the courses I attended, I was allowed to create things. As for the rest of the courses, I really rejected them, yeah, they bored me a lot. That’s why afterward I took my backpack and I got the desire to go to Africa. The journey lasted quite a long time because I stopped along the way, I didn’t have any money. I worked as a seasonal worker, in hotels-restaurants, I was doing services and they provided lodging at the same time. I sold croissants, I worked in bakeries, I did all sorts of jobs. And then, I met someone in the street who was spitting fire, who taught me how to do it. This was my first real job: we’d spit fire, I’d spit fire and then I’d beg. In fact, I’d blow bubbles in front of a bakery, telling poetry. I hated all this, I found it unbearable, but I always managed to do something.

 

2. Architecture Studies, Louis and Maxime

Louis:
My background story starts on December 23, 1986. I don’t know how far back I can go, but I think my parents are no strangers to what shaped me. So, I think that if we go back very far, one could say that what shaped me was the discovery of reading, and then above all the reading of what we call imaginary fiction, anything related to science fiction, fantasy, etc. And then, from a more professional point of view, or in any case in terms of my studies, I passed a scientific baccalaureate, then I studied architecture at the Paris-Val de Seine architectural school and graduated from it. At the end of my Licence, I started to realize that architecture wasn’t really for me. In fact, I already had the somewhat utopian idea that becoming an architect would enable me to conceive of spaces in which people would feel good and above all that it would help them to think, to change the world.

Maxime:
My cousin Louis Clément also studied architecture. We’re a year apart, and we didn’t do that in concert, we went our separate ways. I was at the INSA in Strasbourg and he was at the Val de Seine in Paris, we followed our own path. This was a period in our lives when we saw each other less often, but we talked a little about architecture.

Louis:
And then I was confronted with the Master and with the realities of construction, the fact that, if you become an architect, you become a builder. You work in more or less big firms, and ultimately your work is extremely determined by budgetary considerations. And so, I thought that it would not interest so much. Even so, I did my Master’s first year in Antwerp (Belgium), it went fairly well, and I was already starting to think a little that I was going towards performing arts, scenography, etc. And then, in my Master’s second year I sort of eeked by, but I got the diploma all the same. Then I had the chance to work for an architect, I did my Master’s internship at “Scène scénographie”, which is a very good enterprise. We worked on the scenography of the “Musée d’Alésia”, the “Grotte Chauvet II”, so I had the chance to count the stalactites for many hours, this was enormously interesting! Interesting but… It was fun in any case, to work on beautiful projects.

Maxime:
During the last year of high school, I applied to an architecture school, it might have been in Lyon or Grenoble, I went there with my hands in my pockets, thinking: “To be an architect is a trade that you learn, so I’m not going to learn it beforehand!” I crashed, and my only solution was to go to a preparatory school. So then I was in the first year of a preparatory school.

Louis:
And then, when I started to work as an architect, I got a job with François Pin who is an architect who also run a music festival in quarries, in the “Carrières de Normandoux[2], and he created the Marbrerie in Montreuil (a suburb of Paris). I worked on the Marbrerie project, which was one of the biggest projects, the most interesting that I could do as an architect: it was a multi-programmatic project, with an artist’s residency, a swimming pool, a restaurant, an architecture agency, a performance hall, and furthermore I was in charge of sketching it. So, I could have really been very happy, and I stayed almost six months. In fact, it didn’t make me happy at all, so I thought that, if I was not happy there, then I didn’t see what I was still doing in architecture, because, I thought I wasn’t going to find a more interesting job.

Maxime:
With Louis, my cousin, we influence each other, maybe because we know each other very well. That is to say that when we grew up, we saw each other on a regular basis, we never really lost touch. So, this is the reason that it’s always a fluid relationship between us, we never yell at each other, in fact we don’t really need to. I think we adjust one another perfectly, that’s how we influence each other. I imagine that, as we both studied architecture, we speak the same language, it helps us to communicate of certain concepts, I don’t need to explain to him such and such architectural project.

 

3. Delphine’s journey to Africa

Delphine:
It took me a year, from the age of 17 to 18, to collect enough money for my trip to Africa. I worked during the summer and winter seasons. In any case my mother wouldn’t allow me to cross the border. So, when I turned 18, I immediately crossed the Spanish border. At 18 I no longer feared being prevented from doing so by send police. In fact, I’d already been arrested at police stations, and they were tracking me, they track street people, they have their photos, and they know where they are. They knew I lived on the street, that’s funny, because they didn’t know this until they arrested me.

I went all the way down to Spain. I took the boat in Gibraltar, I arrived in Morocco, and then I went down to Mauritania, and on to Dakar in Senegal. After that, I really wanted to go to Burkina Faso, because I’d met some Burkinabe in France and I wanted to go and visit them, they were dancers and percussionists. So, I took the train to Bamako, Mali, where I took another train to go to Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso, it took 48 hours by train to get there, it’s very long. Then I went to Koudougou, they lived there. I stayed there for a while, I was there for a year and a half.

At one point in Africa, I asked myself what exactly I was doing there? What’s the purpose for me to be there? I was white, so, in a subtle way, I didn’t seem to be living there, – look, I wasn’t a tourist! – but I was there, and I didn’t have much to do there, I could simply let myself live, live with the people, but I had the impression of having a real dilemma in my head. We had great discussions, it was super cool what I went through intellectually. For example, in Burkina Faso, we were there drinking tea and talking. They’re really very interesting intellectuals, but it’s not the same kind of intellectuals as in France, we don’t come from the same thing. And in fact, I really missed Western intellectual thinking. It was also lack of books too, of this kind of nourishment, I missed that a lot. And what’s more, it also didn’t make sense for me: there were a lot of problems over there, they couldn’t sell their wheat because there was so much competition, there were societal problems.

I remember once, I was in the desert, and I heard a guy with his tiny radio, and he said to me: “Yes, I think that in your country, things aren’t going very well, there’s a man who might be elected.” In fact, it was Le Pen, against Chirac at the time. And I remember that I said to myself: “What am I doing here, when it’s over there perhaps, that the root of the problem lies?” Everything was beautiful, the landscapes were magnificent, the weather was fine, there was a very cool way of life compared to here. And at the same time, I thought: “I don’t belong here, what am I doing here?” It was a bit of a dilemma. That’s why I came back, it no longer made sense for me to be there.

Going over there saved my life, it saved my ass. When I was in France, people said that I was crazy, my family said that I was crazy, well, I was a bit lost. And when I arrived in Africa, there was that family spirit, something completely natural, I found it super sane, hyper normal. I had lots of difficulties in France, and it was not the case in Africa. When I came back to France, I was part of a bunch of friends, we were a real gang, it was a family for me, something I didn’t have before. All this bunch, they are still my friends.

 

4. Yovan Girard, the Musician

Yovan:
I’ve been a musician for a long time. I’m basically a violinist, so, I studied classical music and jazz. I am issued from a family of musicians, my father, Jean-Luc Girard, is a composer, he wrote a fair number of pieces, that are, let’s say, classical, but always a bit hybrid. I have the impression I am also following this pathway, in the sense that he also listened to a lot of rock, and he listened to what we played. He liked composers who were a little extraterrestrial, like Frank Zappa (I don’t particularly like Zappa), he always made us listen to plenty of different kinds of music, he wasn’t an ayatollah of jazz or rock, he was quite open-minded. My brother, Simon Girard, is a trombonist, and we’ve always played together. Simon and I had a band, and we played together in a fair number of groups. Simon’s very much into jazz, even if he’s played in popular music groups. At the beginning the connection between us was jazz. I’ve known Louis Clément since early childhood. Louis’ parents, Sylvie Drouin and Dominique Clément, and my parents knew each other very well for a long time.

 

5. Delphine’s return to France

Delphine:
I went back to France, and I landed in Montceau-les-Mines and there I stayed for a long while. Well, already I’d fallen in love with a boy who was a stone carver and a painter, and I lived there with a bunch of friends in a house with mattresses on the floor. The problem is, when you’re settling down and become sedentary, that’s when you really become poor, because you have to pay the rent, the electricity, the water. Before that I never felt that I was poor. But there, it was really the case, I had no dough and I had to live.

 

Scene 1: Delphine with the woman social worker

A social worker: I suggest you attend a training program called IRFA-Bourgogne.[3]

Delphine: What’s it all about?

Social worker: It’s a training organization that helps you to try several jobs, several trades of your choice, you approach companies, and then you go. There are about twenty people in this training program, some working in funeral parlors, others in shelving, in a telephone call center, some doing housework, laundry…

Delphine: … all sorts of things that didn’t suit me, I couldn’t see myself doing that.

Social worker: You know, there might be other things outside that, you could go and see, I don’t know if they’ll hire you, but you can go and see…

Delphine: I will try the Atelier du Coin [4] in Montceau and the Gus Circus in Saint-Vallier [5].

 

Scene 2: At the Gus Circus.

A guy from the Gus Circus: Hello Delphine.

Delphine: Would you like to be my friend?

A guy from the Gus Circus: Yes. Come, you do tight rope, you do juggling, you can come here every day, whenever you want, the door is always open.

Delphine: I like it, I’ll be able to train like that.

A guy from the Gus Circus: You know, the Gus Circus basically doesn’t want to hire anyone.

Delphine: It doesn’t matter, I am going to stay there, it’ll work, it suits me. I have already the fiber to do that, because when I was on the street, I’ve already spat fire and juggled with balls.

 

Delphine:
So, they offered me a job on a subsidized contract, it was my first job, my first long term contract, for six months. Then I stayed to teach children for maybe three years, I don’t remember exactly. I think they renewed the contract once, these were subsidized contracts for non-profit organizations (associations), something not very expensive that was 80% reimbursed by the State, so they were able to do it. An after that, they actually hired me, they figured out that having one more person brought them more children to teach, so it worked for them. So, I worked for the Gus Circus of Saint-Vallier for a certain time, I don’t even know how long…

I worked in all the disciplines: clown, tightrope, trapeze, juggling. I got the BIAC diploma [6] [Brevet d’initiation aux arts du cirqueto teach circus arts. And then, the association imploded from the inside. In fact, it was the students’ parents who were the bosses, and it went very badly, there were conflicts of interest, conflicts of power. As we were just employees, we couldn’t have a say in the matter, it was their decision, and as a result, things exploded, so my friend and me both left. And I went on a professional trapeze training with a trapezist in Moux-en-Morvan, a completely crazy trapezist, Nicole Durot [7], who did performances under a helicopter, under a Montgolfier, in a word, trapeze without security. She’s 60 years old! When she took me on in training, she was still doing that kind of things, she was a warrior. I stayed for six months with her in intensive training.

 

6. Maxime’s Hesitations between Architecture and Drawing

Scene: Maxime’s meeting with the Venerable Member of the Grand Council.

The Venerable Member of the Grand Council: Maxime, after this year in a preparatory program, how do you see your future?

Maxime: I followed the program very seriously, and I came out of it honorably, but now I’m beginning to wonder.

The Venerable: What interests you? Becoming an engineer?

Maxime: No, I don’t want to be an engineer, that doesn’t really interest me, in fact I think that I want really to be an architect.

The Venerable: Did you do any drawing?

Maxime: Like all children, I used to draw, and I think I was encouraged a little.

The Venerable: Can you show me your drawings?

Maxime: Yes, here they are.

The Venerable: Your drawings are good.

Maxime: Drawing motivated me to continue. I know that my brothers were very good at drawing, but I don’t know why, it encouraged me to persist. And it’s true that as a child, my parents sent me to an art school, and I think that it does in fact eventually opens doors. I would go to that school every Wednesday for one hour, and the teacher would provide ideas for drawing, what I liked, it’s that he said:

The ghost of the drawing teacher: Here we are, I don’t know, you are going to draw figures, and you are going to do it in such a way so that the feet touch the bottom of the sheet, the head the top of the sheet.

Maxime: In fact, it reminded me of the Greek or Egyptian friezes, and so, I liked this idea of setting the rules of a fairly simple game, and then we would do it, and we could see that the results were all different. That’s pretty much what I retained, you fix a totally arbitrary rule for yourself, and it brings about all kinds of possible results. I would have liked to go to an art design school, there were illustration programs.

The Venerable: It’s a possible alternative. Yes, it would be good for you to go into architecture.

Someone passing by: Yes, it would be good for you to go into architecture..

A lady: Yes, it would be good for you to go into architecture.

Maxime: Effectively I could go this way.

The Venerable: It would be good for you. You can continue to draw during your architecture studies.

Maxime: I’ll never give up drawing, but I don’t take it too seriously, I never thought that I would make a career of it. It’s a thing that I liked doing, and I liked seeing myself progressing, I liked looking at it, I liked sharing it. I think I was not serious about it, so that’s why I didn’t choose to study it, even though architecture is indeed quite close to it.

The Venerable: In fact, you can be an excellent architect without knowing how to draw. Then, it’s interesting to know how to draw to communicate your ideas. You can end up drawing badly, but be good at drawing your ideas. Then, to be good at drawing can be useful in architecture.

Maxime: Yes, I think this is going to help me, I might not be the best, but it’s a good thing that I know drawing, it will be a plus for architecture.

The Venerable: Don’t be under any illusions: in the end, it won’t be long before you’re on the computer. and it’s no longer necessary to know how to draw.

Maxime: Ah?

The Venerable: Well, there’s a way around it: At the Strasbourg INSA you can be recruited as a student after only one year in preparatory school and they have a program of studies in architecture. I have a colleague whose son is in that school, call him!

Maxime: Bingo! I’m going to do it, if I’m accepted in that school, then I won’t have lost a year and I might be with people like me who have chosen this path.

The Venerable: The INSA in Strasbourg was founded during the German period (1870-1918), and at that time, the Germans didn’t distinguish between engineers and architects. So, this school has a tradition of being an engineering school, but it also trains architects, and this is something that has been kept. About 50 architects graduate every year, I think there are a little less nowadays. During the first years the courses are focused on engineering, civil engineering, and then thermic engineering.

Maxime: I have no particular desire to move in this direction.

The Venerable: It’s an opportunity to be seized.

Maxime: It’ll enable me to be outside the classical schools.

Maxime:
After my architecture studies at INSA, I worked in Strasbourg, I moved then to Paris where I worked for eight years. In the meantime, I had several experiences in foreign countries, I had an internship in Denmark, and one in Mexico. Then I worked for two months in Tokyo, because it was a culture I really wanted to discover, I dared to send my CV, and they told me: “Let’s do it, come if you like.” I already had maybe two or three years’ experience, so, they took me on for a two-month trial, and then there was no job available to stay. So, I came back, but it was a beautiful experience.

 

7. Yovan ‘s Story (continued)

Yovan:
At the beginning the connection between my brother and me was jazz. After jazz, I went a lot towards popular music, because I really enjoy composing. I’m in a rap group called Kunta, rap and Ethiopian music, with several instrumentalists. In Kunta, I play keyboard and I rap in English. In fact, I’d been doing a bit of rap on my own for a long time, and it was hard for me to imagine that you could do both playing keyboard and rap. Now I do it from time to time in certain projects, but at first, I didn’t want to mix the two, because it was a bit like two different personalities. So, I played keyboard because it was needed in the group. I simply got into playing Ethiopian scales, what you played on the piano wasn’t too complicated. Now I do both equally, keyboard and voice.

I like making different types of music, in fact I’m not locked in. I’ve already done quite a bit of music with images, notably I did music for a short film by a friend, Pierre Raphaël, and so that’s how I started. Then, I composed music for a theatre play, a modernized version of Cartouche. I’ve always been composing for a long time, doing what you might call “prod” at home on my sequencer with keyboard, plugins, it’s what my “generation” in quote does in the home studio, making the instrumentals to rap on top, but also some couplets, sometimes singing more, trying things out, in short, making music at home. That’s what we call bedroom music. I’ve always done a little of that, whether it’s rap or pop, I enjoyed experimenting because I listen to a fairly big number of different things.

 

Yovan Girard, workstation 1/2 (Conte d'un futur commun)

Yovan’s workstation,
(photos Nicolas Sidoroff).

 
 
Yovan Girard, workstation 2/2 (Conte d'un futur commun)

 

Scene 1, Yovan with a stage director [8]

Stage director: I propose you make the music for a collection of poems by Arthur Rimbaud. You could play violin.

Yovan: I propose that it be a solo violin without effects, because I liked the idea that it be as simple as possible.

Stage director: I insist that there be perhaps effects on certain passages where I hear different colors.

Yovan: I’ll do what you ask me to do. I like to start with a simple idea, for example just to compose for a project, but without worrying about the live music, because if you have to do live what you composed at home, it’s always complicated, unless you compose for a group.

Stage director: Even so, I would like you to do straight away the multi-instrument (violin and electronic effects) live on stage.

Yovan: It stresses me a bit. No, I’d rather just play the violin. I’m going to write a piece for solo violin, without anything else, rather than to have to engage myself straight away with the Swiss knife.

Stage director: I nevertheless need these changes of color at certain moments.

Yovan: OK, I accept, but I’ll just take a delay and a distort, because these I know them well, they do different things and can be useful.

Yovan:
I also composed music for digital arts, for example for an artist called Minuit, Dorian Rigal [9], he makes wall projections and quite a lot of immersive things, he is invited everywhere now, in particular at the “Fêtes des Lumières” in Lyon. I’d already done illustrative music for his scenography. So, the project with the “Tale of the Common Future” is like continuing all this, to compose music with images, for a spectacle, or a show.

Scene 2, at the start of the project of the “Tale for a Common Future”. Louis and Yovan.

Louis: Hello. Today, we start a first two-day residency to work on the music of the “Tale for a Common Future”.

Yovan: It’s not what I’d understood since the text od the tale isn’t written down yet. I prefer to compose at home beforehand.

Louis: No, but anyway bring something to play with.

Yovan: Listen, if you like, but it’s not exactly what’s going to happen. I have my analogue keyboard with me. I can start to play textures. Hey, here I’ve chosen one of them, this could be a starting point for the intro.

Louis: We’ll talk together a lot on how we’ll proceed from there.

 

8. Delphine’s Story (continued). Trapeze and Storytelling.

Delphine:
To make a living as a trapeze artist, the problem is hanging up a trapeze. I wanted to be autonomous, so I built a yurt (I have still it in my garden), in which I hang a trapeze. Then inside, I could give performances and lead workshops, it allowed me to have an autonomous job. I did this in the Morvan (because I was living in Morvan quite a lot), at La Tagnière in Saint-Eugène. The yurt, it’s something that can be dismantled and reassembled, I’ve never stopped dismantling and reassembling it for 4 or 5 years. I didn’t do performances with words, just with trapeze, impromptu performances with musicians I’d meet.

Scene between the Venerable Storyteller and Delphine.

The Venerable: You hang out a lot with punks. I don’t like it.

Delphine: I came to see your performance with them. They like it.

The Venerable: You are in a bad way!

Delphine: I know it’s not the kind of crowd you would approve, but I love punks, they’re my family.

The Venerable: You hang out in bars.

Delphine: For me there is a very strong bond there.

The Venerable: I will never abandon you.

Delphine: Thank you.

The Venerable: You should become a storyteller and tell the stories related to your African trip.

Delphine: I am incapable of telling what I lived through.

The Venerable: I propose to you to take part to the Contes Givrés Festival [10] under the yurt.

Delphine: I am not at all ready to talk in front of people. I could maybe do a performance without words.

Delphine:
It was my first performance for the Contes Givrés, it was called “Liberté”. It was a 20-minute performance on a trapeze with a guitar, under the yurt. For the first time it was really a spectacle that we’d designed, sold and performed. And that’s something that has been touring quite a lot at festivals. This brought me closer to Marie-France Marbach, so, I came back around here, I put up the yurt at la Fabrique, a place of residencies for creation in Savigny-sur-Grosne, in Messeugne. I found Marie-France there, and I lived at Pauline’s, who works with Contes Givrés. As she was going on a world tour, to spend a year in Asia, and she left me her flat, because I had nothing, I settled in there.

 

9. Louis and Maxime’s Stories (continued)

Scene between Maxime and Louis. Architecture and scenography, architecture and drawing.

Maxime: I never gave up drawing because as I progressed, even when I was working as an employee in an architecture firm, I found that projects took a long time, so you do some drawing, at the beginning you present sketches, 3D images, drawings, lots of elements like that, very beautiful that make you want to get at a result. So, this part is super, but then, for myself, I want to arrive more quickly at a result, I don’t want to make only beautiful images. And to get to a result, it takes a long time, and there are really too many obstacles that can make you fall into something different from what you want to do.

Louis: For me, it was important to be my own boss, so, I said to myself that scenography for events was more indicated than working for an architect’s office, because to be one’s own boss as an architect implies lots of problems, the décennale [11], and above all I was facing the temporal unfolding of a single project which in architecture can easily take ten years. This was more what I had in mind in terms of temporality, even though now it’s really a little more than that.

Maxime: I still like architecture, so I continue practicing this way, because it takes two years to realize a project, and then it’s very gratifying to go there, to make it alive and all that, but I needed to create things over a much shorter period of time.

Louis: With scenography for events, I was a self-employed entrepreneur, small task person in event organizing firms. Two years later, I started to be stage manager for the Ensemble Aleph [12] and other organizations. I also discovered video projection and mapping. It appealed to me a lot and I started to do that. Then, the fact of meeting people involved in video-projection led me towards digital arts and led me specifically to the tours guided by smartphones. You have in your pocket a fairly powerful tool, which people use to do very little. I thought that it could be interesting to see what could be done with this.

Maxime: I remember that during the evenings at home, on weekends, I was spending two hours to make at least one drawing that would make me happy. And my little ritual was: I would do it in the evening, and in the next morning I would put it on the floor near the window, and it was then that I had the validation, it was then that I would know if it was successful or not. So, I would get up the next morning and say to myself: “Ah! frankly not bad.” Or “No, no, I didn’t go through with it.” Or else “OK, it’s not as it should be, but on the other hand, the next time I’ll change the color, I’ll do it again differently.” And this was the big difference with architecture where in the end, if you do many tests, you never consider the final result. You work by approximation of the result and once it’s there, frankly, it’s too late. You can no longer break the walls, you can repaint things very little, so it’s pretty frustrating because you say to yourself that you were close, but that you could have changed this or that if you would have been aware of it beforehand. However, there, with drawing at home, what I like is that you are like the chefs: they have a dish, and if they want to change a flavor, an ingredient, they start the dish again and they come up with a result again. I like the fact that in my everyday life I can do the two activities, the very long work in architecture to achieve a result, and the fairly short work time an artist needs to achieve a result that itself leads to the following search.

Louis: The first encounter with mapping [13], came through YouTube, with a collective called 1024 Architecture. They are behind one of the software programs called MadMapper. I discovered mapping at a Christmas tree gathering, they had basically stretched some tulle fabric on tour Layher, some construction site scaffolding. It’s amazing what you can do with just tulle fabric and video projection. In fact, what really appealed to me about mapping in the first place, it was its holograph, hologram, holographic aspect. It would take form somehow, and as such it spoke to me well with my architecture background, and the fact that it was contextual.

 

Yovan’s Story (continued), the Project « A Violin for my School »

Yovan :
I’m currently teaching two days a week for a project called “A violin for my school”. Basically, it’s a social project that aims at reducing school failure through music learning, they called in neurosciences researchers to conduct a 10-year study to see how students behave. It’s an interesting project that concerns students up to age 16 taking violin lessons, sponsored by a Swiss foundation, the Fondation Vareille. In this program, there are a lot of teachers, but certainly not enough, otherwise it’s very good, the students like making music, the violin, they only play violin. The foundation bought a lot of violins for all the students. It’s good for the students do this, they are all in ZEP+ [Priority Education Zone+], which means that certain of them have complicated profiles.

 

11. Delphine, the Tale of the Skull and the Fisherman

Delphine:
The first story I told was one I heard from Marie-France and loved. It’s the story of the skull and the fisherman:

 

The Tale of the Skull and the Fisherman

A fisherman finds a skull there.

Fisherman: Skull, what are you doing here? What brought you here?

Skull: The word.

The fisherman is very astonished that the skull speaks.

Fisherman: Skull, you have spoken, what brought you here?

The skull unlocks his big jaw:

Skull: The word.

The fisherman runs to the king.

Fisherman: Wow! there is a skull speaking over there.

The King: Wait a minute, you’re bothering me with your stories of a skull speaking there, do you think I‘ll believe you? It’s not possible. Anyway, I’ll come, but if it’s not true, I’ll chop your head off.

The fisherman, he is sure of himself, he takes the king, the ministers, everyone.

Fisherman: Skull, skull! Tell the king what brought you here?

Skull: …

Fisherman: Come on skull, please speak, what brought you here?

Skull: …

So, the king chops the fisherman’s head off, the head falls on the floor, it rolls and rolls, and rolls, it comes right next to the skull.

Skull: Head, hey, head! what brought you here?

Head: The word.

 

Delphine:
And I liked this story because precisely of this fear of speaking: what is speaking? What should be said? What shouldn’t be said? Do you have the right to say anything? Are you going to have your head chopped off if you say something that you shouldn’t? Perhaps it was my fear of speaking that made me to tell that story, it was one of the first ones I used. And then, after that, what tales did I tell? I found stories, I looked for them in books, my bookshelves are full of books, I read, read, read, a lot of stories. And then, I chose the ones that touched me.

 

12. The little notebook with trees. Maxime Hurdequint, Maxime Touroute [14] and Louis Clément.

Scene 1: All three of them drink coffee at Louis’ home.

Maxime T. : I am a computer expert and I do also artistic photography projects. Here are several ones of them. And some software I have encoded.

Maxime H. : Ah!

Louis : Ah!… I am interested in mapping. I do it on masks. I build African mask out of papers, fairly simple things, which I then map with a video projector, adding colors.

Maxime T. : Ah!

Maxime H. : Ah!… Here are my drawings.

Louis : Ah!

Maxime T. : Ah! OK, super, but we don’t know what we could do with them.

Louis : Why not tell a story?

Maxime T. : Yeah…

Maxime H. : Yeah…

Louis : No, it won’t do.

Maxime H. : I’ve also this, that’s cool and funny..
(He takes out a small notebook measuring 10 cm by 10 cm)
In this little notebook, I asked people to draw a tree.

 
 

Maxime Hurdequint, trees' notebook 1/5 (Conte d'un futur commun) Maxime Hurdequint, trees' notebook 2/5 (Conte d'un futur commun) Maxime Hurdequint, trees' notebook 3/5 (Conte d'un futur commun) Maxime Hurdequint, trees' notebook 4/5 (Conte d'un futur commun) Maxime Hurdequint, trees' notebook 5/5 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Maxime’s little notebook with trees (photos Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

Scene 2, sometimes before, Maxime H. and another person.

Maxime H.: Draw me a tree on this notebook.

The other person: Hell no, I don’t know how to draw and all that, and then, frankly, a tree, no, that’s not possible.

Maxime H.: Surely you can do it, and then, if it’s ugly, in any case it will remain anonymous. As soon as you’ve finished your tree, you can look at all the other trees that have been drawn before, frankly, there are some cool ones.

The other person: OK, I’ll draw a tree.

Maxime H.: I find it funny to see the richness of the different trees.

Scene 3: During Maxime’s architectural studies.

Maxime H.: Here we are, guys, I’ll ask you to draw a tree, and then we will hang all your drawings on the class wall with a little text I’ve written on the meaning of drawing trees.

Each student draws his/her tree.

Maxime H.:
Now look at them and you can find out what you’re like, knowing that it’s not serious.

A student: What should we look for?

Maxime H.: If there are roots going into the ground, if there are leaves or not (because many people draw trees without leaves), if the branches are going down, if the trunk is thin, if there is a hole in the trunk – it’s a great classic – and finally, there are absurd things : if there is a bird on the left branch, but looks to the right, that means something. But it’s impossible, it would never happen,

A student: But it’s exactly what I’ve drawn, this thing! [General laughter]

 

Scene 4: in 2015

A Japanese friend: Here is a present for you: a little notebook.

Maxime H.: Thank you. I don’t ‘know what I am going to do with this notebook. The notebook I had before was nearly full when I lost it in the Paris metro. I’m going to do it again with this new notebook. I tried to do it with other things, like doing it with fishes, anyone can draw a fish, but the results were not very interesting. Someone suggested to draw a teapot, or a window, I tried but frankly, I never came up with anything other than a tree. Yes, it’s true, the fishes are less interesting!

 

Scene 5: return to the first scene with Louis Clément, Maxime H. et Maxime T.

Maxime H.: It clicks!

Louis: It’s great, we could do that, but we could get people to draw the tree on their smartphone with their fingers, and then we’d send it, and you could do an arboretum, where everybody can see everyone else’s trees.

Maxime T.: We will call it the Live Drawing Project.

 

13. Delphine’s story (continued). The Tale of Tom Thumb.

Delphine:
A friend of mine, Florent Fichot, who is an actor, suggested to me that I do something where I would tell things on the trapeze, and so, I was reciting some passages, from Peter Pan for example; it was called “Souffle court” (short breath). We played it at the Théâtre du C2 [15] (in Torcy, in Saône-et-Loire).
 
Then, there was the story of Tom Thumb on the trapeze. Not the story of the real Tom Thumb, right? But Jacques Prévert’s “Petit Poucet” (“The Ostrich”) [16].
 

The Tale of Tom Thumb

When Tom Thumb, abandoned in the forest, sowed pebbles behind him to find his way home, he had no idea that an ostrich was following him to eat all the pebbles one by one, “ram, ram, ram”. Tom Thumb looks back, no more pebbles! It’s a sorry state, no pebbles no house; no house no returning home; no home no daddy-mummy. Then he hears a noise, he hears music, a racket. He pokes his head through the leaves, and he sees the ostrich dancing and singing, and she looks at him.

Ostrich: It’s me who make all this noise, I’m happy, I’ve eaten…

Tom Thumb: You have a magnificent stomach.

Ostrich: Yes, I ate lots of stuff. Come on! Get on my back, I go very fast, I’m going to take you far away.

Tom Thumb: But my mother and my father, won’t I ever see them again?

Ostrich: Did your mother beat you sometimes?

Tom Thumb: My father used to beat me too.

Ostrich: Ah! he used to beat you! Wait a minute! Kids don’t beat their parents, why should parents beat their kids? I can’t stand violence against children. Did he ever beat you?

Tom Thumb: Yes, Father Thumb also beat me.

Ostrich: You know what? Father Thumb is no good. And your mother, instead of buying big hats with ostrich feathers, she’d better be taking care of you. And your father, he is not very smart, do you know what he said to your mother the first time he saw her? He said: ‘she looks like a big pond, it’s a shame there is no bridge.’ Everybody laughed!

Tom Thumb: I laughed, but my mother slapped my face: ‘you can’t laugh when your father says that’.

Ostrich: The thing, boo!!

 

Delphine:
At this point, I fell off the trapeze and broke my hand.
 
I think that I was taken by emotion looking at the audience. I fell off the trapeze and broke my hand, as a result I couldn’t speak anymore. The problem with working the trapeze, and telling a story at the same time, is that you have to be there with each part of the body, in the hands, in the legs, with each support point, you have to be concentrated. Except that I was telling a story at the same time, I lost focus and I fell.

 

14. Delphine and Storytelling, Maxime, Architecture and Drawings, Yovan and Composition.

Delphine:
My wrist was broken, I was operated on in Montceau, and they failed – you should never go to Montceau, you’ll know now – they failed me, I had to have another operation, so that lasted a year. As a result, I’d to earn a living.

 

Scene: Telephone call with the Venerable stroryteller

The Venerable: What do you intend to do?

Delphine: I’m banking on storytelling. I’m going to tell stories, I’m capable of it, since I did it on the trapeze..

The Venerable: You know, it’s a sign, if these things happen to you, it might be because you have got something else to do besides trapeze.

Maxime:
Visual arts are hyper wide in range. I don’t know if it’s a rule I’ve set up for myself, but I hadn’t explore that much outside drawing, so some of my friends told me: “Well, try to open up your practice a little.” I think it was good for me to gain confidence little by little with small formats, and gradually, I’ve become more at ease with large formats. As I’ve been doing a lot of skateboarding, and my brother makes skate art, he sculpts on skateboards, he introduced me to that, so, I did some skateboard art, I must have produced about ten of them, and then, recently, I was commissioned to do one on a big surfboard. I think it’s a question of feeling at ease, and after that, you can move on to bigger formats. What’s also amazing about skateboards is having the object in your hands, and being obliged to move with it, to move around it, whereas with the sheet of paper, it’s really only the wrist that’s moving. Here, there’s a relationship with the object, even if you’re not producing the form… I’m discovering all this gradually, bit by bit, as I become more comfortable with my artistic or illustrative approach.

Yovan:
When I compose, I often use a sound that develops in a given time. Sometimes I have to stretch it out a bit, make things longer, and sometimes a bit shorter, that’s why the repetitive side is convenient, and it’s also what you want, an electronic dimension. Normally, when I compose pieces, I have a beginning and an ending, I know where I’m going, and I like to have a little constraint especially for the music I compose for other’s projects or collaborative projects.

Delphine:
So, gently, I started telling stories and, in so doing, also becoming more self-confident. I think that you are completely naked when telling a story: slips of the tongue, tone of voice, all this tells things about yourself. I felt that it was for me a very delicate issue: being in front of an audience, being afraid of their judgment, of judging yourself. I’m very demanding, I’m very critical of myself, so I was very afraid of what I was going to experience with myself. Speaking in front of others, you’re committing yourself, committing a part yourself. I find that very risky, in fact.

Yovan:
And among the sources that have influenced me, there is a musician, actually not quite a DJ, called Débruit [17], who in particular did a project – KoKoKo! [18] – with percussionists from Kinshasa. It’s really interesting, precisely because he respects their work, he uses their music and just adds small electro touches, but doesn’t deform their music. What Débruit does inspired me well before that KoKoKo! project, but it is one of his most accomplished projects, because it really respects traditional music, and then goes for electronic touches to modernize it a bit.

Delphine:
With the trapeze, I gesticulate a lot, and as time goes by less and less, but it’s true that I move a lot, I engage my body a lot, and I work a lot with a double, often a musician. At the start, the guitarist Julien Lagrange [19] was the guy with whom I formed a trapeze-guitar duo, and he’s still participating in tale-guitar performances. That helps me a lot because we work things together, we set-up rhythm, it pushes me to work too, because when you are alone in your kitchen, you do it, but it’s less easy than when you meet someone to work with, so it helps me to be two. Often, after working on the stories with Julien, I also do them without the guitar. It’s reassuring not to be on my own, and that’s how you build things up.

Maxime:
My main activity is as an architect, but I don’t consider that drawing is just a hobby. There are times during the week which are reserved for drawing, so these two activities coexist. One is more important than the other, but as I’ve participated in exhibitions and I sometimes had commissions, I’ve also been able to sell certain works. Of course, the artistic part of my life is not the one that feeds me, but at the same time, I’ve been able to go further with it. I began by having an exhibition in a café in 2020, where I showed several drawings I’d made during and after my trip to Asia. I also made some drawings on skateboards, I’d done one tryptic and one diptych of skateboards, again in that style. In 2021, I’d an exhibition in a restaurant shared with another artist, I used the theme of the Mayas, because I’d been to Mexico. I had done for this exhibition a triptych of 3 skateboards, and a diptych of 2 skateboards with another artist working in a completely different universe. The same year I participated in a skate art exhibition in Roubaix, I sent in a diptych on the theme of Japan, some people got interested and bought it. It was very funny: a lady offered it to her husband, a former skateboarder and she said: “He is a fan of Japan, he loves skateboarding, I felt it was his style. We’ve put it in good place in our living room.” I was delighted.

Delphine:
I turned primarily to young audiences, I thought it was less judgmental. In a way, it’s harder, because if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work, that is they’re not going to pretend that it’s good. There is something about children, where if it doesn’t work, you know it straight away, there’s no two ways about it. And at the same time, there’s less judgment in relation to references, to labels, to what already exists.

Maxime :
Then we did a group exhibition in 2022 with my brother and another artist, where this time it was only skateboards that we sculpted. We decided that for each of us, there would be one skateboard we would do entirely ourselves, another that we would share with one of the other two artists, and the third would be shared with the other artist.

Yovan :
I work with Cubase. It’s not obvious, people don’t understand why. Everyone’s on Live. When I am on my computer, I don’t use Live often, in fact I never use it. It was always a bit of a struggle to say: “Well, I am on Cubase”. And during the first residency we had in Lyon, the sound engineer told me: “Ah! but I’m working on Live, you have to learn Live”, and finally he was a bit at a loss and so was I. We found a common ground and he saw that I had the latest Cubase version with the same functionalities, he understood quickly, and he showed me how to adapt the pieces in 7.1 [20] for a spatialization. I’d never done that, it stressed me a bit at first, so I said: “Well, that was an interesting thing to do.”

Delphine:
You have to be very demanding about what is told and by whom: if you tell a story that has been already told by such-and-such a person, or that comes from such-and-such a place, it might be poorly seen. For example, to tell a story that has been written by Henri Gougaud, because he’s a guy who takes up traditional tales, and puts them in his own name, you can’t do that. Or take up a story told someone else, you can’t copy-and-paste. You have to be careful with what you do, in fact, you can’t tell just anything. You have to respect everyone’s work, always say what’s the origin of your stories, from where it comes, from what country, from what culture. And as with any work, I think that as soon as you put your foot in it, the more you realize that there is work to do, it’s without end.

Maxime:
And last year (2022) we had a collective exhibition of surfboards at the Lyon City Surf Park near the Décines football ground. It was the opening vernissage of this sports facility, and they had asked 20 artists to draw on surfboards. I produced this work on Moroccan theme, because it’s quite well-known in the world of surf, I was inspired by Moroccan arts and I added the sea at the end.

Delphine:
When I speak of rhythm, it’s the rhythm of narration. Because often, there are moments when it’s almost singing, there are refrains that are repeated, and an ending. It has to grow in intensity, it has to decrease. There’s a real rhythm to the creation of a story. What is hard with the “Tale for a Common Future” is that it’s a very long story, so it’s more difficult to get into a rhythm.

 

15. The Live Drawing Project

Louis:
And then, I switched to video projection, and I started to design this first project that worked correctly, it was the “Live Drawing Project”, which was clearly the result of a meeting with Maxime Touroute, Maxime Hurdequin, and me. I met Maxime Touroute at a mapping workshop, he had just arrived in Lyon, and each one of us had in turn to present ourselves, and he said that he was working as a developer for Millumin. Maxime Hurdequin is my cousin, so, we’ve known each other since early childhood.

Maxime:
With the three of us, we organized a lot of working time together. At many times, even though we were working side by side, each one of us would work on our own. But there wasn’t this feeling of distance between us. With the Live Drawing Project, the heart of the matter remained the computer, it was really Maxime Touroute who coded, and then there were a lot of tasks that came into play: the communication part, the project management, preparation, set-up.

Louis:
In fact, there are three software programs that exist to do « mapping » and work very well, Resolume that I use, Madmapper which was designed by Swiss people and well known in the trade, and Millumin that tried to find a place in the performing arts.

Maxime:
It will be quite different with the “Tale of the Common Future” where the branches join together at the end during the residencies, and the rest of the time there is not much need to communicate with each other.

Louis:
And we thought that it might be to have people draw in order for their drawings to appear on a screen in real time.

Maxime:
For the Live Drawing you need to know what you are capable of doing and whether you can really encode as you go. OK, there, Louis, do you think that we will get there doing this on this interface?

Louis:
Well, no, it’s impossible, we cannot do it.

Maxime:
Hop ! So, you must have a lot more exchanges, because, the skills are much more linked together, it’s a constant ping-pong.

Louis:
And one month later we participated to the “Fête des Lumières” in Lyon.

Maxime:
During the “Fêtes des Lumières” in Lyon, it was in a bar, the Club des Lumières. The bar tender had stated: “I’ll give you 150 bucks for three days and you make me an event ‘Fêtes des Lumières’.” So we showed him our idea, I had made three drawings to explain it, and Maxime Touroute, did the coding every night for ten days, and it works very well. And what’s more, people would have enough to do, and only make one or two drawings and that’s it. We thought that when we proposed a little theme, draw a flower, draw a tree, we thought that people will have their own task at hand, and only make a small drawing, and that’s it. In fact, not at all, people get really interested, they stay for an hour drawing next to each other, saying: “Look at mine, look at mine!” And in the end, we realize that the more drawing themes we gave, the more people ideas people had, or they wouldn’t follow the proposed theme at all. I think we had found a really open tool. It’s true, we can’t deny this, that people had the tendency to look at their own phones in an individualist way, but because they were drawing right next to one another, they were also exchanging words with one another. And then there were those who didn’t draw, they looked at the big screen where the drawings were projected. We realize that when we passed between the people, things happened, people chatted, they showed each other things, it gave them ideas. We thought: “Yeah, that’s cool, we have got something there that’s rich”. That’s what we developed with Maxime Touroute and Louis, this tool, the Live Drawing Project, a project of participatory drawings that we enriched as we went along.

Louis:
And after that, it got rolling, we are now at our 140th projection.

Maxime:
With the Live Drawing project, when we use it, it’s really a big remote control. Maxime Touroute provided lots of keys: there is a key to change the color of the drawings, one to make them bigger, one to make them smaller, etc. And you can make crossfades, and things like that, but we are not really telling a story; we simply animate the images to avoid always having the same visuals, but it’s not narrative. By contrast, the “Tale of the Common Future”, with the Resolute software, and the fact that there is a storyteller, is really very narrative.

Louis:
We have been touring about everywhere in the world, it has worked super well.

Maxime:
This has been going on since 2018 until now. We had other gigs in 2019 and 2020. It became gradually better remunerated; we were able to buy a video projector, get an association to take care of the administrative side. So, little by little we became more professional. We travelled to Canada, to Denmark. Then there was the Covid confinement, so we developed tools specially for the confinement, by organizing remote communication events. This was for us a good source of revenue, we did it again with Denmark, this time in tele-conference. We are present in many countries, lately in Burma for example.

Louis:
And I told myself at some point that I would like to tell stories with this interface, to be able to do something participatory, and also tell a story so that the spectator would play an active role in shaping the narrative. As it happened, we did our first residency four years ago at LabLab in Villeurbanne [21] (a suburb of Lyon). That’s when we started to use this tool to tell a very short story: the coming to life of a digital anomaly. It was a very short 15 minutes tale, maybe even shorter. It took us four or five days to put it together. At that time, there was no tale yet. There was just a text projected on the screen, as with subtitles for a moving image. The public would draw things before entering the performance space, for example stars. In fact, what we wanted to test was the different types of interaction with the public, how we could get them to participate beforehand, during the projection, while looking, how to make them stop, etc. This residency helped me a lot afterwards in writing, and particularly interacting with the public. Maxime Hurdequint participated in the creation of the basic concept and after that he was doing the management of the project, publicity, looking for places to do it, he did quite a number of budgets templates, when we had to get people to sign, etc.

 

16. Delphine: Two Tales

Delphine:
With Julien, now, we present the tale of “Peter and the Witch”, it’s a traditional children’s story. I mention this one because it’s very rhythmic, between what I say and what he plays.

 

The Tale of Peter and the Witch

In a village, there is a witch.
(Julien plays, he doesn’t look at me, he listens to what I say, and he plays accordingly.)
Then all of a sudden, the witch starts to sing to Pierre, a small boy: [she sings]
“Crac, it’s me the most cunning, and cric, crac, I’m going to eat you up, ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!”
(Julien plays as soon as she sings, he finds the melody to accompany her.))
Hop !
She puts him in the bag.
Hop ! She closes the bag, ah! ah! ah! ah!
She walks, she goes up the path, she arrives to her manor, she puts the bag in the kitchen, she opens it. In fact, what’s inside?
Well, the kid escaped, and then put a stone in the bag, aaaaaaaaaah!”
(When the witch opens the bag, Julien stops playing, there should be a silence at that moment)
She opens it and what’s there inside?
« Aaaah aah ! »
A stone.
« You little brat!”
(This must be in silence. Then the guitar starts again on:)
Peter, the next morning, he doesn’t go to school, he goes on the path, he finds a pear… Hop! He wanders about.
(Julien plays according to what the storyteller is saying, for him there is a logic at work.)

 

Delphine :
There is also

The Tale of the Gingerbread Man

It’s the story of a gingerbread man made by a woman, she puts him in the oven, and he escapes through the window, runs away, runs, runs, and everybody is running after him, and he runs, runs, runs. And the fox, he is waiting for him at the other end, he entices him with big praises, so evidently, he trusts the fox. He gets on his back, and the fox, “crrrr”, eats him. (At this moment, we have to be together, when he devours him.) “Crrrr, hop!… He’s eaten him!!

 

Delphine:
So, Julien and me, we have some very well synchronized cues between us. He performs very near me, we know each other very well, he knows how I tell the story, so, we can improvise things together. We work a lot together face-to-face, even though we also do a lot of work on our own. I can give him the story that I want to tell on paper, or in a book. He brings his own stories too, and he says: “Ah! I’d like to hear that story, I think it’s cool, and plus I’ve got a musical universe for it”. I work a bit on my own, and he work a bit on his own, about roughly what we want to do. And then, we work on getting things in place. And we say: “Let’s do it!”

 

17. Origin of the “Tale of a Common Future”

Scene 1: The telephone rings at Delphine’s home. It’s Louis Clément

Louis: My name is Louis Clément. The association Antipode gave me your name. I would like to do a spectacle in which you imagine how it would be in 100 years, but in an ideal world.

Delphine: Ah yes! No doubt about it, we are in this ideal world…

Louis: 100 years from now, it’s been done!

Delphine: OK, and how did we get here?

Louis: I often tell stories, I’ve got the knack for it, I’ve done it with lots of students, because I participate a lot in artistic and cultural education residencies, and what I often talk about is trying to change the world on my own scale: again, it’s utopic on my part, but then it’s something which carries me along. How can I change the world? I can’t invent very cheap renewable energies, I can’t invent a totally carbon-free means of transport of the future, as for example the cargo-bike. So, I thought that I would just like to get people to reflect on their future and above all to try to go in the opposite direction to everything that’s a dystopia, to try to start with something where, basically, you think about a future in which everything goes well, and how is it possible to achieve this..

Delphine: What you say does me good. Because at the moment I’m in the dark, immersed in punks’ stuff, in things where the world is… Sometimes I think I’m going to throw a bomb on this world, I mean, we’re going to blow up things, when you realize what’s happening in the world, it’s just “aaaah!…” Sometimes, it seems that there are people to kill, there are things to blast, anyway it’s got to stop, period. I hang out with the world of punks, no future.

Louis : Through my reading, I got a lot of inspiration from stories telling us that basically it’s thanks to thinking that you achieve to do things. In particular Neal Stephenson, who is science-fiction author I quite like, who developed a theory called hieroglyph theory: it has to do with technological innovations, and thanks to science-fiction you are able to make major technological advances. His favorite example is the fuel for rockets, he explains that it’s a science-fiction novelist who said that it would work in such and such a way, and then afterwards, a researcher started to work on this idea using this writer’s intuitions and succeeded in creating the first rocket fuel. I like to tell this story to the students I work with or to the public, I like to stress the fact that, basically, if you want to move towards a desirable future, you need to think about it first. So, the first stage to having a world you want is just to reflect on it.

Delphine: In fact, it’s cool to imagine this, it counterbalances the dark ideas. OK say that in 100 years we will be in an ideal world, and you do everything possible to get there. It’s not a question of criticizing everything that’s wrong, of pointing the finger at what doesn’t work, even though you know so many things that are wrong. No, we’re going to say, OK, in 100 years’ time we’re in a cool place. So, OK. I don’t know what I’m getting myself into. Well, yes, I’m interested.

Louis: Well, you’re interested, go on, let’s do it..

Delphine: But you don’t want to see what I am doing beforehand? I play at the media library in Mâcon, on such a date, for children and in the evening for the general public.

Louis: Ah! I cannot in the evening, I will come at the performance for the kids.

 

Delphine:
So, Louis came to see my Jabuti performance at the Mâcon multimedia library: a trapeze performance, actually. We put the trapeze back on, because I’ve got a friend who is also trapezist. I’ve got a circus network around me. Jabuti was a spectacle of storytelling-trapeze-flute. It was a stroll: we went strolling with the public around the media library and led them to the trapeze. So, he came to see the performance, and that’s how we met for the first time.

Louis:
So, that’s how we crossed paths. Anyway, I arrived a little early before the performance, we had a chat, I explained the project, how it will happen, etc. After that, she presented her project, I had to go back to Lyon before the end of the performance, so I didn’t have time to debrief at the end.

 

Scene 2: New telephone call from Louis to Delphine.

Louis: Hello, hi..

Delphine: Hi.

Louis: I saw your performance, which I thought was very good. So yes, it’s fine with me, if you are still willing to do it, OK, let’s do it.

Delphine: OK, let’s do it.

Louis : Let’s go.

 

18. The AADN Immersive Project

Yovan :
The project of the Tale for a Common Future was initiated by Louis. It was his first real spectacle, he had at first few ideas that were still brewing, he knew what he wanted to do but he had difficulties putting his ideas into concrete form. So, when we started talking about it, he had in mind a first team and above all he was looking for funding, in any case, so that we could get places to enable us to create the immersive aspect of the spectacle. A first proposal was put forward, it came close, but it didn’t work. Then, once we got the funding from AADN for this immersive project in planetariums, let’s say in certain towns in France, we started to talk about writing the spectacle, because it was about one year before the first performance.

Maxime:
It started that way. Louis had the intuition to bring us together. In 2019, we organized a residency to try to tell a story using Live Drawing. We made a 5-minute piece, with very, very simple graphics, frankly, it was great. Telling stories became a possibility, but at this point we didn’t go any further. It gradually germinated along the way.

Louis :
And then there was the call for proposals by AADN (Arts & Cultures Numériques) [22] – I was a benevolent member of its Executive Board. They launched a call for immersive creation. It interested me a lot because I started going to see immersive full dome spectacles, and I thought it was pretty crazy, well, it was rather amazing! The immersion that was felt in front of these images aroused my interest. The AADN point of view was to bet on collective immersion, that is to get many spectators to participate in an experience, rather than to have an individual immersion as in virtual reality (with headsets). I liked the idea of going against individual forms of immersion. We’re talking today of the « Metaverse » [23] it means that it’s either about immersing yourself individually in a collective thing or it’s about collectively immersing yourself in a work: you’re all together.

Maxime:
So, it’s Louis who really comes up with the concept, he knows already what he wants to do, and who he wants to work with. We found a first storyteller, but in the end, we didn’t necessarily get the grants we wanted, so we ended up finding a second storyteller, Delphine, and Louis had already found Yovan for the music, who he knew very well. And we got the immersive grant in 2021.

Louis :
We answered the AADN call for projects, I don’t remember the exact date. I took a certain number of decisions: I started by telling this story, I came up with the name of “A Tale of a Common Future”, in retrospect, I think that it speaks to a lot of people. After a first refusal to our proposal for the AADN Call for immersive projects, we resubmitted a project. And this time we got it and the AADN agreed to take us on as a delegated production, which meant that they’d help us raise money and to get performances. And from that moment we have to produce written proposals and start the residencies. I’d been working with Maxime Hurdequint with the Live Drawing, we couldn’t do without his drawing skills, I asked him to make the sets. I thought that a musician was needed, so obviously I asked Yovan Girard, whom I admire a lot, he made a lot of music with a sensibility that I like. He usually composes strictly musical pieces, but he had already done a theater piece with someone. I know he can do it too. We’ve known each other since early childhood, my parents and his parents are very close friends, my mother and his father went to high school together, I think.

 

19. The “Tale of a Common Future”

Louis :
So, I set up a calendar for creative actions, we decide on dates, we start doing things together, etc. I continue in parallel to seek more fundings on my own. While this Call to immersive projects grant brings us some money, it’s not enough to pay everybody all the time, and what’s more, I ask people to work outside the residency periods. We’ve submitted I don’t know how many applications to various organizations. For example, we submitted three times a proposal to the Hybrid Creation in Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes before getting something from them, and also we applied to the CNC (Centre National du Cinéma) and we were successful, as a result we obtained a substantial amount of money. Thanks to that I can breathe a little easier, because I’ll be able to pay people properly for their creation, this is for us a great chance.. And then, we also got some funding from SACEM (music author’s right society). And we were able to do another residency, at the LabLab, and to pay the Enghien-les-Bains Centre des Arts residency, that was not otherwise renumerated. This residency lasted two weeks, because the place by chance was available. They would provide the place, but that’s all, they didn’t do any co-production, they didn’t give us any money for that.

Before finding the title of the “Tale of a Common Future” (Conte d’un futur commun), I was thinking that the reactions of the public should be able to inflect the story’s unfolding. If it was written, we would have arborescent scenarios, with multiple choice trees, this was going to be potentially very complex. And then, there was that idea of a story told around a fire, with people participating, that kind of thing. What pleased me was the opposition between the tale as one of the oldest forms of “art” with its manner of telling stories, and the participatory side, the smartphones, the projection, you had to find a balance between the two. So, I decided that it could be a tale.

Delphine, Maxime, Yovan and I started to work together on this project. I really had already the whole universe of the tale in my head. The first time Delphine and I met, I had the whole unfolding of the story. I knew where it starts, what you are going to see, and how it all ends. In fact, I didn’t really know the storyline, but the places where it happens.

 

20. Louis, One Year to Reflect

Louis :
For a year, practically nothing happened, there were no meetings or anything else. I was thinking on my own, in a rather introspective way. Nothing specific was emerging, but I read an enormous number of books, no longer just for “pleasure”. I made a huge list of works to read. These are all references to concepts, people, thinkers, projects that inspire me, from people who would talk about how they were writing about this topic.

During this year of thinking about the project, when decisions had to be made, it was all in my head, at no time had I written down anything. I formalize things in my head, I just say to myself: this is going to be like that, we’ll start there. And then there was this idea of going to visit places where there are communities living in harmony with their environment, and that, in fact, cannot be done in a hurry: one would do a complete tour of the environment, in the forest, the mountain, through the airs, under the water… And then, I thought, on account of their importance, the city should be a big thing, which will not disappear, so we needed to find an interesting way to inhabit this town. I read a lot of stuff on re-wilding in fashion, like Baptiste Morizot [24], all those people speaking about how to give back a place to nature in the city.

 

21. The writing of the Tale, Louis and Delphine

Louis :
With Delphine, we meet a first time for two days. At the beginning, I come with my story, but in fact I really have only the places of action, and Delphine is the one who’s going to knit everything together, the relationships between the characters, how they are going to be, how they’ll talk to each other, and that helps me a lot. I present my ideas to her and how they might be developed: I want the heroine to go there, and there, and there…

Delphine:
I draw, I write, and then, on my own I go over it again, I reimagine what it looks like, and I find a way to say it. And then, when I’ve found it, I can fix it on paper, and I put the texts on my computer. But after that, I keep modifying them a lot.

 

Delphine Descombin, notes 1/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Delphine’s notes (photo Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

Delphine :
That’s why I have lots and lots of texts on my computer. When I am working in the residencies, I need to have written papers that I cross out, that I correct directly, you see, for example here, it’s all corrected. I am lost if it’s too much a shambles. It also has to be clear in my head, that’s why I write a lot of texts. Writing the tale starts always with paper, because I’m in the habit of writing by hand. Louis is on the sofa and says to me: “OK.”

 

Scene 1: the first working session between Delphine and Louis.

Louis: OK. Let’s start with the arboreals.

Delphine: We need a heroine.

Louis: There’s the question of whether it should be a girl or a guy.

Delphine: Neither, as far as I’m concerned.

Louis: Should we use the principle of saying “iel” [he and she at the same time in French.]

Delphine: For me, it’s a little complicated to put in place, because of the conjugations behind it and the understanding by the audience is a bit tricky. I read books which use “iel”, which means “he and she”, in order to avoid having a feminine or masculine character. Many feminists use this formulation. It’s complicated when you have a public that doesn’t know, children, for example, you say “iel” and they are not going to understand.

Louis: We can decide that it will be a girl.

Delphine: Yes, but with a name that can be applied to both genders. Instead of using he and she in the text, you could use the first name of the person.

Louis: I propose Camille. [25]

Delphine: I agree.

Louis: I’ve got all the places we’re going to visit: arboreal, after that the city, after that the coral, … I’d like Camille to go over there, over there, and over there and I don’t know where Camille’s going to go in the end.

Delphine: We could add the idea of « magnets » (compasses) that people go to see to determine who are the ones who heal. And also, prairies, plants, and it could end up underwater.

Louis: There’s this idea of the Great Council that’s probably located in the city

Delphine: I’m noting everything you say spontaneously on paper and keeping it in a file. I keep everything in bulk, even the things we’re going to reject in the show. This is the pile of the entire « Tale of a Common Future ». You see, it’s a mess! Some of the sentences are very clear, I write them down because they seem right to me, I sometimes found them orally.

Louis: I describe where it will take place, what we want to happen, where it’s going, and what can be found each time, and you, you’ll transform it all into a story. It’s you who will write the text, the major part of the story.

Delphine: I note : “Forest, going through the forest. The train station. The village. The city. The grassland.” I propose to have the grassland before the sea. And then, at the end, that Camille doesn’t return home. We have to find something that involves the audience, that make them evolve throughout the performance, so that they come away from it as though they’d been on a journey. I want people to come away shaken up, that they could say “we went on a journey to a world unknown to us”, a world that brought back some memories, that made us ask questions about ourselves.

Louis: What I like is this idea of an initiation rite, it’s an initiation journey.

Delphine: You see that I’ve even annotated the body positions: am I facing the public? Do I turn around? We can also work on the stage directions, it’s also an important dimension.

 

Delphine Descombin, notes 2/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Delphine’s notes (photo Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

Scene 2: the same, a little later.

Delphine: In this scene, Camille goes down into the submarine city.

Louis: Yeah, you see, we could have bubbles floating outside and then there could be cables falling into the water.

Delphine: I’m drawing it.

 

Delphine Descombin, notes 3/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Delphine’s notes (photo Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

Scene 3: the same, biocracy.

Louis: Concerning climate control, it’s the idea of piercing the clouds to make them rain.

Delphine: You see, “technological solutionism”, I know I have to put it somewhere, but I don’t know where. They are like that: biocracy.

Louis: Somebody who really inspired me about biocracy was Camille de Toledo [26]. I went to one of his lectures, “The Witnesses of the Future” as part of the European Lab. In fact, what I really liked in this, was that he was talking about a future where people were going to ameliorate the world all the while changing it. I was really touched by the emotional side of this. Additionally, it was something easily feasible in the world we live in, that is, it was to decide to give nature the rights to be represented as a legal entity in the same way as a corporation. Basically, this gives to nature the right to sue people who destroy it. I found that very clever because it’s something that rests on something really quite minimal. We always tend to think that you need to make enormous changes in making the world move. And in fact, no, it’s really only the small details that count, thanks to a system that already exists, you can change the world.

Delphine: Camille de Toledo, here he is, he imagined that in the future, there would be houses that would have been destroyed in order to make zones of carbon rain. Then, the people who were not happy with this would take it to court. This story is very moving to me. There is a kid who says: “My father came back crying, he had tears in his eyes, and I wondered why he was crying like that, why he was so sad, what happened?” In fact, he was crying from joy, and he said: “The bees are no longer dying, if the bees stopped dying, it means that we are on the brink of achieving what we want.” He imagines that there’s been a real change, about women too. Camille de Toledo is the one who gave us the idea to launch all these lawsuits: lake Annecy against the owners of the lake, the Danube against the Vienna town hall, the North Sea against the Russian tankers, the Upper Mediterranean against the Suez Canal, the Primary Forests Association against the coal producers. It was also important to me to speak out, even if it got me back into the not-so-cool stuff. It’s true, when you get back into it, ouch! you say to yourself, that just isn’t acceptable!

Louis: Well then, I find that perhaps what you said is a little too negative, it implies that there’s something negative in this world, in this perfect world. “Perfect” here is in quotation marks, it’s not perfect but it’s a desirable world.

 

Scene 4: the mudslide

Delphine: Then, what is our heroine doing there? What’s happening to her? Above all, what is the basis of the technique?

Louis: You write, you use up a lot of paper, you’ll write a lot of things that in the end will not be included.

Delphine: We don’t have an ending, we’ve got nothing, we’re off on something whose beginning we know, but without knowing where we are going. What causes Camille to leave in the end?

Louis: A mudslide.

Delphine: A mudslide isn’t obvious to me as a resolution to the problem of the end.

Louis : Well, we’ll chose that anyway, because it seems to be most fitting.

 

Scene 5: the propel stretch.

Delphine: There is the whole propel stretch story. Listen, what do you mean exactly by your “propel stretches”?

Louis: The propel stretch is an elastic fabric that stretches.

Delphine: Where do you hang them? You know, what do you hang them on? It stretches, OK, but after that, how do you let it go?

Louis: She hangs it on a branch, she stretches it herself, and she lets go and it propels her in the sky, and like that, she can even travel 50 km!

Delphine: She’s got to have a helmet, she’s got to have a mask!

Louis: Perhaps you don’t have to say anything, you just leave the audience to imagine things.

Delphine: Yes, all right, you just imagine it, and it doesn’t shock people too much. We don’t want it to be too incongruous. We want things that were really possible to imagine. So, there’s none of the magic you find in fairy tales. For example, there are no animals that speak, whereas in tales, frequently, a bird talks, a deer talks, in this case no, the animals don’t speak. In any case, you don’t understand their language.

 

Scene 6: The abandoned zone.

Louis: There is an abandoned zone.

Delphine: I write “abandoned zone” with a color pencil.

Louis: It’s not necessarily written there, projected on the wall. In fact, it’s part of the journey: here it’s the city, the grassland, and there is an abandoned zone, you know, where there are factories in ruins that are being reconverted, it’s everything you find in a city. At the top of the city in fact, it’s full of recycled oil platforms.

Delphine: I write: “Animals, monkey bridges, insect hotel.” Everything you’d like to see in this place in your imagination. Generally speaking, we have to touch on a bit of everything, without going each time for the same things, because it can quickly be too repetitive.

Louis: It’s a real headache.

Delphine: For example, I would still like to speak about women, about a place where old people are taken care of, where children are born, there should be a place for this. It’s not easy to speak of all that and at the same time continue the story of Camille’s quest. It’s dense, you have to make choices, it’s sometimes not obvious to combine everything, not to make it heavy, and at the same time say everything you want to say. I would like to speak of water, of all the scarcity of lands. “Pfff” I would like to speak of money “lalala”, there are so many topics, it’s a problem.

Louis: We start by saying “let’s keep everything, more or less everything that we want to convey,” and then, we’ve got to take out quite a lot.

Delphine: But there’s no point in saying that, we will not talk about money.

Louis: Well, yes, let’s get rid of it.

Delphine: Yes, because this story is so dense!

 

Louis:
It’s Delphine who writes the text since she is the one speaking. I say, “you have to say that”, and she writes it. She takes notes, I give her the places and the humans, she writes and then she starts to tell it. When she has the time to do it, she makes a recording of herself and sends it to us, and then she reworks this until it helps her to make its way to her head, she has a storyline, and so she is able to take away some bits and pieces and add other ones. She sends audio files or some text, it depends, and often the big jobs are done during the residencies.

Delphine:
Louis on the sofa doesn’t write, I’m the one who does that. He’s more on his phone, searching things. For example, recently we were looking for submarine cities, he’s going to search to see what it looks like, what really exists, so that you can draw inspiration from this. Or when I said to him: “Ah! give me a synonym for this or that, because I am in the process of writing, and I don’t find the word.” Snap, he looks for it. I ask him questions: “Ah! what do you think she will do if she did that? Is it possible that she would rather do that?” – “Ah! yes, wait a minute, no, but that’s because she just does it that way!”. And me: “OK, yes, you’re right.” That’s it.

Louis:
After it’s a matter of details, I correct very little of what she’s done, I give my opinion, but I don’t say: “Tell it this way, tell it that way.” I know that she is the one who is going to speak the text. Delphine doesn’t think to consider herself as improvising, there is always a text, but she modifies the text as she speaks, for her it’s a question of memorization, the way in which her brain memorizes what will come out of her mouth, but she modifies the text a little. She listens to her recorded voice reading the text, and she changes things accordingly. When she learns it by heart, it modifies all by itself in her head. She has a mental map she’s made of where it goes, a pathway that unfolds.

Delphine:
I don’t have any memorization problems because once I take this path, I know it’s going straight and it’s rolling on. Usually, I take a text, a story, that already exists, that I’ve heard, or I’ve read, so I have a text, something like a basic traditional story. Then, I put my own chosen words, but the story still exists. Sometimes I improvise around the text. I often work on improvisation at home, but I keep the thread of the story, I don’t betray it. Even if the texts are sometimes completely written, if the text is effectively well written, and you have a refrain, this kind of little fredaine, it’s good to respect it, because it gives rhythm to your story. Often even when the stories are well written, you can really transform the way the story is written, and to tell it in a different manner, but most of the time, you keep the story line. When it’s me who writes the text, I can do what I want, if not, I have to respect it. When I’m working on a text, I search for my words by saying them loud as if I had an audience in front of me, and when I find a sentence that clicks, paf! I write it down quickly, hop! OK! I repeat it out loud and then I continue. Fixing what I say in writing means I don’t forget it, it would be a shame to when you find a sentence that has a beautiful music. It’s when I find my words, my music, that it immediately takes hold, I can recall it because it fits well. It’s when I find the right words that I can remember them better.

 

22. The Drawings and their Animation, Louis and Maxime H.

Scene 1: Telephone call between Maxime H. and Louis.

Louis: Hello, Maxime? We got the AADN Call for Immersive Projects grant. Well, that’s it, we’re going for it.

Maxime: So, this time, that’s it, we go for it, But I don’t know how to do comics, I don’t know how to do motion design, I absolutely don’t have the skills to do that. Frankly, I don’t know where I was going at all. Ah! Louis, eventually someone got to help me, because I don’t really draw characters, at least not animated ones, I’m more used to making background sets. How are we going to do it? What’s more, we were successful in getting a grant to be immersive, therefore, under a dome, so there are a certain number of challenges. But well, we will just have to see, let’s go for it!

Louis: In my opinion, in order to adapt the dome to the frontal, I’m going to need some time at the lab, or we should have another residency together. I don’t intend to include you at all in most of the residencies, because you’ve just become a father, and I know what it means. There’s no need for you to come, given that you don’t play any role “live” during the performance, there is no obligation to have you present, even though, for the cohesion of the piece, it’s always more interesting to have you there.

Maxime: Concerning the residencies, in theory – there is theory and then there is practice – everything is already done, since all my drawings should be ready. Except that if it’s the first time that they are projected, I realize that the tree I’ve drawn is too small, or it doesn’t appear with enough contrasts, so there are a lot of back-and-forths with Louis.

Louis: In fact, I integrate the images into my software, which then projects them.

Maxime: And as you project them to me, I often say to myself: “Oh! no, I’m not going to leave this drawing, it’s not suitable.” Or I make modifications. That’s what the residencies are for. I have to be there right from the start to go back-and-forth with Louis when he’s setting up the story to see if it’s appropriate to the place. So, how are we going to work together?

Louis: First, we both work separately. You will have to draw a factory for the end of the Tale.

Maxime: Ah, no, I don’t like it that way!

Louis: Where are your drawings for the two big projects for the “Nuit Blanche” in Paris? Did you do them? Can I drop by your home to see them?

Maxime: I’ll put them in the Dropbox, so you can check on them regularly. There are some new ones.

Louis: Here we are, I need you to draw me a town in which buildings and nature are intermingled. They are intertwined, but still in a distinct manner, that is, you need to have passages for the animals, and then, there are other passages for humans. So, go ahead.

Maxime: Well, I have no idea… I will make 3 or 4 sketches, but frankly, I have no idea. We’ll have to drink a fair number of coffees together.

Louis: I’ve never bothered you, you do what you want. But yeah, I do bother you! It’s good what you did with drawing the city but just here, I see that you drew the city from above. But it should be seen from underneath, like this, it would be better, you see. You need to redo the city.

Maxime: That’s it, I’m off again for 20 hours of drawing to remake the town.

Louis: You see this image for only three seconds at a given moment, while this drawing takes an enormous amount of time for you to produce.

Maxime: It’s a bit frustrating.

Louis: If you don’t do it, it wouldn’t bother me, you don’t need to follow my advice.

 

Maxime :
Concerning the ways to adapt the drawings to the situation under a dome, at the beginning I had no idea what size, what level of precision I needed to make the drawing. I didn’t know, when I put my drawing in the dome, if it was going to be too small or too big, so in fact, I made it so that the drawing could be repeated laterally. That is, when you have a drawing, if you make a photocopy, for example, and place it to the left side of the initial drawing, then it connects perfectly, and so it’s infinite. I thought that if I had to draw a forest, I would start by drawing four trees, and after that I could reproduce the pattern ad infinitum. So, I could adjust according to the situation, if I realized that I needed to reproduce four times the drawing to go around you, or if it took eight times, I could in this way adjust my production, knowing that you have to be aware that if it’s too out of sync, I could stretch my drawing a bit to be at the right height. In any case, I bet on the idea of reproducing the pattern.

 

Scene 2: Maxime and a member of the technical team

A member of the technical team: Hello Maxime. Do you have a question?

Maxime: How can I adapt the image to project under the dome?

The member of the technical team: Well, it should be a circle, so the image that’s video-projected has to be a circle.

Maxime: OK, but my drawings are squares! And above all I am incapable of predicting the deformation that I need to apply when drawing in a circle.

The member of the technical team: You have to draw without any deformation, and to find on your computer which command, which tool to use in Photoshop for making the deformation.

Maxime:
I searched on the web, right? I tested, I didn’t succeed! It would only make weird deformations, and I finally found that actually I could twist it into a semi-circle, and in that case, I could do a symmetrical copy-and-paste, and this would produce a full circle to be video-projected. After that, once this worked, it was really like a machine, when I make a new drawing, I prompt the same command, and it does the job automatically. Once I have a new drawing, it’s processed by the machine, and it comes out with the right size and the right deformation, then, if necessary, I can eventually make small adjustments. Once under the dome, it’s the moment of truth, and I say to myself: “I’ve anticipated in relation to what I did last time, but perhaps with this particular dome, it will need a little rescaling.” So, with each residency, there is with Louis a time of setting up where I have to give him back often almost all the contents, often one by one, and this forces him to rescale them.

 

Louis :
Concerning the animation of the drawings, I get one of Maxime’s drawings with inverted color, with black background instead of white. When we work under a dome, he has already processed the image to fit the dome. And then, from there, I combine them together to make it the way I want, given that the aim of animation was really to make something very simple at the beginning, and after to complexify it as the story unfolds. I enter an image into the software, and thanks to this I can animate it, displace it, and add effects, stylistic effects, on top of it. And then, to animate the images I have to launch something, so that it moves in a certain way, at a certain speed, so that it goes up or down, etc. Basically, the software is not designed to do that, but I use it that way. Then, I make some cross-fades, be it a cross-fade to black then another image, or one with another image appearing on top, or other options. And I make things move inside the image, or I add a transparency, that is, I add another image on top of the first one and I make it move over it. For example, I make the masks of the Great Council go up, fairly simple things like that. During all the first residencies, I struggle to work the control buttons, to make the image go up. Then afterwards, I have to go back to previous states of things, and once we’ve finished, the loop is ready to go, I have to go back to the beginning and remember where things are located, so as to be able to reset them to zero, and then to relaunch them, so that when I click on the thing again, it restarts the animation at the right place.

I’d done a clip for Kunta, which is Yovan’s group, I participated in a residency with them at the LabLab, where I was doing the video projection part for them (there was a guy filming), and we’re having a hell of a time, because I was on Resolume, and they had a thing where it’s precisely timed on their Medlay [27] to the second. And so, the videographer redid exactly the same shot seven times, so he could do the editing inside. It meant that all my video clips had to be timed to the nearest thousandth. Well, it was a struggle, it took us two days to do it, it was endless. Then I thought: “Never this again! It’s really too horrible.”

Scene 3: Louis, a colleague, and the software Chataigne.

A colleague: Have you heard of another software that could control this, called « Chataigne« , which has been designed by someone from Lyon, Ben Kuperberg? With Chataigne, you could have triggered your things clip by clip, and you could have been in a timeline really down to the second. Chataigne is a sort of dashboard that establishes communication between different software programs.

 

Louis :
So, I start working on Chataigne, I’m relying on simple tutorials, there’s documentation, etc. I’m more or less able to launch my first clip on my own: if I press such and such a letter, it triggers the clip. But I found out that it’s better to put it on a timeline, because if I have to use all the keyboard keys, I might hit the wrong key and it wouldn’t work anymore. With the timeline, each time I press the space bar I launch something, and I can press it a second time to stop it.

 

Scene 4: the same, later.

A colleague: I’m going to show you how to use cues, so that the thing would stop automatically at the right moment.

Louis: But when I use the cues, several times it happens that when I press the space bar two things are triggered: Ah! No! not that!

The colleague: Ah! yes, it’s true, not stupid!

Louis: Can we use the portable phone to do it?

The colleague: You can try it, it also works.

 

Louis :
So, I tried it and it worked, however, I can’t do everything, because Chataigne works well with Resolume, but I can’t retrieve the drawings, I can’t adapt Live Drawing with Chataigne. Precisely. To be exact, I can’t do it all the time, I still have to be behind my computer at certain times, especially when there’s the public participating, if only to see what they are writing. So, when it’s running, if I encounter some troubles, I have to phone friends to know how to do things. As with all the projects, it’s always happening that way.

 

Scene 5: Louis and the software Chataigne.

Louis: Thanks to you, Chataigne, I’m now able to create a timeline.

Chataigne: Yes, you give me some elements.

Louis: Here is an element, you launch this thing, you make it go up to there.

Chataigne: Everything that you were doing practically by hand, I do it all by myself automatically. Here are five images I’ve done.

Louis: And then, you reset the first image to zero, well, for example, such and such coordinates at 5000 pixels you reset to zero, and you put it back to a 100% opacity.

Chataigne: Yes, Louis, with great pleasure. Thanks to me, you can top all your things now, you don’t need to click anymore, to search, to move things.

Louis: Thanks to you, I just have to press the space bar, it unfolds the things, that’s all.

 

Scene 6: Louis and Maxime. Projection under the dome.

Louis: Thanks to another software, I was able to overcome the constraints that I had in the beginning. On the other hand, when we changed to being under a dome, there really was a tricky transition, because all my things that were travelling from left to right, from top to bottom, diagonally, and when you’re under a dome, this doesn’t work. Because if you move from left to right, then you get nothing, there’s no image, and it looks a bit weird, it moves. Because under the dome you have a square image, 7000 by 7000 or 8000 by 8000, where the top is now basically at the center of the image.

Maxime: I make the drawings with a format of a square of 4000 by 4000 pixels, and then I process them to make a circle. To make a semi-circle I’m obliged to copy a second drawing to produce a rectangle of 4000 by 8000 pixels. I then multiply the semi-circle by 2 to produce symmetrically a full circle. So, in general, I make a square drawing that will appear 4 times under the dome. The center of the circle is the highest point of the image in a dome, and that’s where the deformation is strongest. So, I don’t have any interest in getting too close to the center, because otherwise my drawings are really crushed. Since we have many outdoor scenes, my drawings are often rectangular. And when I process them with the computer, I “hop”, increase the page surface at the top and it produces a square format. And there are other elements that forced me to change strategy: for example, there is a library, with books all the way up to the ceiling, so I made a really small drawing, in a pattern that I multiplied maybe 50 times, like a wallpaper, and then, there, I was able to put it all the way to the top. The pattern is multiplied in width and height, so the drawing has to be able to be superimposed on itself both vertically and horizontally.

Louis: In fact, it took me a while to figure out how to do it, and then to understand that if I wanted to animate an image, you had to zoom inside this 7000 by 7000 square so as to see a movement either like this or like that. So, I zoomed in and rotated. I took a series of plug-in effects on Resolume [28] that are specially adapted for the dome and enable you to do what we call “Fisheyes rotations”.

 

Maxime:
I could have chosen a much simpler way of drawing to fit the diverse projection formats. I could have, I think, drawn directly on an iPad, and done everything with a computer. But I work with computers all day long when I’m an architect, I really wanted to go through the felt-tip pen. It’s a rather archaic choice, everything starts with a sheet of paper sheet and a felt-tip pen. In order for my drawings to follow each other, I make my first drawing, then I place something like a bookmark with the same height as the drawings on the right-hand side of the drawing and so I extend it. Then I take this bookmark and put it on the other side of the sheet, and I extend it again in a way that it will fit. It’s this little bookmark that I can slide to the right or on the left, which will ensure the continuity of the juxtaposed drawings. It’s true that that’s very simple to show, but rather difficult to explain.

Sometimes, I worked with tracing paper: at the beginning of the piece, there’s a forest and then, there’s a city in the forest. So, I had two solutions: either I stayed archaic, and drew the forest a second time, adding the city, or I would use a old-fashioned tracing paper and would draw the city on top. That’s what I did, so I saved a lot of time, and was able to concentrate more on other things. That way, sometimes, the final drawing doesn’t really exist, it’s not completely on a single paper. It’s not as such usable for an exposition. At another moment, there is a flying vessel, I drew the vessel empty first, because we didn’t have much time. I thought it’s no big deal, I’ll just put a piece of paper on top and draw all the characters, and so if I mess up on a character, it’s all right, I am not going to lose my vessel, I will have a second chance. When I am not completely confident, I have this possibility to superpose several layers of drawings that can then function together with the computer. This is a freedom that’s quite pleasant, when you draw, everything comes from the hand, but afterwards, you can reassemble, you can correct, you can also erase things.

Using the computer, it can happen that little jointures are not always perfect, given my famous archaic technique of a bookmark, then I need to make adjustments. Consequently, I’ve found I’ve erased more when making adjustments than when reworking a drawing because of blemishes on it, like an accidental drop of coffee on my completed drawing. The computer can save me from time wasting mistakes.

 

Scene 7: Louis and Maxime.

Maxime: That one’s too small, that one’s is crooked, that one’s not right.

Louis: Here this drawing doesn’t come out right, there’s not enough contrast, or it’s too small.

Maxime: I’m going to work on it.

Louis: No, it’s not right, it’s too small, it’s ugly. I need to change it.

Maxime: But I didn’t think you’d be able to come up with so many different effects so as not to make it boring and so as to make it fit the story line.

 

Maxime:
The sketches are made in black and white in a very loose manner, that is I let the wrist to guide me, and then, when the sketch begins to take shape, I add colors to distinguish a little the different elements.

 

Maxime Hurdequint, sketches 1/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Maxime’s sketches (photo Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

Maxime :
The way in which I draw is based on patterns that repeat themselves. At first, I try to find in the sketch the recipe ingredients, so from there I’m cooking things. For example, there are many trees in the drawings, so, I find the good form of a tree.

 

Maxime Hurdequint, sketches 2/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Maxime’s sketches (photo Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

Maxime :
Then, if it’s a city, I find the pattern of a facade, and in the case of the city, there are passageways for the animals, I’ve found a solution for this by suspending the passageways on balloons. After that, everything is assembled, I make sure that it’s always intermingled, you can see that it’s intermingled, but it doesn’t clash together. This is more or less the way I make my drawings, to have a sort of harmony between many ingredients.

 

Maxime Hurdequint, sketches 3/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Maxime’s sketches (photo Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

Maxime:
I draw my first sketches with a pen, not a pencil. When I get down to the final drawing, I use a pencil to outline the main axes, that is the drawing will not be entirely made with pencil, but you’ll have the silhouette of the main elements. Then I draw them immediately with a felt-tip pen. At the end, I erase the small silhouettes I made at the beginning. Thus there are quite a few lines structuring the drawing.

I usually do my drawings with a pencil and erase this at the end, I rarely need to go back to it. I’ve done a few drawings where I try to ignore the rules of perspective, I respect them a little, but I’m quite free. Some scenes are indoor, and I wanted to do something with the right proportions, so here, it takes a much longer time: I spent maybe 2 or 3 hours just on the pencil drawing, erasing, drawing, erasing until I’ve really found the drawing, and in this case, I entirely redraw with a felt-tip pen, but it’s almost more a coloring work. Then, there are a lot of drawings where it’s a very loose outline, and straight away a completed drawing. In my drawings I use different approaches.

There is a part during the piece where the animation of the images is predominant and at the start, I don’t know how we’re going to do it. I make lots of drawings, but I don’t know how we’re going to animate them. I trust Louis, thinking he’ll know how to make the transition from, let’s say, the forest to the city, he might do a fade in black, or he will make the image appear gradually, so he is the one who is doing the true artistic creation by linking things together. So, there are characters, there are elements to integrate into the image, it’s him who will position them, and make them move (because we have some objects that move).

 

Projection 4 mai 2023 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Projection, 2023, May 4th (photo AADN).

 

23. A traditional music of the future?

Scene 1: Louis et Yovan.

Louis: I want you to make me some traditional music of the future.

Yovan: It’s a complicated thing, because a traditional music is already full of codes, it’s not the way I work.

Louis: I say that because I am under the influence of Super Parquet, a group that mix electronic music with traditional music from Central France, which I heard in concert and I liked a lot, I like this type of traditional music of the future.

Yovan: The idea is rather to make an electronic music that wouldn’t only be synthetic, and above all, I’m not acquainted with the practice of a traditional music. Let’s let the audience imagine things. We can be inspired by a lot of different sources, this corresponds better to my way of thinking.

Louis: If I mentioned the idea of traditional music of the future, it was just to give you a little orientation.

Yovan: Traditional music might be more reassuring to me if I approached it with the idea of modernizing it; this could really become a base for my work, since I don’t have too many rules, and I don’t know where to start. I prefer to say that I start with an electronic music that’s also somewhat organic.

Louis: Concerning traditional music, I’d spoken with Jacques Puech [29], thanks to the Aleph ensemble, and he told me that traditional music is in fact much more alive than any written music, because it continuously evolves as it goes along. So, I thought it would be interesting to effectively go and see this side of things.

Yovan: Yeah, I like it, I’m going to use some loops of African traditional music, loops of I-don’t-know-what.

Louis: We are not really talking about the social functions of traditional music, nor about how it’s written, or how it reaches definitive form.

Yovan: It’s more something like: “I’m going to take bits and pieces and I am going to adapt them to my own brew”.

Louis: In any case, knowing your music, I’m not expecting for you to have a traditional music approach.

 

24. Music Elaboration. Pre-recorded or Live Music. Louis and Yovan.

Scene 1: Louis and Yovan.

Louis: It’s a matter of creating an immersive spectacle with a musician on stage.

Yovan: I like to have a well-defined framework to understand what you want.

Louis: I would like you to improvise while doing your own music.

Yovan: I don’t want to do that, for me it means everything and nothing. If you want me to compose musical productions such as electronic music pieces or anything else I can do, it would have to be defined in our grant applications, because we have to put it into precise words. You have to explain things and give references to traditional music.

Louis: It’s a tale about ecology, about the planet, about nature.

Yovan: Then, maybe we need something more than just electronics, with organic instruments as well. But if you want, I can do some live music with the violin and effects.

Louis: No, I’d like you to compose music because you are usually composing for other projects, either electro, pop or other things.

Yovan: In that case, I might as well try to time what’s happening with Delphine so that the music corresponds, with noise effects, and all that. It’s simpler to put only a little bit of live music, but to give priority to a musical writing where I have more freedom to compose, and not just play violin.

Louis: It would be good to have several instruments.

Yovan: I will try to do something that follows Delphine and what she’s telling, and then I’ll see what I can play live as we go along. Since I’m always on my mouse to be certain to trigger some noise effect at the right time with Delphine, then I’m not going to play everything live, I’ve got to make choices. Consequently, there are lots of things that will be pre-written, with this idea of having electronic pieces, and at some point, as you want violin, yes, I can stand up. But at the beginning I have to be in darkness.

Louis: No, you have to be seen.

Yovan: It’s true that it’s important for people to see me, so I ask you, is it also important to have drawings of me? You have to choose.

Louis: Good question, let’s have violin playing at some point, it’d be a good thing.

Yovan: OK, certainly to have a violin on stage add something to the performance.

Louis: You have to assume this fact.

Yovan: Here, we are on something different, you’re taken in by the images, there’s live music, now, these moments of violin playing works well, they provide some breathing space. Then, it’s always good for the audience to see an instrumentalist playing on stage, it’s more pleasant than to have him in the dark. It’s little by little as you go along that you realize what’s needed in the performance.

 

Yovan:
We wrote the funding proposal based on these ideas, and afterwards obviously it was realized a bit differently. Before submitting the proposal to AADN, Louis had asked me to compose a piece – given that it was just a project of which I knew a little the concept, but I didn’t really know much more – in relation to the specifications we’d set for the music on the proposal, I tried to create a piece a bit like that. I had started on an “instrument” based on some sample of African drumming, and it had at the end created a little piece. It was just a question of having a little bit of music, and after that it completely changed. This sample of African drumming was reused in the spectacle – it was the first segment I did – just when she flies over the forest at the beginning. After that I composed the intro piece with the sounds of birds and of the forest, because it’s when Delphine presents the forest.

Louis:
To be honest, I was not expecting that he would use his voice. You should know that Yovan is currently a singer: it’s practically all that what he does now. Yovan plays the violin live, but his voice is recorded, because he used it by superposition of his own voice to produce a choir effect, he records himself on a fair number of things. When I heard what he first sent me, I thought that it was not at all what I wanted, but in the end, I love it. In effect, this has nothing to do with the traditional music of the future, that’s not what he does.

 

Yovan Girard, 4 mai 2023 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Yovan, 2023, May 4th (photo Valentin Bisschop).

 

25. Music and Storytelling, Delphine and Yovan

Yovan:
Then Delphine came along, and once she had put the story into words, it was a matter of finding the moments where I would have space for music. I asked Delphine to record her voice, so that I could listen to what she was telling.

Delphine:
So, I sent a recording to everyone, and they listened to it at home over and over again. With Yovan, we created things together, and we were lucky because we got on really well straight away. He pre-recorded music on what he’d heard from me, and we both tried things out together to see how it fit. There were things he’d done that didn’t fit. Because once I was telling the story for real, it didn’t work. I had sent him the text, but when it came to telling the story, it was another matter. He had to change, and to do a lot of work in adapting the music to a storyteller.

Yovan:
Delphine is the one who influenced the most the final sound result, because I listen to the way she tells the story.

 

Scene: Delphine and Yovan.

Yovan: Hey! there, it would be good to cut a little. There, I suggest cutting the narration and putting some music there instead. Here, during your talking, it would be good to have a little music behind it to provide some rhythm.

Delphine: I like the fact that you bring a music that also gives me a rhythm. It helps me, it creates a mood, and a rhythm too.

Yovan: The easiest thing for me to do is to find the rhythm as a function of your text. Often you and Louis are really focused on writing the tale, while I am more concerned with the rhythm [he knocks regular strokes on the table with his hand], like that… like that… The rhythm of the performance: when telling the story, doesn’t matter how long it takes, is there any rhythm?

Delphine: You have to wonder if it isn’t a bit boring at certain moments?

Yovan: Yes. In two of the compositions, I play violin. It’s really a question of two moments: one is improvised during the walking sequence [la balade], I wrote something simple, something that I determined by playing, that I’ve developed by improvising and that now I try to keep all the time. It’s all to do with the rhythm of the performance.

Delphine: I think you agree with our taking into account together the variations that we might make.

Yovan: Yes, I agree completely.

Delphine: If you hear me say something which has the same meaning as what I usually say, but not with the same words, there’s always a silence indicating that I’ve finished, then you throw on the music.

Yovan: I will try to do something that follows what you’re telling, and then I’ll see what I can play live as we go along.

Delphine: Yeah, I try to respect what you do, we juggle together in reciprocity. It’s mutual, but it’s more me adapting to you, but it’s still you who has also to do it with me.

Yovan: Right on cue, when you say that, paf! I throw on the music, paf! you say that.

Delphine: Except that I don’t know the text by heart.

Yovan: At exactly that moment, when you say that, a silence follows, we have to frame that.

Delphine: I am a storyteller! How do you expect me to remember that?

Yovan: We also have to find noise effects because they are needed at certain points.

Delphine: They must be in synchrony between you and me. For example, at one point, there’s a talisman that falls to the ground, it tumbles down 4 or 5 steps, then it stops magnetized on a book. We must be exactly together, it’s really a precise sound effect. But then, it’s easy to achieve in the sense that I know that from the moment I start unwrapping what I say about the talisman that she has in her pocket, that she feels in her pocket, it falls to the ground, here we go! you trigger it. She searches with her hand in her pocket, and you know that you have to send the noise effect..

Yovan: The noise effects are sometimes fabricated: for example, at one point there’s an electronic firefly, it’s necessarily a cliché. I had in mind a sound in Star Wars where you had a sort of butterfly on Tatooine, a sort of flying character. I remember the noise of the wings, so I tried to retrieve it – as Louis loves Star Wars, he might know the reference – it was not obvious to achieve a good result.

 

26. Music and Storytelling, Louis and Yovan

Louis:
It’s not because the music is written that it’s completely fixed, there are many moments when he plays loops, and he produces a certain amount of noises to correspond to the action on stage.

Yovan:
Later, we found other solutions: for example, against a wall, an acoustic wall with holes (there are plenty of little squares in the walls), so we put our fingers in them, “Brrrrrrrrrrr”, it sounded a bit like wing noises, a sort of electronic firefly noise. I made this sort of sounds. Otherwise, I went on Spice where there are sound samples, the Sonotec, and interesting stuff like that. The sounds that we used were often nature sounds, and then it depended on the situations. At some point, there is a story of a snap hook, when she hooks herself on a cable, you have to find a snap hook sound. When you can’t find this online, you have to fabricate it, it’s another type of work. At another moment in the piece, there are the lightning hunters who start to sing, it’s really what the text says, so I wrote a song a bit like a pseudo-Gregorian chant, it’s not really that, but it’s something kind of epic.

 

Scene 1: Delphine, Louis and Yovan.

Yovan: Well, there, that lacks noise effects, you’ve got to hear the lightning.

Louis: You need to have noise effects, but you should have them before the lighting.

Yovan: As Delphine sees the lightning hunters, they are already behind her, they are coming. Hey! It would be good if, on the lightning hunters for example, as she tells something, not to have any music, and while she is speaking, the music will come back little by little.

Delphine: In fact, shortly after, I stop talking for two minutes and let the music play on.

Yovan: The music continues while the hunt is going on. You have to find ways to divide her text in sections to insert musical pieces in between or to treat the text as a musical element. That way, we are in complete agreement, and it works well.

 

Yovan:
I also sing a little, I use it for having choirs in my compositions (by re-recording my voice) or just a single voice, but I don’t pretend to be a singer.

 

Scene 2: Delphine, Louis and Yovan

Louis: Why not having the audience sing along?

Yovan: Yeah, but at that point, aren’t we going to lose something? In fact, you will look up and see the hunters rushing off, and I find that this part is good as it is.

Delphine: Louis and I, we would like to have the audience sing along.

Yovan: Come on! You’ll have to find another way to do it, at another time in the spectacle.

 

Yovan:
For me it was far too many ideas, this is what was difficult, in any case at the beginning, to figure out what to do with them. It was because Louis’ role was to imagine things, it was really a good thing, because the universe he wanted to develop is very interesting, but then, he brings along so many things in addition to the scenario, the idea of talking about ecology, the drawings, the storyteller, the music, the live music, several instruments (etc.), that you have simply to make some choices at a certain point.

 

Scene 3: Louis and Yovan.

Yovan: Well, here, it might be interesting that for a given time she tells the story, and there it might be interesting to have a musical interlude while she is walking.

Louis: We can try to imagine those moments.

Yovan: So that I could have at least something on which I could rely.

 

Yovan:
So, things are coming together little by little because we had to think about everything, it was for all of us our first spectacle, we hadn’t given it much thought. Louis had the concepts, but he didn’t have all the keys of this ambitious project. But it’s a good thing, because we learned lots of things along the way, we discovered the world of noise effects, and so on.

 

27. Yovan’s Ideas on Music and Maxime’s Ideas on Drawings

Yovan:
I knew Maxime a little before. I’d not seen much of his drawings, but I knew he was working in architecture. I also knew him through Louis’ Live Drawing Project. Maxime’s drawings straight away create an atmosphere, a little like a giant graphic novel, that’s what I appreciate a lot. The question is then to decide how much storytelling, how much music, how many drawings to put in. Because once you’ve put the drawings in, some say: “Well, there should be more of that” and others say: “There should be less of that, because you’re not looking at the storyteller.” It was very ambitious, because there is so much stuff, that’s the normal way of making a spectacle. I didn’t see the drawings until the residencies because Louis receives the drawings, and he has to adapt their format for projecting them in the specific space. Then, sometimes I thought: “Hey, it would be nice to have something like you have in the scenography of an electro concert where such and such an image appears during the music, that is in some particular timing.” In the end, it turned into “cues”: “There, I throw this music when a drawing appears, it would be nice if we were immediately in a new atmosphere.” There are few “beeps” like that. Personally, I’d have liked to have more communication, but well, it does communicate a little anyway, but I think we could go even further with it in the future.

Maxime:
What I like in the “Tale of a Common Future”, and what I find extremely astonishing, it’s really the hybrid construction of the project. In fact, we never intrude on each other’s work, and that’s the way Louis built the team. It’s him who comes up with a story that he builds up as he goes along, with enough information to enable us to invent things. Sometimes, when he gives us information, I have the impression that he hasn’t really the image in his head. So, I say to myself: “OK, I don’t know where I am going, but I’ll show you something and we’ll see.” So, I think it’s the same with Yovan and Delphine, where we bring our ideas, and then, in the exchange, the things evolve slightly, and Louis is still very flexible about what he wants. In other words, he knows the essence of what he wants, but he doesn’t need to control the form of what he wants. At times, I took him where he hadn’t planned to go, but he said: “OK, it’s in line with my story.” I think he did a good job of linking us up, and we were each able to have our own “corridor” (in quotation marks) of expression, which added up without being in each other’s way, going from strength to strength. That’s what I like in this project, we each work a bit in our own corner, me at my desk, Yovan, I don’t know where, Delphine, I imagine, on her computer to write texts, and at the end, we add up, and this makes the thing even better.

Yovan:
The format of the composition was a bit like electronic music, with the repetitive aspect that can be found in techno, in electro music, but with a musical idea, and so, there is often a repetitive beat. The direction I took was to start with something based on an organic instrument or something like that, for example a Chinese instrument that resembles a banjo. In short, it was starting off with a traditional music instrument and then having at the same time that electronic aspect. I knew in any case that the pieces couldn’t be too long because we soon realized that when Delphine was telling the story, and in relation to all the worlds that Louis wanted to explore, it would be impossible to linger. During the week I was composing on my own, I thought: “Hey, it would be good to have these three pieces, simply because afterwards I won’t have the time to do the rest before the first residency when I am supposed to have written it all. I’m not going to linger on each composition, and eventually as there’s a very repetitive side to it, it’s something that I can develop along the way.”

Maxime:
For me, Louis is at the center of the project, therefore I had fewer interactions with the others, but that wasn’t necessarily a problem. I think that the music fits in very well with the drawings and I think Louis gave good indications. I didn’t get the sounds much in advance, so I can’t say that the sounds have influenced my way of drawing, and I don’t know to what extent Yovan was influenced by the drawings that I sent to the group.

Yovan:
With Maxime’s drawings, at some point in the performance there is question of velocity, there was a bicycle ride. I looked at Maxime’s images and said: “There, it would be good if we could create an electro night ambiance, where the sound system gradually builds up: at the beginning there is the kick drum and the bass, and then little by little things are added. I saw in these images something of this kind, and it influenced me to propose this idea.

Maxime:
I think that certain drawings imply that the music is very present at certain characteristic moments: at some point, the story takes place in the clouds, it was quite clear what you had to represent for the audience. So, I drew clouds and lightning, and Yovan made sounds of lightning and after that, he added a melody, I did it in my graphic manner and he did it with sounds and we ended up at the same place. Then, there is a walk in the forest, and it’s the same thing: I can see what I have to draw as a forest, and he can see also what we expect from a forest. The question that we both have to answer is the same, and we come up with a result that’s more or less in good synchrony.

Yovan:
I try to introduce musical elements, samples, or songs: at one point there’s a Greek song, at another one there is a kind of Chinese cithara, for each segment of music I try to think this way, mixing acoustic instruments with electronics. It’s fairly free anyway, my basic premise quickly turned into something else, as I really think in terms of sound illustration of what Delphine is saying. When she presents a specific universe, I try to stick to it, as in theatre or film music, to illustrate the storytelling. The music shouldn’t in this case take over, and at the same time you can have moments of music without narration, so that you feel like: “Well, here we have a moment when you can listen to the music with drawings, that’s nice”, something like that. It’s a question really of not just considering the coherence of using a scale or a concept, but of saying to yourself: “Well, we have to find a balance between these different moments of narration and music.”

Maxime:
I had very few direct exchanges with Yovan, we didn’t need to. I could call him, no worries, but we didn’t need to do it. While with Delphine, there were more exchanges.

Yovan:
Basically, I’ve got my frame, a Cubase session. I have the impression that somehow it’s my performance frame. I write down the performance frame on paper, it’s really like a setlist, it’s written in big letters to be able to see it on stage. It’s written on a discreet piece of paper, I’ve got all the main features in this setlist. It’s an automatization of events, but the problem is that each time we change location, sometimes we are in 7.1 and sometimes in 4.1, I have to change things. With my automations, you’ll have, for example, the sound in the middle, here you’ll be on the far right, there at the middle, at the left middle side, there on the far left, and so on. With the rain for example, there are other noise effects, I put them on the left… All this introduction, here [he plays a short extract], I double it on Sequential OB-6 (an analogue synthesizer), because once it’s in the loudspeakers, it lacks analog presence. There are things that I only do on the keyboard, where you have only noise effects [he plays another extract]. I touch the diverse keys to trigger different segments or sound effects, it’s really a mess, I know more or less how to find my way around: I am going there, then I know that I have to go down to trigger the noise effects..

 

28. The Tale and Drawings, Delphine, Maxime and Louis

Scene 1: Delphine, Louis and Maxime.

Louis: Listen, Maxime, you’ve got to draw me a forest, let’s go, with animals in the forest, and then you’ve got to draw me clouds, you’ve got to draw…”

Maxime: Oh! yes, there, when Delphine says that, I need to add this. Then there, I must absolutely draw the machine at the end. And I must do a control panel.

Louis: There, you should have bubbles to aggregate to an underwater cable.

Delphine: I think of these bubbles as living spaces.

Maxime: I drew bubbles with coral around them.

Delphine: But I don’t understand, why is there coral around them? Then what did you put inside them? The bubbles are the workplaces for the coral, we have to agree on what we’re saying, we have to tell the same thing, you with the drawings, and me with the text.

Maxime: It doesn’t mean that we have to say and show the same things at the same time.

Delphine: Yes. If you draw that, well then, I won’t tell it, we won’t do twice the same thing. And that makes it easier for me because I already say a lot. Draw the hunters, the lightning, you have to do it, we have to see them, even if I mention them in the text.

Maxime: We are all the time debating: what should be illustrated, and what shouldn’t?

Delphine: In storytelling, usually, nothing is visually illustrated, there are no drawings, what I’m telling is left to the imagination of the audience.

Louis: I want people to retain a measure of imagination, I don’t want them to be given everything, The tale should still be based on imagination.

Delphine: If we start by throwing everything at them in the drawings, then I don’t serve any purpose, I won’t speak anymore, it’s a story in drawings. People still need to be able to imagine things. So, we’re always trying to reach a compromise on what we should illustrate.

Maxime: Sometimes I wonder: “Oh! I didn’t draw that, it’s a shame, I would have like to do it.”

Delphine: Yeah!

Louis: Yeah! but the more you present drawings, the more people want them.

Delphine: You see, it’s not easy to reach a compromise. What should be in drawings? What should be left to the audience’s imagination?

Maxime: So, there are a lot of things that are not in the drawings.

 

Delphine Descombin, 4 mai 2023 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Delphine, 2023, May 4th (photo Valentin Bisschop).

 

Scene 2: Delphine and Maxime. During a residency.

Delphine: Louis asked me to say at this precise moment: “Big white bubbles”.

Maxime: We decide on a signal, “beep”, so that the drawing appears when you say that. Beep!

Delphine:
[She turns her back to the screen]
“Big white bubbles floating on water and in the air”
[She turns around and see that the bubbles are black!]

Maxime: OK, you are sticking to the text!

Delphine: Not at all! I have to respect what was agreed with Louis, I’m not going to come to the performance and say something completely different from what we decided. And sometimes I have to stick to the music, because sometimes Yovan is waiting for me, he knows there is a beep, I know there’s a beep, I’ve got to go there. So yes, I still have to respect a text, but sometimes I can vary, I don’t have to use the same words all the time, I can add things, I can modulate. But there are things that I absolutely have to respect because I’m not on my own. We are three in the story, in fact four.

 

Projection 4 mai 2023 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Projection, 2023, May 4th (photo AADN).

 

Scene 3: Delphine and Maxime

Maxime: Delphine, at the start, you sent me five minutes of the text of the piece, and I made drawings based on this. But there were other parts for which you hadn’t really written anything, and I was ahead with my drawings.

Delphine: In this case, I was inspired by the drawings for small details in the narration as a hook, that sort of thing.

Maxime: At some point there is a town, and it’s not easy to describe a town if you can’t visualize it, so I think it helped you to see my drawing.

Delphine: That way I was able to add little details to the story.

Maxime: I have to draw a road, Camille is coming on that road on a bicycle, and she says that she has to avoid the roots. No luck I have no narrative roots! I can’t draw your roots, instead I’ll draw a hen. You will have to change your text a little. At another moment, there is a ship with barrels, with baskets, moving down, things like that, and I think that as you haven’t yet written the text and as I’ve done the drawing, you can directly base your descriptions on it.

Delphine: For the city, you must have patios.

Maxime: It’s better to talk about passageways or things like that. There is the need to readapt the vocabulary in this way.

 

Maxime:
My drawings are part of the background sets, they often support the narrative, but often the narration and the drawings don’t say the same thing. So, Delphine will spend a lot of time describing the actions that are going to happen and finally, she will not need to describe the sets since it would be redundant. So, when you arrive at an amphitheater, she will say “Here we are, we are in an amphitheater.” But finally, it didn’t really constrain me in what I should draw. And then, since the amphitheater appears, people see it, and she does not need to describe it precisely anymore, she will immediately tell what’s happening in this amphitheater. Because we also chose not to visually represent the heroine of the spectacle and to represent only very few characters, except when it was visually pretty strong or if it helped to take away certain ambiguities. At the beginning, we almost wanted to have none of the characters represented, but we realize that it was too strict a rule, that there was no reason to be so hard on ourselves in imposing it, and that wasn’t that important, you could have drawings of characters. So really, Delphine and I, we work side by side, and the result is an amplification that adds without ever lowering the quality, we are in our own rails without impeding each other.
 
For example, at some point a giant woman appears, so I made a giant drawing. It’s visually quite beautiful because when we’re under a dome, I can really make a very tall character. And it works very well because in this case, the storyteller ends up personifying the heroine who is small. I like this ambiguity, I don’t know to what extent it was basically intended, as the storyteller is supposed to be the narrator. But inevitably there are times when I think that the public perceives her as the main character, as she sometimes speaks on behalf of the heroine. I think that’s also the role of a storyteller: personifying all the characters and being at the same time the narrator. The fact that there are not many characters, the fact of not representing the main character, creates a situation where the audience doesn’t know whether the storyteller is the main character or the narrator, when in fact she is both at the same time, playing with this ambiguity. I don’t know to what extent it’s assumed by Louis, but it’s fine with me.
 
We discussed the idea whether or not we should show the characters. We tested the giant figure with the audience, and we got good feedback. At one point we removed it, and we thought it was less effective, we liked it when she appeared.

 

29. Sonorization

Yovan:
Usually, we play with a sound engineer, and we work on this aspect of sonorization. In Nantes, for example, we had an excellent sound engineer, the balance was made over one week, we worked every day on it. When in certain residencies, we are told at the last minute, “you may use this space, but there is no sound engineer.” Delphine can be tense because we are running out of time before the premiere, then the sound is not very good. The balance between Delphine’s voice and the music is essential; if it’s not right, it can bring prejudice to the performance. So, we worked a lot on that.

Delphine:
Before the Tale of the Common Future, my voice had never been amplified. The guitarist I performed with had an acoustic guitar. Amplification has a very odd and surprising effect on me, and it changed my relationship with the public: I can speak very softly, I can whisper, it depends also on the quality of the amplification, which was very good when we had a good sound engineer, and very bad at other times.

Yovan :
The problem is that every time we change space and equipment, and we don’t have a sound engineer attached to the group who knows in two minutes what to do, we have to adapt. But when there is a good sound engineer, I have been helped a lot, particularly in learning to use Dante for mixing in 7.1, it’s a digital sound card, which is generally integrated on the mixing boards of the sound engineers nowadays, and which means you don’t need to have a sound card in your computer, but you can go through an ethernet wire, and have your balance done directly according to the place. With Dante, you can communicate with the mixing board. So, I come with my 7.1 configuration, and I just trigger it, and if I come to a new place which has also Dante but is in 4, because there are only 4 loudspeakers, then, I just have to change my configuration, I don’t even need to do a balance. So, it’s very useful, but in all the residencies, we had this system only twice, unfortunately, there are lot of places that don’t have Dante. I have my digital sound card installed in my computer in order to be able to do the balance when they don’t have Dante. In any case, every time, you have to pull your hair out for at least one day of technical sound preparation, and also the night, before you can start working on the spectacle.

Delphine :
It can be a real pain if the amplification is not good, because I think that there’s something intimate about this spectacle. If my microphone works well, I don’t need to speak loudly, which is for me an effort because I tend to have a lot of energy.

Louis:
She isn’t yet used to speaking in a microphone, it’s often a technical problem of audio return, she doesn’t hear herself well, it’s a problem of sonorization, she has to hear herself as well as the audience does. Clearly, it’s not exactly the same situation as in tradition of storytelling. If people from the tale-telling world come to see the performance, they might think it’s not a tale at all, because in a tale you never show any images, there’s rarely any music, and generally it’s one person alone telling a story to a public. There is no distancing between the storyteller and the audience, so, the microphone creates a distance, but it’s not the same situation. I think that there’s a certain distance that takes place, but it operates in two ways: on the one hand, when she tells the story, she distances herself from the public, on the other hand, after that, she comes back very strongly towards them when she comes to ask them questions.

Yovan:
With each residency you have to adapt your system, with electronics there’s always issues. Often, you don’t know why, only two loudspeakers worked out of four, then finally we have them, OK. You have to take care of the image and the sound. When there’s no sound engineer and there are all these noise effects that usually go through 8 loudspeakers, but suddenly you have only four of them, it’s not the same settings. So, I have three configurations, I have 5 points, 4 points and 7 points, and each time I have to readjust. With respect to noise effects, there are two or three pieces where I made what we call Stems, [30] that is I separated the bass from the drums, the chords, and the voices, to mix them a little together. You can have the bass located here, and the drum set there, to make it more immersive. In fact, it didn’t like it on all the pieces, because sometimes it was not easy to understand, I preferred having a source coming out in stereo, with the noise effects behind, otherwise I thought it was too scattered. It’s the sound engineer who initiated me to Dante who knew all about that. He tried to remix my pieces, I sent him the Stems of my pieces.

Delphine:
When we played the piece in Paris, Marie-France Marbach came to see me at the end and said: “Listen, you have to get some voice training, you can’t go on like this.” Since then, I’ve been doing a training course in Lyon with a lady, Mireille Antoine, qui est extra. Une dame avec un charisme incroyable et en même temps une grande humilité. Ellwho is extra. A lady with incredible charisma and at the same time a great humility. She makes me work on my voice which tends to be too forceful. The voice is actually a very intimate thing, so she immediately sees a bit of what I told you before about myself. She says to me: “Well, you do everything forcefully, you’re a warrior, you’ve built everything up, your identity is your strength, you’ve put in so much support, you’ve put up a shield, to make sure that you’ll never be vulnerable again. So, we will have to break down the walls, so that your voice comes from the belly so as not to block emotion.” Because you your own emotions are not what matter, it’s the audience that you want to get carried away. And it’s also dangerous for me to give it all, I’m hurting myself. And it might be unpleasant for the audience too because it’s not on them to carry this burden. So, it takes some work to place your voice and also to put some distance from what you’re saying, to let the voice resonate and not to get carried away. It’s an intense work, but very interesting.

Yovan:
For example, once, a sound engineer said to Delphine: “You’re speaking far too loud in your mike, you don’t need to do that.” She is used to speaking acoustically, so, he turned her mike down and she was more careful. When she is stressed, she tends to speak louder, and then, sometimes the music is too loud in relation to the voice, that’s something I can control. In Nantes, everything went well, we had a good rhythm, a full week to rehearse each scene, so, we found a balance that worked better. Sometimes you realize that in such and such place you are less at ease, that’s the nature of live performance. That’s the way it is.

Delphine:
I tend to speak loudly, so I really have to make an effort to keeping my voice down. It’s true that with the presence of a sound engineer, you give up part of the responsibility, in the sense that if my voice sounds through amplification like a carpet dealer, it might quickly be perceived as someone selling detergents on the market. In this case, there is nothing I can do about it, no matter how softly I speak, or try to put more music in my voice, this type of sound will remain. If the sound is rotten, however you may try to “na na na,” nothing can be done.

 

30. Communication with Notion [31]

Maxime:
We use Notion, a software that shares things between several participants. For example, Louis tells me: “Well, there, with Delphine, we have written a text. She has to clean up a text and she puts it on Notion, that’s the link.” So, I click on it, and I see that, effectively, she’s updated it a day before and that’s the last version of the text. If a week later I have to take up the text, it’s possible that she’s changed it. In this way, I have the updated version, it allows me to be always working on the last version.

Delphine:
With Louis, the good thing is that we communicate with Notion software, I can write on it, and he can have immediate access to it. Sometimes when I have questions, I write and then call him, saying: “Look at what I have done. What do you think of it?”

Yovan:
Louis uses Notion to communicate a series of resources, texts that inspired me, particularly about biocracy. We talked about that together. You have to ask Louis about biocracy because it’s a concept that inspired him a lot, especially concerning the major lawsuits included in the piece, that allow nature, a river, a tree, to have the same rights as human beings and therefore to be able to sue a company like Total. This concept is interesting and corresponds well to the Tale idea of human beings reconnecting with nature. He put lots of resources on this on Notion.

Maxime:
I have all my drawings on computer, and I share them with Louis on Dropbox. That way I know if Louis likes them – because I don’t necessarily know that – but there is a little notification to that effect. When I’ve put up a new drawing, I call him, I am proud of myself.

 

Scene 1: Maxime and Louis.

Maxime: Listen, frankly, I worked hard, I’ve made three new drawings.

Louis: Yes I know, I saw the Dropbox notification the day before yesterday.

Maxime: Ah! yes, OK.

Louis: Yes, I looked at them, it’s fine, perfect! OK!

 

Maxime:
And then, in the way we work, it’s true that Louis and I, we like participatory tools, participatory software, so he made some sorts of to-do list that we can both consult, each of us saying to ourselves: “Ah! I’ll mark this, so he will see that I’ve done it”. I think that these tools improve things significantly. Then, I still like the informal chat over the telephone, to talk about this and that, where we can go much further into things. I think there are elements of messages that are important, mostly when I send drawings in progress in order to have feedback before I finish them. Messages are very useful when they tell me what direction to take or give me the chance to diverge from common meaning. I would rather use the chat like that to balance my contents and to confirm the feedback if everything goes well. What’s more, when we are more in the prospective phases, with Louis, we usually go to see or call each other. I think that when we don’t know something, it’s not enough to be on WhatsApp, on a chat group to make a project. That means seeing each other at certain times. On the other hand, there’s a huge amount of working time that’s done on one’s own. So, it’s very much a hybrid thing, there are important points for discussions, and then, there are all the individual times.

Yovan:
In fact, I’ve found that, in the groups I play with, they often say: “Well, we’re not on Messenger, we’re not on WhatsApp, we’re on Signal, it’s better”. So, I receive a lot of links, and they tell me: “It’s true, we don’t go on that sort of stuff anymore.” Notion is interesting, yes, Louis likes all these ways of communication, I haven’t been on it that much, but that’s the place where we send each other things and where you can see what has been changed. I think there are plenty of interesting resources, but for me it’s a question of time. If there’d been a year with less things to do, I would have had more time to go on it. And then, since we’re already talking about it, and I just need few elements to write the music, I just have to think about it.

Maxime:
In terms of software, it’s really only Notion, WhatsApp and then, Dropbox. And concerning the forms of discussion, it’s really going to be either the WhatsApp group, or me calling Louis or sometimes Delphine for the tale, but less so because it’s mainly Louis who is in contact with her. It’s really Louis who is mastering the flow of things with everyone. So, when we call him, he can pass on the information, he is mostly at the center and things revolve around him. That’s why we call him “the creator” who kind of pilots everything. He doesn’t write, there is no visible content, even though he creates the content and sets my drawings in motion.

 

31. Residencies: LabLab, Chevagny, Vaulx-en-Velin, Enghien-les-Bains.

Louis:
I plan the residencies down practically to the minute: this morning we talk about that, then everybody introduces themselves, then we take a break, we go for a walk together, then we come back, then we work on the beginning of the tale, etc. This I do for practically all the residencies, what’s going to happen hour by hour. And this was very useful to us many times when you find yourself lost in things, you are in the thick of things, you are doing things, and suddenly you’ve got a blank page, you don’t know what to say or what to do anymore. So, you tell yourself: “Ah! well, we’d planned a walk in the forest,” hop, well forest walk it is, then. I had ideas like that: the fact of walking in the forest, since at the beginning of the story, it takes place in a forest, I wanted to take them up in the trees, do some acrobranching and sleep in the trees, but I never did it. Here, I found one of these schedules:

 

10h-11h am : Presentation of our universe.
11h-noon: Presentation of the project.
Noon-1h30 pm: Lunch.
1h30-3h: Free exploration of tomorrow’s world, where are we going?
3h-5h: And above all with whom?
5h-5:30h: The day in review, what are we going to do tomorrow?
If we don’t know what to do: tomorrow, touring the village, to talk together.

 

Let’s talk now about the writing residencies, I call them “emerging residencies.” First, on January 6 and 7, 2022. Then we met again on May 5 and 6, 2022. We did a music residency with Yovan and me on January 27, 2022, that finished with a Visio-conference with the four of us. Then we did an “unfolding the tale” on June 23 and 24, 2022 with everybody.

Then, we had the “unfolding the tale” residency on June 23 and 24, 2022. This residency was again at the LabLab in Lyon. We used this place a lot. All four were present. Here is the pre-established schedule:

 

10h. am: Presentation of the state of progress of the narrative plot and feedback; presentation of music and feedback, presentation of drawings and feedback, presentation of Live Drawing and feedback.
11h30: Identifying contact zones between music and drawings, between storytelling and public participation.
Noon: Lunch.
1h pm: Installation, set-up drawing projections and music.
1:30h: First scene.
3:30h: Second scene.
4:30h: Pause.
5h: Third scene.

 

It was a bit ambitious, I don’t know if we were successful in fulfilling this schedule. After that, 6:30 pm, it’s the end. And then comes Friday:

 

9h. am: Feedback on Day 1.
10h.: Scene 0, which was the welcoming of the public, we gave a lot of thinking to how we were going to welcome the audience, because that was really part of the immersion and to showing how to use the tools, to explain how it was going to happen.
11h.: Go-through scenes 1, 2, and 3.
1h. pm: Public presentation.

 

At the end of the residency, we’d do a small public presentation, and then after some feedback, we were supposed to work a little more before everyone would leave. Except that we didn’t do anything after the performance, we were exhausted. So, I thought that we should never work anymore after a performance.

In August 2022, we did our first real residency, where at the end the totality of the Tale was going to be presented. It was part of the festival « Chevagny Passions » [32], thanks to Antipode and Chevagny-Passions. For the first time we were paid. We spent one day with Antipode, and at the beginning, on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I worked with Delphine only, and Friday Yovan arrived, and we worked all three together. And we played Saturday once, and twice Sunday. And we managed to produce a performance with over 20 minutes of the piece. We get super positive feedback from the audience, for each of the three performances we perform in front of about 60 to 80 people.

Maxime:
We did a first residency without a dome at Chevagny-sur-Guye, during which we had tested the idea of having drawings with a storyteller, with sound, and with an audience that had reacted quite favorably to the participation tool. Finally, there are the four of us, plus the participatory tool that brings the public into the story

Louis:
The performances took place in the church, I recuperated our video projector that we have with Live Drawing, which enabled us to cover the totality of the back wall of the church. All the church’s benches were taken out, and replaced by reclining chairs, poufs, carpets. We were highly welcome.
 
The planning helps me because it makes me feel more secure. Let’s just say that it allows me not to get lost, and since after all I am the leader of a team, it’s better not to have any blanks. I know that I shouldn’t come and just say: “Ah! well, I don’t know what we are going to do.” I know that it would destabilize them, it wouldn’t please them.
 
It works, and we’re happy, and it’s just one month before the Vaux-en-Velin Planetarium residency, for which we have two weeks of work to do. The aim was to produce a 30-minute performance up to the scene with the “Great Council.” It was the first time that the visuals were adapted for a dome, and that took an enormous amount of time. The music was adapted for sound spatialization and we moved on with the storyline by finishing the “hunt for lightnings”, creating “the city” and “the Great Council”. Also, we discussed the budget and the planning of the pedagogical interventions that we decided to implement.

Maxime:
Each time we have to adapt to a place, because if you change the performance space, you change the screen size, so it’s possible that certain drawings will get a bit squashed or an element of the drawing gets too magnified, or is too far to the side. Sometimes, when under a dome, you can see images behind you. Sometimes the public is all facing the same direction, that’s fine, but at other times people are all facing the center of the space. For example, at one point, people have to look at two pathways and have to decide if you should take the path to the right or the one to the left. But as people are facing each other, in fact, for some people the path on the right is the one on the left, or such nonsense. Fortunately, a stage manager of a space had warned us, he was in Paris and told us: “Be careful, this image will not work.” So, I made a white arrow on the right-side panel, and a black arrow on the left-side panel, and then, we could say: “OK, you take the black arrow, or you take the white one.” So, there are lots of things like that which can vary.

Louis:
The next residency was 10 days at the Enghien-les-Bains “Centre des arts”.

Maxime:
The time spent in residency is super because it’s when you really discover what the others have been doing. Yovan rarely sent us the sounds he had prepared in advance, so I discovered them during the residencies. I bring most of my drawings, and I might take a tracing paper to redraw an element that’ll then be superimposed to the drawing. I come to the residency with my pencils in case something happens. I use Photoshop software to edit images in most cases, but sometimes I am obliged to do it by hand. When I show a drawing, there is generally not much feedback, everyone seems happy with it. But Delphine said to me once:

Delphine:
Yes, your drawing is fine, but in fact, it lacks flowers. You are a bit sad here, you should add some flowers.

Maxime:
OK, you’re right, I am with you, it doesn’t suit me but… you’re right, I’m going to add flowers.
 
So, I drew lots of flowers so as to be able to take them one by one and afterwards integrate them into the drawing. And it’s better, a lot better, however it took me a while but… Now that we are almost at the end of it, I’ve got a list of alterations like that to be done on different drawings, where I need to add flowers, to remove some trees, that sort of thing.
 
Once the performance starts, I haven’t got much to do, because my drawings are already done, it’s Louis who is in charge of the animation. So roughly speaking, I’m in charge of the public participation part (people who are going to draw and all that), but I can also take care of the lighting. We did run through the piece together, someone helped me, she said: “You see, there, you turn it on, there you turn it off.” It had to make sense in terms of the story and so the storyteller was sometimes in the foreground, because she should be enhanced in front of the drawings; at other times, on the contrary, you have to turn her off so that the drawings can really take over all the viewer’s attention. That’s an interesting aspect that I discovered, I think it enriches the performance to be able to increase or decrease the presence of the storyteller.

 

 
Maxime Hurdequint, drawings' exposition, 18 juin 2023, CDA d'Enghien-Les-Bains 1/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Maxime Hurdequint, drawings' exposition, 18 juin 2023, CDA d'Enghien-Les-Bains 2/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)  
 
Maxime Hurdequint, drawings' exposition, 18 juin 2023, CDA d'Enghien-Les-Bains 3/3 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Children looking at Maxime’s drawings, 2023, June 18th,
CDA d’Enghien-Les-Bains (photo Nicolas Sidoroff).

 

 

32. Public Participation

Louis:
Then there was of the interaction with the audience that was important, how to use what already exists, what you’ve already mastered, in order to have the public participate. And so, it was basic, it wasn’t just for them to do things like creating the set, but to really pass on ideas through drawing. In the Live Drawing, you ask people questions, so as to provide them with subject matters for drawing, and then they do it. And in fact, we’ve found that to get people to start drawing, you have to be very simple, then afterwards, you can go super far, and they follow you, and produce incredible things. When I was in the process of creating the “Tale”, I always thought that the Live Drawing events could help me to find ways of involving the public in the tale, for example by proposing drawing themes such as: how do you see the transport of the future, how do you see things?

Maxime:
There is the question of the wall that exists between the scene and the public and how we can try to partially break it. In our case, I have the impression that the wall does not exist, but I realize that a small filter remains, a transparency paper, something in between, anyway there is a screen. When we started to experiment with digital applications, we saw a lot of things that depended on a single remote control, you had queues of 50 people waiting to access the technological tool. We thought Live Drawing was a good idea because this time it was really participatory, it was everyone doing things at the same time. So, on the one hand, we still had a thin wall, since we used telephones, but at least the thing was accessible to all. We pushed that idea because that’s what the festivals expected of us. They told us: “What we liked about it is the fact that everyone is doing things at the same time, last year we had 50 people waiting to access things, it was very frustrating for everybody.” So, we thought: “Ah! Banco!” There is still a limit because it’s anonymous: the people draw, and they can sit on a sofa, drawing in their own corner, or drawing eventually for the screen on the wall in Live Drawing, making drawings that aren’t interesting, that we feel obliged to delete without knowing who did it. By and large, that way, we break the wall since everyone is proactive in the work, and at the same time there’s still a bit of a filter in the sense that people are anonymous, and so, not completely assuming responsibility for their acts. And at the same time, that’s what freed them too, as I said to them: “Let’s go, in any case if you are going to do a rotten drawing, no one will know that’s you who did it, you’ll not have to show it to your son next to you, he won’t know, and at least you’ll have tried.”

Louis:
Concerning public participation and Live Drawing, I went back and forth with Maxime Touroute and Rémi Dupanloup. In the meantime, we did another project called “La Bulle du personnel” (the staff bubble), which was an institutional project for a hospital where we wanted to make a wall of interactive postcards. So, we spent a lot of time working on that idea of postcard. Maxime and Rémi who developed this project, used Live Drawing, and added new elements within it, in particular the possibility of inserting a text. So, I thought: “Yes, it would be very interesting if people could write instead of just using the Live Drawing.” I have adapted my desires for public participation according to the tools available to me. I couldn’t change, starting from scrap, because I had too many constraints, but all the same, I succeeded in getting people to write texts on basic things, notably on the big laws of the future.

Delphine:
I don’t feel far removed from the people in the audience because, after all, I ask them their advice. I feel the presence of the public, I know who is there. Because we help them to connect, we ask them if they are comfortably seated. Then, when I ask them their advice whether we should take the path on the right or the one on the left, I often take the time to say: “Do you all agree? Anyone disagree?” With almost no visible effort, I want to weave this relationship.

Louis:
The aim of this project isn’t necessarily centered on getting the public participating as such, but on projecting them into a desirable future and getting them to reflect on it. And to get them thinking about it, I propose they participate during the performance to engage them in this process. To achieve this, I use a system of gradually increasing participation:

a) Before the beginning of the performance, they draw stars on their smartphone to introduce them to the situation.
b) Then, they see their own stars appear on the wall, so they understand that what they’re doing with their phone is going to play a role in the story.

 

Tale's beginning, 4 mai 2023 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Tale’s beginning, 2023, May 4th (photo Valentin Bisschop).

 

c) Next, I have them draw the rain, it’s the same principle, but here they see that their image is animated and interacting with the plot.
d) And then, they choose a pathway, so now, they are really participating by saying yes or no, a simple choice that will determine the evolution of the story.
e) And after that, we ask them questions live, for example saying to them: “Here we are, in the world of the future, what do we do about people who don’t respect the rules?” Here you’re already starting to have a more in-depth interaction, and above all, this will make them think about potential conflicts, like how to behave in the future regarding someone who doesn’t respect the rules, how it might happen in a desirable future (we make this clear again and again) especially when we are in presence of students who want to hang people.
f) Then, after the Great Council, they have to write the laws – this is what was closest to my heart and that’s what I try to preserve – we ask them to write a law that could today help us to achieve this desirable future.

Maxime:
With the “Tale of the Common Future”, we went a little further by asking people to participate in a real debate, by addressing the audience directly saying: “Here, what do we do, how should we continue the story, go ahead and propose something to us.” The time is quite structured in the sense that there is a period when the audience has to assimilate what the story is about, then there are open times where they’re on their anonymous telephones, and there is at least one period where we even turn the lights bock in the hall on to have a debate. This means that the separating wall between the scene and the public constantly goes up and down, there are several layers, but you can’t say that it’s completely removed.

Louis :
And I think that the Great Council, when we explain Biocracy, and when we get them involved, that’s really at the heart of what I wanted to do. In effect, we could do more, and we could do it differently, but in any case, I think that if they manage to think of a law within the framework of our present democratic society, in France, if you can imagine finding a law to make the world better, it means that you’re not going to have a violent revolution, but rather a more benevolent revolution. That’s really something that motivates me, and I want to show people that the system has certainly its faults, but solutions can be found within this system allowing us to succeed in evolving in a positive manner.

Delphine:
Even if the smartphone is bait for teenagers, because when we say to the kids they’re going to be able to draw on their phone, they say: “Ah! Really?”, they want to go and see the performance. Amazing! But in fact, they don’t do much on it, they draw the rain. At the end of the Nantes performance, a lady came to me and told me: “Hey! It’s a bit like cheating, your use of the phones, it’s a bit like trying to catch young people, because nobody chooses anything in your story.” I said “yes,” because I wasn’t going to contradict her, she’d seen it all.

Maxime:
We have to be careful about how we communicate our spectacle, because if we over-sell the participatory side, rather than the storytelling, the audience might be disappointed. At the beginning we sold the spectacle a bit by saying: “It’s a video game, you are active in shaping the story” and all that. I don’t know, it seems that it’s not a video game, where people at any moment take a joystick and move things around. We thought we mustn’t advertise that idea too much, because the people might be disappointed, we’ll sell them something that’s not representing what we’re doing. When we start a creation, you have a lot of ambitions, and once you’ve created something, you need to realize that in spite of liking what you have done, it does not correspond to the original ambition. You need to rewrite it to match what you want to do. So, we’ve been working a lot on this participatory side of things, but now it’s more just one of the ingredients, rather than the founding element of the spectacle.

On the question of a possible contradiction in the relationships with the audience between the intimate nature of storytelling and the technologies used in the performance, what’s interesting is to really tackle the problem in reverse order. In the call for Immersive projects, a lot of applicants submitted things based on technologies, their lines of thought didn’t really leave the computer. The fact of introducing a tale meant bringing an archaic element into the extremely technological world of digital arts. We proposed something non-technological, and it’s the same for the drawings which are done by hand. So, it’s not so much that we’ve “digitalized” the tale and the drawings, but it’s more that we’ve made the digital arts more human. In any case, I wasn’t expecting that, but the people who supported us said: “That’s what we appreciated in your application, it’s the fact that you bring together universes that we didn’t think could cohabit.” It was Louis’ intuition to update the digital arts by showing that they can be applied in so many different ways. It’s true that in the “Tale of a Common Future,” we are in a tension, because we want to tell a story and at the same time, we want to get the audience participating. So, it’s a delicate balance to achieve, it’s super sensitive. There’s a balance where we could perhaps open up the public participation more, and at the same time, once we have decided to have a story, you necessarily go more or less from point A to point B, where in any case you don’t have 10,000 entries. It closes a bit the question of participation.

 

33. The Artistic and Cultural Education Residency at Hennebont.
Louis, Delphine and Maxime

Louis :
Another form of participation was experimented with the Hennebont (Brittany) residency in schools, it was a EAC, “Education Artistique et Culturelle – Affaires Culturelles” (Artistic and Cultural Education – Cultural Affairs), [33] which lasted ten days in primary and secondary schools. We both worked almost eight hours a day during this period in many different classes. Public participation took another form of temporality: with the “Tale of the Common Future,” the public is only present for an hour, so it’s clear that people potentially will have less time to reflect than the primary and secondary school students, who work with this artistic project during one year, who are also supervised by the teachers who speak about it before I arrive. It means that when it’s well done, as in Hennebont, when our arrival. If it’s well done, as in Hennebont, they will have spent already four months of classes to reflect on the subject in different courses, in any case in visual arts. For four months they think about it, and then, I add another layer. I ask the students: “What would you like in the future concerning your habitat, what would you like as transportation, as the means of moving about?” Then I tell them, “We’ve thought about that,” and I show some elements of the Tale of the future, saying: “Well, we thought that it should be like this or that, but you, how do you see it?” And in general, it obviously raises their thinking, because you show something upon which they can reflect. The two situations of participation, performing in front of an audience and teaching in school, are just as important to me. Maybe the students in school think about it more, but it’s really a question of timing.

Delphine:
We did that residency in Hennebont with primary and secondary schools, they’d been drawing things that were then projected during the performance. To link all this to our spectacle, I briefly summarize the story of the performance we’re going to present them. In any case, at the beginning, there’s a general presentation by Louis and me.

 

Scene 1: Delphine and Louis. Presentation for the students.

Louis: Here you are, we have a performance called “Tale of a Common Future.”

Delphine: We imagine a future that will be desirable, na-na-na-na…

Louis: You are going to work on storytelling with Delphine, then you will do digital work with me.

 

Delphine:
After that, both of us, we decide, depending on the situations and on the classes, our line, our objective, what we expect from them to do at the end of the day: do we want them to tell a story, or to produce something?

Louis:
With the SES classes (Economic and Social Sciences classes) I worked on the organization modes for future collective decision making, what economic models, what types of commercial and diplomatic exchanges between communities, what types of work and employment. In all my interventions, I speak of how people will live, in what kind of habitat in the future (especially with the youngest students), how they’ll get around, how they’ll be transported from one place to another. I am interested in Artificial Intelligence, so I spoke quite a bit about images generated by AI, which wasn’t really related to the Tale project, but which gave me a kick at that moment.

Delphine:
With one of the classes, we produced court cases. They were in small groups, they could use their phone, not to go where they usually go, but to go to research tools looking for court cases. So, you needed a victim, a culprit, and a trial, a cause. There some very well dressed were girls who came for the case to sue Zara, H&M and ASOS, great! I said to them: “You can tell all your friends”. They found out (and I learned that from them) that it was the Uighurs in China who make all these fashion clothes in extreme poverty, and everybody here buys them. “Me, you see, I buy clothes on Vinted and there’s loads of clothes to buy, amazing! [Muttered:] In fact everyone buys their clothes there. [Normal voice:] It’s very cheap”. So, they’ve discovered that, and I think it’s great that kids in small groups search on their phones, because it’s a tool they have at all times. All of them have a phone, when we say: “Take your phone out”, not one of them says: “But I don’t have a phone.” They never went to search this kind of things on their phones, they are just on social networks, they are not going to use it for anything else.

Louis:
At certain moments we would be together, Delphine and me, in front of a class, but most of the time we were alone. We had very short interventions, the longest ones lasted three hours. I was going back and forth: I stayed for a week and went back to Lyon, six hours by train, then I went back there for two days during which we did five performances, a crazy marathon. Yovan joined us at that point. During these performances, I included all the drawings the students had made.

Delphine:
Artistic education is very interesting to me. With the primary school children, all I did was to tell them stories, because that’s what they wanted. I tried to take the basic features of the spectacle. They did also some drawings, they love drawings. In fact, they are not told stories very often. I started by asking them: “If you had to make big court cases for making a better world tomorrow, what would they be? What can you imagine?”

Louis:
The students had essentially to draw things. The teachers had worked very hard on the whole thing, on the avatars of the future, their habitat, they already started to describe their huts, their things, etc. So, the students drew their habitat of the future, their characters of the future, etc., and I integrated them into Maxime’s drawings. This was an enormous amount of work! I’ll never do that again! It took me ten hours of clipping, I don’t know how many thousands of drawings, it was unbearable. Well, “unbearable,” it wasn’t unbearable, but it really exhausted me. Afterwards, it enabled me to recalibrate my interventions, by saying to myself: “Ah! only one drawing per class!”.

Delphine:
So, we had this whole discussion about the death penalty, it was terrible! They were all for the death penalty. It’s complicated, isn’t it! So, we spent a whole session discussing that. Nowadays, you don’t talk about the death penalty any more at school, the teachers told me that they didn’t do that anymore. Me, at school, I got a lot of flak about the death penalty. We talked a lot about it, we read texts, “na-na-na-na-na-na”, Victor Hugo, “ta-ta-ti ta-ta-ta”. Now, you don’t talk about the death penalty, so the kids listen to television programs.

 

Scene 2: in the classroom with Delphine.

Student 1: I saw on television, there was a guy who said that a girl had been raped, and that he, the culprit, should be hanged.

Student 2: He’s right.

Student 3: Yes, he’s right.

Other students: He’s right!

Student 4: Some are going to jail, it’s useless, they are too happy in jail.

Delphine: Ah! how do you know that he is happy in jail? Have you been to jail?

Student 4: No, but I mean, in jail he has food, beverages, shelter.

Delphine: And you, what if you were accused of raping someone, but it wasn’t you who did it, but everyone says that it was you, and you went to prison?

Student 4: Oh, no! not me, it couldn’t happen to me!

Delphine: Oh! Yeah?

Student 4: No.

Delphine: It can’t happen to you, it only happens to other people!

Student 5: It’s no big deal if it happens to others.

 

Delphine:
At the same time, the teachers afterwards told me that it was actually good to talk about it, because it’s something they keep to themselves. They don’t say anything to anyone, they’re sure of themselves, they’re certain of their little conceptions. So, as a result of discussing it, it gets things moving. It is difficult to tackle this, because you must not judge what they say either, it’s an open forum, a space where you are free to speak. And so, there are some gems in what is said, like: “No, but they should stop at the iPhone X, and after that they should stop making them.” I said: “Yes, OK!”
 
The fact that I didn’t like high school, that I was on the margins, means that I don’t have any a priori ideas about the students. It’s almost those at the margin that sometimes I find the most interesting. Because I don’t have a great self-esteem, I don’t have prejudgments as sometimes intellectuals do with respect to the ones who can’t make it. And I want to keep it that way. What I got from the circus, is the position of the body: first of all, we have to sit down, to put our feet down on the floor, we all have the backs straight and we are there all together. We’re not like that [she shows a slumped body position], if anyone really wants to stay like that, no big deal. But I mean, we are here, present with our body, and then there’s the work on breathing, on keeping straight, of sending what you want to say where you want to say it – [whispered] because if you talk like that, no-one understands anything – [normal voice] and this is also useful for them at school when they have their oral exam, they’ll know how to speak. There is a discussion, at first you just say their first name, and then ask if any of them are very embarrassed to speak in public. Because some are hyper embarrassed to speak. And then there are those who aren’t at all embarrassed, they should not be allowed to talk all the time, and have the others saying nothing, you have to manage that aspect, and then set some rules. From the onset, I set rules: don’t make fun of anyone here, you have the right to say whatever you wish, it will not go out of the classroom, it will stay between us. You can discuss things, but you are not there to say anything out of the blue, it’s a space of freedom, you respect others, no mockery, I can’t bear it. It was the circus that brought me this attitude that involves a lot of bodywork, and also, storytelling where working the body is related to speaking. And then I tell them stories and ask them what they think. Obviously, I’m not going to tell the same stories to teenagers as to primary school children.
 
We worked with the partners, the teachers. For example, we worked with a Spanish teacher. We had the students in a circle, and we looked for words in Spanish to imagine for example the Propel Stretch. So, I explained to them what it was, and then they started looking for words in the dictionary, they had a ball. I don’t know any Spanish, so they tried to pronounce things and then I would say: “How do you say that? This one I don’t know.” The kids were trying to say it. And the teacher said to me: “The Spanish classes have never been as beneficial as they were today.” Because it was another way to do it, they had to look for a vocabulary for future habitats in Spanish. Everything is possible, in fact.

Maxime:
There was a residency at Hennebont with high school students, I wasn’t there, so I think that must have had an influence on the writing, because Louis came back and told me: “They came up with some incredible ideas, it gave us many leads.” So, it may have orientated the story a little bit, but also, they made a lot of drawings. And this didn’t match up with my practice, because you have to remember that drawing is a solitary practice, that is done prior to being able to work with others. I don’t think that musicians are as solitary because there are the rehearsal times for rehearsals; it’s true, there’s personal time for practicing, but I think that the something collective happens more often. I work on my own before bringing new building blocks to the collective team.

 

34. The Residencies (continued): Paris, Nantes.

Louis:
The next residency was in Paris, at the Cité des Sciences. It was a five-day residency, and I only made a plan for the first day:

 

9h.am: Installation
10h.: Internet test
11h.: Video test
Noon: Lighting test
1h. pm: Lunch

 

Oh! yes, then there was Emilie Baillard, who is a stage director; I asked her to take an external look at Delphine’s movements on stage. She came and, in the end, we realized that a complete residency would have been necessary, and she was only there only for one day with us, while we were doing many other things. In Paris we added roughly between three and four minutes more.

 

Scene 1: Delphine and Louis

Louis: Well! we’ve got to move on, hop!

Delphine: Yes, let’s go.

Louis: Now, we have to get a bit moving, because it’s hot right now, we haven’t managed to make much headway since the last time, we’ve got to finish the story for Nantes. It’s our last residency as part of the Call for immersive projects AADN.

Delphine: We could meet before going to Nantes.

Louis: So, we should meet for two more two-day writing residencies in Lyon.

Delphine: I can come to Lyon, since I am taking some classes. We can try to write the end of the story.

 

Louis:
In Nantes, Yovan, Delphine and I are present all the time. And there, the days weren’t very precisely organized, although as usual I’d drawn up a more or less complete schedule. And there we effectively run through the entire tale from beginning to end, because we arrived at the end of it. The two last days we have two public presentations, on Thursday evening and Friday evening, presenting the spectacle in its entirety even if we still are missing some drawings, even if Delphine reads her text. Maybe I didn’t mention this up to now – I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say it now – but what needs emphasizing is the enormous amount of work Delphine has done. In Nantes, the work days didn’t end at 6 p.m., they ended much later in the evening. Many times, Delphine and Yovan are both working together while I’m struggling with the drawings, so, I don’t have time to do things with them. What’s really great about Yovan, as a musician, is that he’s got a sense of rhythm, so he can say to Delphine:

Yovan :
There, you see when I play this, you have to say that.

Louis:
He goes back-and-forth a lot with Delphine, a lot of times they have to coordinate their actions:

Yovan :
Ah! no, that’s it! Exactly!

Louis:
And so, they go through the piece together. During the rehearsals, I often work on drawings that have nothing to do with what they are doing. Often, I work alone, many times when I have to adjust things, it doesn’t work, I redo it, it doesn’t work, I redo it… it doesn’t work! After a while finally it does work.

 

Louis Clément, poste de travil en résidence (Conte d'un futur commun)  
Louis Clément, poste de travail en performance (Conte d'un futur commun)
Louis’ working station during the performance, residency (2023, May 3rd), show (2024, May 31st),
(photos Nicolas Sidoroff).

Louis :
From time to time, I call Maxime. And I have also to take care of all the rest. I do the animation of the drawings, the video, all the public participation part, I fix each time what’s going to appear on the smartphones, what’s going to appear on the screen, all the changes it implies, because it continuously changes as it goes along, you have to change the questions addressed to the audience, you have to change the interface, etc. There are many things to change while it’s going on with Live Drawing that I now know very well. And I’m also in charge of lighting. That’s a lot of things to do, I’m in charge of the technical side, I have also to take care of Yovan’s sound when something doesn’t work. Well, he looks at things, he does things, but generally it’s me who gets my hands dirty.

Yovan:
Louis is also helping out, otherwise it wouldn’t work. Now we know that for such a performance, you need someone permanently in charge of these technical aspects of sound and music, basically it’s not too much to ask. In this project, there were lots of things to be learned at the same time, frankly, that’s what was interesting to me. Each time you say to yourself: “Ah! there, it didn’t work!”, there is that big challenge. It takes one day to fix things and then you get back to the rhythm of the performance. In fact, every time, you have to familiarize yourself with the place, once you are comfortable in that place, that you have your sound balance, everything will fly.

Louis:
And at the end I find myself alone to de-install, while Yovan repacked his gear, it’s for me to put things back in order, but I’m used to it, it’s the role of the stage manager at the beginning and at the end, after everyone’s gone.

Yovan:
We really worked together as a trio because the story was still being written as we went along, it wasn’t a situation like: “So, here we are, I’ve written this text, now deal with it.” At the beginning, I proceeded in this manner with Delphine’s text, by composing the music to it. This was a good way to go, but after a while it was necessary to meet. The residencies were the occasion to work together, especially in Nantes where the text wasn’t completely written yet. Delphine didn’t send me anything prior to that residency because Louis had some ideas, but they had to agree together on what was really going to happen. Louis isn’t a writer, he’s not an author, but he was responsible for the concept of the spectacle, and he needed Delphine to put the story into words. And since I had also not decided on the music, I said: “I prefer to compose along with you.” So, for the end of the piece, I worked with them when we were in Nantes, making the noise effects with them. And when they’d ask me: “Look, right here, it would be good to have a moment of music,” I knew quickly how to produce something that would be rewritten later at home. That way, we were able to get well acquainted with each other. Louis’ project was very ambitious from the start, because he had a lot of ideas that you had to sort out. Now that we know each other, we know what works effectively, and for a possible next project, we will know what not to do, it’ll save time.

Louis:
So, we’re super happy at the end of the Nantes residency, because we succeeded in putting something together, and we’re very happy with the public feedback.

 

Scene 2: after the performance in Nantes
Delphine, Louis, Amandine’s friend, someone from the public

A person from the public: I am super happy to have come because it makes us to want to do things, we can see that it’s possible to change things and gives us the incentive to do it.

Louis: That’s exactly what I wanted, so I’m very happy.

Amandine’s friend: It was super. I tried to get colleagues from work to come along to the performance, but they thought it was too ecologist.

Delphine: Oh! well, how do they know it’s an eco-thing?

Amandine’s friend: You’ve seen the publicity?

Delphine: I’m the one who wrote the publicity notice.

Louis: Here is the text: “This spectacle is a participatory journey into a desirable future, an immersive tale, with a storyteller, with the audience contributing to the story with digital tools, discussions, and reflections. This work creates a space conductive to addressing social issues that concern us today: injustice, ecology, and war.”

Delphine: If only war had been mentioned, they might have come! I don’t think the publicity notice is so easy to write.

Amandine’s friend: For someone who is not ecologist, yes, it doesn’t seem eco, but for someone who isn’t…

Delphine: All right. At the same time, I don’t understand how today, in our time, you can’t be concerned by ecology. I don’t understand that you can say you don’t give a damn about it! I’m appalled by people who say “Oh! another ecologist thing!” Have you seen how we live? Have you seen what about to fall on our heads? So, do you have children? Even if you don’t have children! You love animals? You love flowers? How can you be so indifferent to that? It seems really complicated, it seems to me crazy. And if they think it’s leftist, I’ve been anarchist for a long time, so OK, I’m in a left-wing spectacle. Well, it’s true that it’s the rich people who pollute the most the earth! Delusions of luxury, there! And the more you dig, the more you… Concerning bees, the lobbyists present falsified arguments: “No, no, no, pesticides are not at all bad for bees, no worries.” Everyone knows it’s false, that it’s just a question of dough, and in fact they continue to use pesticides against bees, they screw everything.

 

35. Ecology, Delphine

Delphine:
Today, after all, I might be bourgeois in relation to what I was before, and maybe I’m not “all eco”. That’s clear. But I try to do what I can. It’s true, I think the very rich are on another level: it’s all about rocket competitions, huge boats, it’s everyday taking a plane. It stinks. I think that already you could do a little more, you could stop using the pesticides a little. You’d just do a bit, and that would be already quite a lot. I denounce Total during the performance. In Uganda and in Tanzania, it’s terrible, they screw everything up. Tanzania, it’s a paradise on earth, there are giraffes, elephants, “prrrrrroo, gray, grog, track, trock, pail.” Some people rebel, they are locked in the dark for six months. And Macron supports. And everyone supports that, BNP Paribas finances, come on but where’s the problem guys? It’s awful. It’s awful, but it’s going on. But there are people who denounce it, I learnt that from watching the television show “Investigation gizmo”: a blond girl, very short hair, doing Tintin investigations, I don’t know how to say that, is it written somewhere? [noises of page turning] In short, anyway, there’re are journalists who denounce the status quo, things are happening. I think things will change, at least I hope.
 
The problem is that the rich couldn’t care less. They want to continue to live in luxury and are so afraid of losing all their money. Why? It’s crazy. You’re not asking them to live on subsistence allowance, and go sweep the street pavements, as we’re asking the unemployed nowadays. Yeah, it’s true, I come from a very low-class background, I come from no-dough, maybe I have this empathy or this understanding of other people who don’t have that, because they were born into luxury and they don’t understand that if one day they don’t have that anymore, it still will be OK, it can be a beautiful life without all that. You almost want to give these people a hug: “It’s going to be all right, don’t worry!”
 
I’ve discovered some incredible architects, like Ferdinand Ludwig. We looked for examples of architecture, like vernacular architecture, it’s all premises that are built with trees and plants. I didn’t completely agree with this. Maxime and I talked a lot about it, because for me, if you make buildings with trees, they have to be rooted in the ground, and often with the buildings you see, the trees are in plant pots. As someone who loves trees and reads a lot, I know that trees communicate through their roots, so you miss it if you do that: they can’t communicate. The trees protect themselves from certain illnesses through the roots, by the mycelium, they send information if there are animals or insects attacking them. One tree communicates: “Quickly, protect yourself!” then, it dies, but not the ones next to it. So, I think it’s a pity to put them in pots. In any case, I think you will be obliged to put plants, vegetation in cities, otherwise too many people will die. It’s obvious.

 

Tale in the middle, 4 mai 2023 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Tale in the middle, 2023, May 4th (photo Valentin Bisschop).

 

36. Conclusion

Louis:
My team was formed by people who are actually good at what they do, otherwise I wouldn’t have worked with them. So, from there, if they propose something, I assume that it’s good, that they know better than I do what’s good, because that’s their job. It’s the same with Yovan, I don’t give him a hard time about the music, I am not going to tell him what to do… Oh! yes anyway, I do give him a bit of a hard time!

Yovan:
In this project, the people I work with had no strong requirements and trusted me, they let me be free to develop my own things. It allowed me to express myself and continue to evolve in that way. I could adapt the music to different situations, if it was too long or too short, I could decide what was working and what was not Then, sometimes, Louis and I didn’t agree, he would say: “Well, here I’d like to have more of that, you should play that live,” or things like that. But it was always expressed in order to find a common ground between us.

Louis:
I give them all a bit of a hard time, that’s kind of my role. I give my opinion, and then they follow my advice or not at all. Basically, I give the big directions. But overall, I leave them 100% free.

 

Final bow and thanks, 4 mai 2023 (Conte d'un futur commun)
Final bow and thanks, 2023, May 4th (photo Valentin Bisschop).

Maxime:
When I’m drawing, I still have that idea of going a bit against my architectural practice (and its long-time established nature). There’s maybe one, two or three sketches in black and white, which take I’d say two minutes to do, and then, when I hold one, I do a color sketch in maybe five minutes, and then, in general, I rarely go back to do it again. As I know that I have limited time, I don’t allow myself to do too much research. Fairly quickly, I say to myself: “Now, I have got a lot of drawings to do, let’s get on with it” and I like this sense of being instinctive. Not much tergiversations but going instinctively.

Yovan:
What I retain from the collective work is that even the negative makes you learn things. It’s pulling your hair at certain moments, but it was interesting in any case to work in a planetarium and all that. I rarely visited these kind of places, you don’t go there every day, I’m speaking for myself, but it’s interesting to see that they are very well equipped for sound and music (also visually speaking). And as a result, there’s a lot to be done, especially with digital arts, which is actually a fairly new practice. I have a good number of friends who are getting into digital arts, there’s so much going on with that. The phenomenon goes beyond the performances of digital artists, it’s something that’s developing nowadays in concerts of electronic music, even in rock and rap concerts, you are into textures, lighting, etc. I learned that in order to put together a performance that might last fifteen minutes, it’s going to be a lot of work. On the other hand, I think that the ideal would have been to have a maximum of things already laid down before the first residency, particularly in the writing of the story, so that afterwards, once we’re in the creative stage, we could go into as much detail as possible in rehearsals and into trimming things. We had not enough time to do that in relation to what was not going well, so as to air out the spectacle. Well, this is going to be useful for next time, but it was full of discoveries, and at the same time, discoveries of what could be better, but you have that in all projects in any case. So, frankly, for the most part there’s some positive aspects in every sense, and now here’s the spectacle, and we are hoping that it will go a bit on tour, so that we can continue to fine-tune it.

Delphine :
These are wonderful encounters, I‘m happy to have met all three of them. It was cool to be with them, it’s a team that really functions well. It’s particularly nice to be with them, because it’s not always certain that you’ll be able to work with anyone, that’s true, it’s not always that simple. Here we all get on really well, even at the level of creative collaboration.
 
I’ve now read my notes, it makes me laugh, this is not at all what I would say today. It’s funny.

 

 


The “Tale of a Common Future” was premiered on June 18, 2023, at the Centre des Arts in Enghien-les-Bains near Paris.

TheTale for a Common Future chooses to collectively explore a desirable future and the ways to achieve it. This is a participatory spectacle, with the audience using their smartphones and voices to take part in the story in the manner of a video game. The story is constructed as a collective improvisation, in which each participant can at any moment make it deviate or fork, jostle it, increase it, divert it.

Co-production: AADN –Arts & Cultures Numériques (Digital Arts and Culture) in Lyon, Vaulx-en-Velin Planetarium, Paris Planetarium of the “Cité des sciences et de l’industrie”, Stereolux, Nantes Planetarium, association Antipodes, “Pays d’Art et d’Histoire” between Cluny and Tournus.

With the support from the “Centre National du Cinéma et de l’image animée” and SACEM.

 


1. Marie-France Marbach is a storyteller, artistic director of the festival Contes Givrés, and glottis-trotter. Geo Jourdain is the president founder of the association Antipodes and an idea agitator. The Association Antipodes is directed by Geo Jourdain and Marie-France Marbach and is located in Saint-Marcelin-de-Cray (Burgundy). https://www.association-antipodes.fr

2. “François Pin is back in his role as president of the association La Carrière de Normandoux, where it all began, on the site he acquired on a whim in 2004 in Tercé, 20 km from Poitiers.” lejdd.fr/Culture/L-etonnante-carriere-de-Monsieur-Pin-

3. IRFA-Bourgogne is a training organization in existence in the Bourgogne Franche-Comté region for 35 years.

4. L’Atelier du Coin, in Montceau-les-Mines, is an insertion workshop work site. atelierducoin.org

5. Gus Circus of Saint Vallier, Fjep, circus school. koifaire.com

6. BIAC diploma: Brevet d’Initiation aux Arts du Cirque (Brevet for the Initiation to Circus Arts) a French diploma for teaching circus arts. See ffec.asso.fr

7. Nicole Durot. See « La Bulle verte »: in 2005, Nicole Durot created La Bulle verte, a circus school for valid and handicapped children and adults. labulleverte.com

8. It’s Laurent Fréchuret. The words that are attributed here to him are fictional. Laurent Fréchuret

9. Minuit: With a passion for architecture, Dorian aka Minuit Digital is a lighting and digital artist who likes to interweave physical and digital structures. Minuitt

10. Les Contes Givrés is a festival organised by the association Antipodes. association-antipodes.fr

11. In France, the architects who are the masters of the work are responsible for any damages to the building’s solidity or who render improper to its usage destination for ten years following the completion of the work. architectes.org

12. Ensemble Aleph, a contemporary music group based in Paris that exited from 1983 through 2022. ensemblealeph.com

13. Mapping: The video mapping is a visual animation projected on relief structures. fr.wikipedia.org

14. Maxime Touroute : maximetouroute.github.io

15. Theatre C2 at Torcy in Saône-et-Loire. 71210torcy.fr

16. Jacques Prévert, « L’Autruche », Contes pour enfants pas sages, , Illustrations by Laurent Moreau, Paris : Gallimard-jeunesse – Folio Cadet, les classiques N°8, 2018. artpoetique.fr

17. Débruit (Xavier Thomas): limitrophe-production.fr

18. « « KoKoKo! is a project born out of a film documenting the contemporary underground Kinshasa scene » limitrophe-production.fr

19. Julien Lagrange, guitarist, teaches guitar and workshop for handicap students at the EMDT of Cluny and vicinity (Saône-et-Loire). enclunisois.fr

20. Google : “With the 7.1 sound format, a rear center channel is generated in addition to these channels and distributed over two other speakers (called rear centers). This channel, coded in the stereo effects channels, makes it easier to localize effects and music signals directly behind the seated position.” google.com

21. The Lablab is an artistic laboratory, which offers a research and creative space completely equipped for new audiovisual, immersive and interactive experiences. polepixel.fr

22. AADN (Arts & Cultures Numériques) Digital arts and culture association, created in Lyon in 2004, it carries artistic and cultural projects that shake up the imaginary landscape and arouse the desire of founding a sensible, solidary, and responsible post-digital society. Through experimentation and cooperation, it strives to build a new culture of being-together. aadn.org

23. Metaverse: The metaverse is a virtual world where humans, as avatars, interact with each other in a three-dimensional space that mimics reality. The metaverse is online, but it’s also three-dimensional and changeable. The Metaverse is the spatialized Net of the future. wikipedia.org

24. Baptiste Morizot is a French philosopher who teaches at the Aix-Marseille University. His research is on the relationships between humans and the rest of the living world. wikipedia.org

25. In French, Camille can be both the first name of a girl or of a boy.

26. Camille de Toledo is a French essayist and writer living in Berlin. He is a visual and video artist, and teaches at the ENSAV (La Cambre) in Brussel. wikipedia.org

27. Medlay is a hybrid media from concept for crafting a multimedia artefact to narrate a story and/or communicate an idea on the Web ranbureand.github.io

28. Resolume Wire is a modular node-based patching environment to create effects, mixers and video generators. resolume.com

29. Jacques Puech is a singer and cabrette player of traditional music from Massif Central in France, see La Novia. la-novia.fr

30. Stems : « What we call “Stems” are the different source tracks in your production project, grouped by sections. loreille.com

31. Notion is a productivity and note-taking web application developed by Notion Labs, Inc. It is an online only organizational tool on many different operating systems, with options for both free and paid subscriptions. It is based in San Francisco, California, United States. Wikipédia en.wikipedia.org

32. Chevagny Passions : an art festival that takes place every year at Chevagny-sur-Guye (Saône-et-Loire). fr.wikipedia.org

33. EAC, Ministry of Culture: “The aim of artistic and cultural education (EAC) is to encourage the participation of all children and young people in artistic and cultural life, through the acquisition of knowledge, a direct relationship with works of art, encounters with artists and cultural professionals, and artistic or cultural practice.” » culture.gouv.fr

Vincent-Raphaël Carinola et Jean Geoffroy

La contribution de Vincent-Raphaël Carinola et Jean-Geoffroy est en deux parties. D’une part un article de recherche, « Espaces notationnels et œuvres interactives », initialement publié en anglais sous le titre “On Notational Spaces in Interactive Music”, by Vincent-Raphaël Carinola and Jean Geoffroy, dans les actes du colloque organisé par PRISM-CNRS à Marseille (en mai 2022). D’autre part la transcription d’une rencontre entre Vincent-Raphaël Carinola, Jean Geoffroy, Jean-Charles François et Nicolas Sidoroff qui a eu lieu en février 2023 à Lyon.

 

Accès aux deux parties et à leurs versions en anglais :

Première partie

Accès à l’article « Espaces notationnels et œuvres interactives »
Access to the original English version of “On Notational Spaces in Interactive Music”
 

Deuxième partie

Rencontre avec Carinola, Geoffroy, François, Sidoroff
Access to the English translation of « Encounter with Carinola, Geoffroy, François, Sidoroff »

 


 

Rencontre avec
Jean Geoffroy, Vincent-Raphaël Carinola
et
Jean-Charles François, Nicolas Sidoroff

1er février 2023

 

Sommaire :

1. Origines de la collaboration
2.1 Toucher Thérémine et Agencement
2.2 Toucher, l’exigence d’une corrélation mains/oreille
2.3 Toucher, notation
2.4 Toucher, la forme
2.5 Toucher, processus temporel de l’appropriation de la pièce
3.1 Virtual Rhizome, smartphones, hochet primitif, espaces virtuels
3.2 Virtual Rhizome, le chemin vers la virtuosité, l’écoute
3.3 Virtual Rhizome, une collaboration compositeur/interprète/réalisateur en informatique musicale
3.4 Virtual Rhizome, la « Partition »
3.5 En conclusion : Références à André Boucourechliev et John Cage
 


 

1. Origines de la collaboration

Jean-Charles
François
Peut-être, pour la première question, ce serait de retracer un peu l’histoire de votre rencontre, comment ça s’est passé, quel est le contexte de cette collaboration ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Carinola
Nous avions déjà travaillé avec Christophe Lebreton[1] sur différents projets et, bien qu’on se soit croisé souvent avec Jean et que je connaisse et admire son travail et ses différentes collaborations avec des compositeurs, j’attendais l’occasion de travailler avec lui. Le point de départ était les recherches qu’ils avaient faites, Christophe et Jean, sur les nouvelles lutheries et la place de l’interprète en lien avec elles, Jean pourra te faire l’historique de ces projets plus précisément.

Jean Geoffroy
Alors le travail avec les smartphones a commencé pour moi grâce à Christophe, et à un premier détournement des applications que j’avais réalisé pour les pièces de Xavier Garcia[2]. Avec Christophe on a créé en 2018 une structure qui s’appelle LiSiLoG dans laquelle nous développons toutes sortes de projets autour de l’innovation artistique et la transmission que l’on pourrait résumer à une phrase de Bram van Velde, un peintre dans un entretien avec Charles Juliet : « il faut donner une image jamais vue »[3]. C’est assez simple comme phrase, et pourtant si difficile à s’en approcher !

Lors d’un concert à Séoul, j’avais fait une sélection des applications en prenant en compte leurs cadres, possibilités sonores, leurs développements possibles et j’avais écrit une forme courte en guise d’introduction au concert dans lequel nous avions également joué d’autres pièces de Xavier.
Ce dont je me suis rendu compte presque immédiatement c’est qu’il était possible de recréer des espaces différents de ceux imaginés par Xavier, il était également possible de travailler sur une sorte « d’intimité sonore » car en effet il n’y a rien de « démonstratif » dans le jeu que l’on peut avoir avec un smartphone, il faut amener le public à entrer dans l’espace qu’on lui propose, et grâce aux différentes applications prise dans un autre sens et surtout utilisées de façon différentes, c’est comme si j’avais devant moi un nouvel instrument.

Dans ce cadre, tout part du son et de l’espace qu’il suggère, ensuite il faut une narration qui nous permettra de garder un cadre relativement clair car sans ce cadre nous risquerions de tourner rapidement en rond et jouer avec les smartphones comme un enfant avec son hochet…
Comme pour le Light Wall System[4] également créé par Christophe, le plus intéressant en dehors de la musique en elle-même, c’est la nécessité absolue d’un travail sur une narration, sur une forme, chose qui devrait être évidente pour tout interprète, mais que parfois on oublie au profit de l’instrument, sa virtuosité, sa place sur scène…
Avec les applications SmartFaust[5], il s’agissait avant tout de retrouver un son sans « artifices » qui nous permettrait de convoquer le public dans un univers sonore totalement revisité.

Ensuite après ce concert Christophe a eu l’idée d’aller plus loin dans ce travail avec les smartphones et donc c’est à ce moment qu’il a proposé à Vincent d’imaginer une pièce pour « Smart-Hand-Computers – SHC », terme qui représente mieux cette interface que le mot « smartphone » qui est avant tout utilisé pour nommer un téléphone.

Par contre dès le début, le processus a été différent qu’avec Xavier, ne serait que pour la création des sons, le fait d’avoir deux SHC totalement indépendants l’un de l’autre, avec une écriture intégrant des propositions aléatoires et surtout un travail sur l’écriture de la pièce elle-même en faisait un projet totalement différent de ce que j’avais fait auparavant. De plus cette pièce est pour nous (Christophe et moi) l’occasion d’imaginer d’autres cadres interprétatifs : nous avons une version solo avec un dispositif qui ressemble à celui du Light Wall System, et nous travaillons à une proposition pour deux danseurs. Virtual Rhizome de Vincent-Raphaël Carinola fonctionne vraiment comme un laboratoire permanent, qui nous incite à des relectures permanentes ce qui est essentiel pour un interprète. En effet ces trois propositions autour d’une même pièce questionne notre rapport au public : a) de l’intime en solo avec deux SHC ; b) dans une forme d’adresse au public dans le cadre du dispositif LWS ; et c) dans le cadre d’une pièce chorégraphique dans laquelle les danseurs seraient en même temps les interprètes de la musique qu’ils incarnent.
Cette pièce permet de requestionner l’acte interprétatif ce qui en soit est passionnant, question que l’on ne se pose pas assez en tant qu’interprète je trouve.

 

2.1 Toucher, Thérémine et Agencement

Jean-Charles
On peut peut-être séparer les deux pièces Toucher et Virtual Rhizome. Toucher implique le thérémine, mais d’après ce que je comprends ce n’est pas du tout le thérémine traditionnel où on est en train de contrôler les hauteurs et que si on veut faire des mélodies, il faut être extrêmement précis du point de vue de l’intonation. Donc c’est une situation différente et je me demandais en quoi cela implique un changement fondamental par rapport au jeu sur la percussion, et s’il y avait des problèmes particuliers sur ce changement de média, sur ce changement d’instrument ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Toucher, c’est une autre histoire. Là encore, le point de départ était la relation à l’interprète, dans ce cas Claudio Bettinelli[6]. Il avait un thérémine qu’on avait utilisé dans un spectacle intitulé Typhon[7]. C’est lui qui m’avait proposé de se servir du thérémine en le connectant à l’ordinateur, de l’utiliser comme une interface de contrôle de l’image et du son.

À la suite de cette première expérience on s’est demandé s’il ne serait pas intéressant d’écrire carrément une œuvre pour cet « instrument », sachant qu’à partir du moment où le thérémine est connecté à l’ordinateur, l’instrument n’est plus le thérémine (d’autant plus qu’on n’en entend jamais le son). L’instrument, c’est le thérémine connecté à l’ordinateur, à des sons et des modules de traitement sonore diffusés autour du public. C’est d’ailleurs en partie le sujet de l’article « Espaces notationnels et œuvres interactives » qu’on pourra trouver dans la présente édition : l’instrument devient un dispositif de jeu. Ce que nous considérons comme étant l’instrument, le thérémine, c’est juste une partie du dispositif, lequel est de fait le « vrai » instrument. Le thérémine possède des antennes qui captent les gestes de l’interprète, des lampes ou des circuits électroniques qui génèrent un son variant en fonction de la distance des mains par rapport aux antennes et, parfois, dans le même meuble, un haut-parleur. C’est comme les guitares électriques, il y a une sorte d’ampli, qui peut être plus ou moins près du musicien. Ce qui m’intéresse là-dedans, c’est qu’on peut dissocier les éléments organologiques de l’instrument pour faire de chaque composante un support d’écriture. L’interprète est alors confronté à une sorte d’objet éclaté dans un dispositif. L’interprète fait face, d’une part, avec un instrument très différent de l’instrument traditionnel, puisqu’il ne contrôle pas tout, il y a une partie des sons qui est générée par l’ordinateur — il joue donc d’un instrument qui a la capacité de fonctionner tout seul — et, d’autre part, il doit suivre une partition qui n’est pas entièrement constituée de la notation sur les portées. La partition inclut aussi le programme informatique, et contient les sons que j’ai fabriqués, intégrés dans la mémoire de l’ordinateur. Donc, la partition elle-même se trouve éclatée dans l’ensemble de supports : la partition graphique des gestes, celle des sons, le programme informatique, les programmes interactifs, et même le « mapping », c’est-à-dire la façon dont on va corréler l’interface aux sons et au déroulé de la pièce.

C’est pourquoi le travail de l’interprète est assez éloigné de celui de l’interprète qui a à faire avec un instrument avec lequel il fait corps, car, avec cet instrument nouveau qu’est le dispositif, le corps tend à être séparé de la production directe des sons. Une partie du fonctionnement de l’instrument lui échappe. Il ne contrôle pas toujours tous les sons (puisque c’est moi qui les ai fabriqués, ainsi que les modules de traitement). En plus, l’ordinateur peut avoir un fonctionnement automatique. C’est ça qui est intéressant, justement, parce que ça veut dire que la façon d’agencer l’interprète à ce dispositif-là devient en elle-même un objet de création, l’objet du travail de composition, c’est ça qui est très beau. On ne peut pas considérer l’interprète comme quelqu’un qui s’approprie une pièce fixée à un support, extérieure à lui, et qu’il vient ensuite interpréter : il fait partie de l’œuvre, il est une composante de cet ensemble « composé » des interfaces, de l’ordinateur, les sons fixés, lui, le musicien, sa présence corporelle sur scène, etc. On a le même type de problématique, mais abordée d’une façon très différente et très étrange avec Virtual Rhizome.

Voici la vidéo de la version de Toucher par Claudio Bettinelli :

Jean
Dans Toucher, Vincent a raison, il s’agit de faire espace et donc faire partie du dispositif qui lui-même nous échappe en partie. C’est une situation vraiment passionnante qui nous pousse à être en même temps interprète et « apprenant » le tout en temps réel, il s’agit de développer avant tout une certaine qualité d’écoute, qui n’est pas celle de l’attendue mais bien de la surprise. C’est ce que j’ai appris avec ces deux pièces, même si j’ai commencé par Virtual Rhizomes pour aller ensuite vers Toucher.
Le fait que la situation dans laquelle nous nous trouvons nous échappe en partie, car loin d’être confortable cette situation me perturbait vraiment. Ce projet m’a permis de me retrouver réellement au centre, avant tout comme « écoutant » avant d’être interprète. Cela oblige à une concentration, une attention à tous les événements sonores que nous générons ainsi que ceux que nous ne contrôlons pas forcément et que nous devons nous approprier et intégrer à notre « narration ».
Ce qui rend cette attitude plus sensible, c’est le fait que pour ces instruments tout parait simple car juste en relation avec un mouvement. Même si le Thérémine est extrêmement technique, chacun développe sa propre technique, attitude reliée à une forme d’écoute intérieure du son, écoute qui ne passe pas exclusivement par nos oreilles mais également par le corps.

Vincent-
Raphaël
En fait, ce qui est très compliqué pour moi avec les systèmes interactifs en général, c’est que, si tout est déterminé, c’est-à-dire si l’interprète peut contrôler chaque son que produit la machine, il devient une sorte « d’opérateur ». L’ordinateur ne prend pas d’initiatives, tout doit être déterminé par une logique conditionnelle : if-then-else. L’ordinateur est incapable de réagir ou de s’adapter au lieu, il ne fait que ce qu’on lui demande de faire avec une logique très… binaire. Tout ce qu’il fait, sa façon de réagir, est limité par les instructions prévues dans le programme. C’est pourquoi nous n’avons jamais la relation à l’instrument numérique qu’on a avec un instrument acoustique, où il y a une résistance, une contrainte physique, liées à la nature de l’instrument, laquelle structure les gestes et permet l’émergence d’une expression. C’est pourquoi l’idée de simuler un instrument qui échappe au contrôle du musicien oblige l’interprète à être dans une écoute très attentive, à l’affût à, littéralement, tendre l’écoute, la charger de tension. Je pense que si on veut — je ne sais pas si c’est possible—, si on veut arriver à trouver quelque chose d’équivalent à une expression – alors quand je dis « expression », ce n’est pas du tout l’expression romantique ou quelque chose comme ça, c’est quelque chose de propre au musicien sur scène, à l’interprète, quelque chose qui lui appartienne à lui ou à elle – on doit trouver des moyens nouveaux de la faire émerger dans l’interaction avec les dispositifs, c’est un peu ça l’idée d’inviter l’interprète à “tendre l’oreille”.

Jean
Je vais rajouter une toute petite chose : c’est que, tu parles de tension, en fait, elle est pour l’interprète et elle l’est aussi pour le public. Parce que, en fin de compte, il n’y a pas de gestes prévisibles dans le sens où lorsqu’un violoniste va prendre son archet, se rapprocher des cordes, tout le monde s’attend à ce qu’il y ait un son de violon, alors que devant un thérémine, même si on s’approche de l’antenne, on ne sait quand ni quel va être le son produit. De plus, avant de commencer réellement la pièce, j’avais proposé une introduction dans le silence, précisément pour que l’attention du public soit vers ce geste silencieux qui ensuite révélera un son inattendu. L’idée est de mettre le public dans cette situation d’écoute / recherche / attente… finalement le rendre « acteur » de ce moment artistique partagé. Effectivement, quelque chose se tend, se joue, à ce moment-là.

 

2.2 Toucher, l’exigence d’une corrélation mains/oreille

Jean-Charles
Dans l’article « Espaces notationnels et œuvres interactives », à ce sujet, est mentionné « corrélation mains/oreille d’une grande exigence »[8]. Quelle est l’exigence vis-à-vis de la main ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Nous pourrions dire que c’est l’exigence du sens que l’on donne au son et donc au mouvement de la main qui le produit, mais c’est aussi la structuration d’un espace que l’on dessine autour du thérémine, rendant possible une gestuelle ayant du sens en soi, une choréographie pourrait-on dire.
Il y a ensuite le travail d’interaction, sur quoi agit-on réellement, un volume, une forme sonore, quels sont les paramètres sur lesquels nous agissons ? À partir de là nous avons notre « aire de jeu » et la main peut s’y développer, tout d’abord de façon intuitive.

Jean
Avant tout, il y a un son, et la « réponse » que l’on doit proposer ; comment spontanément, intuitivement, mon corps ou mes mains vont interpréter ce son-là, lui donner une forme physique. Cela lui donne une consistance, une expression, une projection, qui sans le geste, ne serait pas du tout la même. Il est assez simple de faire cette expérience, prenez un son mécanique fait de « bip, bip, bip, bip », personne n’écoute et c’est inintéressant, si nous nous mettons à l’incarner, à lui donner une temporalité, une forme, un espace, cela change tout. C’est vraiment cela qui se joue dans la pièce Silence Must Be de Thierry de Mey[9]. À ce moment-là, la main, le geste, la présence, va donner une direction au son, va lui donner un sens qui à priori il n’a pas. Dans Toucher le rapport au son est autrement plus complexe, le geste doit à la fois produire le son et dans le même temps le dessiner dans l’espace. La version de Claudio est géniale de ce point de vue il y a une réelle chorégraphie du sonore, qui entraine une espèce de forme totalement folle en termes d’espace, de rapport à l’instrument. Finalement il s’agit de présence, celle du son et celle de l’interprète. Chaque interprète jouant la pièce devra réimaginer une forme pourtant écrite mais l’insérer dans un espace qu’il faut à chaque fois réinventer. Et c’est le propre de l’interprète de révéler ça par un geste, un mouvement, un arrêt, une suspension, quelque chose qui nous appartient. C’est à cet endroit-là que le geste incarne, en tout cas donne une incarnation entendue d’un son qui est immanent, en tout cas qui n’est pas produit concrètement par un souffle ou une frappe dont le résultat pourrait être prévisible.

Vincent-
Raphaël
Ça c’est vraiment le terme qui convient, à mon avis, le mieux : « immanent ». À la différence des instruments acoustiques, où pour obtenir un son il faut que tu appliques une force plus ou moins puissante selon le résultat recherché, avec Toucher — mais c’est aussi le cas avec Virtual Rhizome — tu as des instruments où c’est comme si la musique tournait en arrière-fond. On revient à ce que je disais tout à l’heure concernant l’automatique de l’instrument. Les matériaux sont là, le musicien ne les produit pas à proprement parler : les sons sont enregistrés, les modules sont fabriqués ou programmés, etc. C’est un peu comme si le rôle de la main était de fouiller et d’extraire le matériau d’une sorte de magma. C’est pour ça que cette référence à la musique immanente me plaît beaucoup. Le musicien cherche à l’intérieur de quelque chose qui est déjà là, pour en faire émerger certains points de vue. C’est évident dans certains passages de Toucher où il y énormément de couches et le fait que tu sois ici ou là par rapport aux antennes, ou que tu déplaces la main dans un sens ou dans un autre, ou d’un point à un autre, etc., c’est en quelque sorte comme si tu travaillais une matière, comme si tu étais en train de la sculpter. Comme tu le disais, chez Claudio, il y a quelque chose qui est dans la construction, dans l’évolution des choses : il va chercher un élément, puis un autre, et conduit ainsi le discours. Ce qui était assez nouveau pour moi et très étonnant dans la version qu’avait jouée Jean, c’est que Jean jonglait avec toutes ces matières. On avait l’impression d’un volcan en éruption, d’où émergeait un univers complètement éclaté, du magma, de la lave, de bouts de basalte… enfin, il y en avait de partout. Et ça, c’est une autre façon aussi de travailler la matière que j’aime beaucoup. Le travail de l’interprétation consiste aussi à faire corps d’une certaine manière avec ce dispositif, mais d’une façon qui n’est pas du tout la même qu’avec un instrument traditionnel où tout est déterminé par le mouvement du corps. Là, c’est un peu comme une rencontre entre deux logiques, la logique de la machine et la logique de l’interprète, et de cette rencontre émerge quelque chose de très intéressant.

 

2.3 Toucher, Notation

Jean-Charles
Comment fonctionne le rapport à la notation ?

Jean
C’est un sujet fondamental dans ce type d’aventure ! Et j’ai beaucoup appris sur cette question de l’écriture en montant Virtual Rhizome. Lorsque l’on est interprète, on est toujours à la recherche d’un cadre, d’une écriture artistique qui nous permette d’entrer dans la démarche du compositeur et rendre concret une œuvre écrite. Par rapport aux partitions, j’ai souvent été frustré. Soit c’est trop directif (trop d’injonctions, de signes, de notes qui parfois ne permettent pas une lecture singulière, trop occupé que nous sommes à faire tout ce qui est écrit) et dans ce cas-là on cherche l’espace pour l’interprète, on se dit : « Mais, comment vais-je respirer ? » Soit c’est extrêmement ouvert avec des tas de possibilités d’interprétation et d’approches. Je ne parle pas des mf, ralentis, accel. etc., mais des mots qui nous permettraient de réellement contextualiser une forme, un phrasé. Parfois, la place de l’interprète est réduite au minimum, voire, de temps en temps pas vraiment considérée par le compositeur. Ou bien, au contraire, on est dans quelque chose de très (trop) ouvert qui laisse une grande part à l’improvisation et moins à la forme, en tout cas moins en termes de récit, de narration. Ce qui est intéressant, c’est l’entre-deux, c’est-à-dire avoir quelque chose d’absolument écrit, d’absolument pensé – et ça on en reparlera pour Virtual Rhizome, mais c’est la même chose pour Toucher – mais qui laisse des espaces d’interaction à l’interprète.
La question au final est : doit-on jouer ce qui est écrit ou ce qu’on lit ?
Cette approche change énormément de choses. Il y a beaucoup de pièces où vous avez des notes de programmes, qui ressemblent plus à des modes d’emplois, parfois nécessaire mais cela devient problématique lorsqu’il n’y a rien côté !
Lorsque l’on lit Kontakte de Stockhausen même sans avoir lu la notice, on est capable d’entendre les énergies qu’il a écrit dans la partie électroacoustique. Dans Toucher, comme dans Virtual Rhizome, nous avons une structure très précise, et en même temps, suffisamment d’indications pour laisser une liberté d’écoute de l’interprète pour s’approprier la pièce, dans les proportions qui sont celles données par le compositeur. C’est vraiment cet alliage entre un son pressenti et un geste, équilibre instable… mais c’est la même chose chez Bach.
Il est essentiel à travers des pièces comme celles de Vincent d’avoir cette perception intime : qu’est-ce que j’ai envie de chanter, finalement, qu’est-ce que j’ai envie de faire entendre, qu’est-ce qui me plaît là-dedans ? Si on adopte exactement la même attitude derrière un marimba ou un violon ou un piano, l’interprète va vraiment réaliser quelque chose qui sera singulier et qui correspondra à une vraie appropriation du texte qu’il est en train de lire. Il s’agit de faire entendre et penser comme lorsque l’on entend la lecture d’un poème : ce qui sera intéressant ce sera la multiplication des interprétations du poème, chacune permettant au poème d’être toujours en devenir, bien vivant. C’est exactement la même chose pour la musique.

Vincent-
Raphaël
Ici, à la différence d’une notation classique, toute l’information n’est pas sur la partition. Je sais que cela ne l’a jamais été, qu’il y a de codes historiques, comme l’ornementation, qui n’étaient pas toujours notés. Avec ces œuvres-là c’est d’autant plus vrai que, comme on le disait tout à l’heure, il y a une partie de l’instrument qui a un fonctionnement autonome. L’instrument est éclaté dans ses différentes composantes (les capteurs de geste, les générateurs sonores, les haut-parleurs…) et chaque composante de l’instrument fait l’objet d’un travail d’écriture. Et donc, la partition elle-même se trouve éclatée entre les différentes composantes du dispositif, par exemple : le programme informatique, les sons qui sont enregistrés dans l’ordinateur. Si tu suis la partition et tu fais les gestes exactement comme ils sont notés, ça ne donne rien. D’ailleurs, dans une pièce comme Toucher — maintenant on a assez de recul pour pouvoir le dire, car elle a été jouée par des interprètes assez différents— il faut comprendre techniquement comment ça marche, c’est-à-dire savoir ce qu’est qu’un patch Max, comment marche une interaction, qu’est-ce que c’est qu’un granulateur, etc., afin d’être à l’aise dans le jeu. En comprenant ce qui se passe on peut mieux contrôler l’instrument, suivre la partition, et saisir plus précisément ce qui est noté graphiquement. Il n’est pas possible de maintenir une attitude traditionnelle qui consisterait à reproduire un certain type de gestes parce qu’ils ont été notés par le compositeur et que donc il faut les respecter. Ça ne marche pas comme ça, ça ne peut pas marcher comme ça, c’est impossible pour les raisons évoquées tout à l’heure, c’est que la relation à l’instrument n’est pas du tout la même. Dans Toucher, il y a la représentation des gestes et aussi une notation de ce qu’on doit entendre qui est noté avec le nom des sons. Mais il y a une troisième notation qui est à la toute fin de la partition : c’est un script qui décrit ce qui se passe dans chaque partie. Il y a 19 parties, c’est relativement facile à mémoriser et finalement c’est ça que mémorise surtout l’interprète. Ce que l’interprète garde en tête ce sont deux choses différentes : a) le fonctionnement de l’instrument, c’est-à-dire la façon dont il répond à l’action du musicien, dont l’espace autour des antennes est organisé, ce que fait le « patch », les différents samples utilisés, etc. ; et b) le script, c’est-à-dire l’activation successive des différentes composantes de l’instrument dans le temps.

 

2.4 Toucher, la forme

Jean-Charles
Parce que les 19 situations peuvent s’enchaîner dans des ordres différents ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Non, pas dans Toucher, à la différence de Virtual Rhizome. Dans Toucher, la forme est très directionnelle. Elle est structurée en deux parties qui suivent le même schéma : c’est comme si tu dessinais quelque chose, d’abord en faisant des points, puis des lignes, puis des ornements dans les lignes, puis il y a un moment où ça devient tellement complexe qu’on perd le lien entre le geste et ce qu’on entend. C’est à ce moment-là qu’apparaît le “vrai” son du thérémine, comme s’il disait : « Ah ! mais je suis là, c’est moi le véritable instrument ». Il y a donc une conduite formelle : on commence par le chiffre un, puis au deux il y a un élément nouveau, à trois, un troisième, à quatre, on revient à trois, etc. Donc tu ne peux pas le jouer dans n’importe quel sens.

Jean
Pour ma part, après avoir intégré les différentes parties, j’essaie de mettre en évidence des « états pivots » sortes de ponctuations qui me permettent de construire mon interprétation et donc ma lecture de la forme de la pièce. Il ne s’agit pas de raconter une histoire mais une forme de récit, au sens de parcours, un parcours intérieur qui se fait comme des mailles entre des sons qu’on révèle, ou que l’on va cacher, etc. C’est ce rapport que l’on a au fil du temps avec le son, qui finalement fait récit. Commencer par des riens, des bribes de sons et commencer à construire avec l’attention au fait d’essayer de ne jamais « perdre le public », donner des clés d’écoute. Si l’interprète est vraiment dans cette dynamique d’écoute du temps et de l’espace, il y aura obligatoirement quelque chose à prendre du côté du public. Il est clair que dans ce cadre, celui-ci doit être également curieux de ce qui va se passer ou non ; au fil de la pièce on peut percevoir une sorte de « co-écoute » et à ce moment il ne s’agit plus que de son partagé. Il s’agit d’être dans la même « fragilité d’écoute », une sorte de tension communicative et d’écoute intense, public et interprète ici et maintenant.

Vincent-
Raphaël
Dans le cas de Toucher, tu ne peux pas modifier l’ordre des sections, par contre, chaque section laisse la place pour développer un discours propre. Cela étant, il faut que tout ça s’enchaîne dans une continuité, on ne peut pas s’arrêter une demi-heure quelque part car toute la continuité disparaîtrait. Mais cette possibilité de prendre son temps est importante pour retrouver cette manière d’aller chercher la musique dans l’instrument, à la faire émerger. C’est donc important qu’il puisse exister une certaine liberté temporelle pour pouvoir le faire. Certains modules contiennent une petite partie d’aléatoire qui produit parfois des choses imprévues. Ce qui fait que quand le musicien est en train de travailler la matière avec sa main, s’il entend quelque chose d’intéressant, d’inattendu, il peut le refaire parce que c’était bien, et qu’il est heureux. En concert un truc imprévu peut arriver, « Ah ! tiens ! c’est curieux, ça je n’avais jamais entendu, je le refais ». Et donc, il y a cette ouverture-là, aussi, dans la pièce qui permet d’avoir ces moments heureux, surprenants. Tout en essayant de ne pas succomber à la tentation de la machine !

Jean-Charles
Dans le passage d’un module à l’autre, de 1. à 2. par exemple, la temporalité est contrôlée par l’interprète?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Oui. Par exemple, au chiffre 1, dans Toucher, on ne sait jamais précisément quel son va apparaître. On sait qu’il y a un réservoir de sons de voix, de soupirs, il y en a qui font « pouk, bong, zoom » [sons vocaux très courts] et puis il y en a beaucoup plus longs qui font « paaaaah » [chuchoté]. Donc, si on en entend un qui est plus long, on doit attendre pour éviter que ce soit trop chargé… On pourrait en déclencher plein, rien n’interdit de le faire, mais cela n’aurait pas de sens. Parfois, il arrive qu’on en fasse un ou deux de plus, ou que, je ne sais pas pour quelle raison, on ait envie de tenir un peu plus, et puis, quand les choses sont installées, qu’elles sont bien posées, on passe au chiffre 2, qui reprend les éléments de 1 avec une variation supplémentaire.

 

2.5 Toucher, processus temporel de l’appropriation de la pièce

Nicolas
Sidoroff
Je vous écoutais, mais je vous regardais aussi, parce que vous faisiez pleins de gestes intéressants. Concernant la manière dont Jean s’est approprié cette partition, ou cette notation, ou cette œuvre – je ne sais pas quel est le meilleur terme pour la qualifier – comment est-ce que cela a commencé, qu’est-ce que tu as fait et dans quel ordre ? Tu as dit que tu en avais beaucoup discuté avec Vincent, et du coup, c’est à quel moment, comment ? Est-ce que c’est avant, est-ce que c’est pendant, est-ce que c’est après, est-ce que c’est peut-être les trois ? Quel est le processus temporel de l’appropriation de la pièce ?

Jean
Comme pour toute pièce avec électroacoustique, en ce qui me concerne tout commence par le son. C’est la « signature » du compositeur et c’est ce qui me guide. A partir de là on commence à comprendre l’espace du compositeur, son univers, il s’agira que l’on y trouve notre place, notre lecture, notre réponse. Pour ces deux pièces, il ne s’agit pas uniquement de jouer le son, mais bien de se l’approprier. Une fois qu’on a une idée de l’espace sonore de chacune des parties, on va commencer à habiter ces différents espaces en leur donnant notre propre perception à travers le geste.

Une chose est pour moi réellement incroyable c’est la préscience que l’on peut avoir d’un son, préscience qui se révèle à travers une attitude, un geste, une écoute. Pour Virtual Rhizomes, on ne sait pas toujours quelle nappe va être jouée, quel impact, et l’écoute, l’attention qui en découle nous ouvre des horizons incroyables car potentiellement, cela nous oblige à être encore plus dans l’intuition d’un ressenti sonore qui nous est propre. C’est cet équilibre entre cette attitude d’écoute intégrale anticipée, et la notion de la forme sur laquelle nous avons travaillé qu’il faut garder de façon à ne pas être dans ce fameux « hochet » dont parle Vincent. Il est intéressant de se dire qu’une nappe jouée et que l’on ne connait pas à priori va déterminer le développement de cette séquence particulière, encore faut-il lui donner un sens particulier en termes d’espace.

Les dernières années où j’étais professeur de percussion à Lyon, pour faire en sorte que cette attention particulière au son soit mise en évidence dans le travail d’une pièce, je voulais qu’aucune nuance n’apparaisse sur les partitions que je donnais aux étudiants uniquement pour qu’ils aient un rapport simplement à la structure, et que les dynamiques (leur voix) soient lors de ces première lectures totalement libres. A ce moment-là, se pose de manière évidente la question du son et de sa projection, alors que si on lit une nuance écrite dans l’absolu et donc décontextualisée d’un mouvement global, on n’y pense même pas, on répète un geste sans que l’on prenne souvent suffisamment attention au son qui en résulte.

A l’inverse Toucher et Virtual Rhizome (comme d’autre pièces) nous obligent à questionner ces différents paramètres. Pour moi, Toucher comme Virtual Rhizome, sont fondamentalement des méthodes de musique : pas de prérequis, sauf à être curieux, intéressé, conscient des possibles, présent ! Cette liberté que nous proposent ces pièces sont avant tout une façon de nous questionner à tous les niveaux : notre rapport à la forme, au son, à l’espace, c’est en cela qu’elles sont de réelles méthodes de Musique. Ces pièces sont une véritable aventure et rencontre avec soi. Sur scène, vous savez à peu près où vous voulez aller, et en même temps, tout reste possible, c’est totalement grisant et en même temps totalement stressant.

Nicolas
J’ai l’impression que pour le travailler, tu as « squatté » entre guillemets chacune des 19 situations, comme s’il s’agissait de « maisons ». Tu es resté dans la première maison, pour reprendre cette image-là, pour voir ce qu’elle avait un peu dans le corps, ce que à quoi il retournait, avant de passer à la deuxième ?

Jean
Exactement.

Nicolas
Ou alors, tu as fait une lecture globale, en te disant : « Ah ! il y a un voyage vers la prochaine maison » ?

Jean
Non, j’ai fait vraiment partie par partie, en tout cas c’est ma façon de faire, arriver à se retrouver soi le mieux possible dans un espace avant d’aller explorer le suivant. C’est ce que j’appelle la « présence », il faut être présent, bien ancré dans le sol. Avec les nouvelles technologies, on pourrait rester dans une forme de superficialité, totalement dans la représentation, dans les effets. C’est précisément ce qui est problématique avec ces dispositifs électroacoustiques qui fonctionnent un peu comme des boites de Pandore avec tous les dangers que cela représente en termes d’interprétation ; est-ce que c’est nous qui décidons pour l’instrument ou l’instrument pour nous… ?

Nicolas
Il y a un moment, tu as dit que tu avais… En tout cas, on a sous-entendu que tu avais vu la version de Claudio ? À quel moment du processus ?

Jean
Après, toujours après que j’aie une idée à peu près claire de ce que je veux faire. Je connais bien Claudio, qui a été un de mes étudiants au CNSMDL, c’est une personnalité qui a un talent fou, une présence très italienne, magnifique. Sa version sonne comme une évidence. Je serais incapable de reproduire ce qu’il fait tant sa version est totalement singulière et lui correspond tout à fait, si je me mettais à vouloir reproduire ce qu’il fait, ça serait un désastre, ça serait ridicule. Et justement, c’est ça qui est fort avec cette pièce-là, il n’y aurait pas de bonne ou de mauvaise version de la pièce, mais une justesse d’interprétation, être juste est quelque chose qui est à la fois simple et terriblement compliqué, il s’agit de se retrouver soi.

Nicolas
Le geste que tu fais en silence avant le début de la pièce, que tu as décrit plusieurs fois, à quel moment de ton parcours d’appropriation de l’œuvre apparaît-il ? Et cela, est-ce que tu le gardes toujours, parce que, du coup, ça fait maintenant partie de ton interprétation ? Comment cela se construit-il ?

Jean
Jouer dans le silence juste par quelques gestes c’est quelque chose qui me touche beaucoup, et ce depuis que j’ai commencé à jouer la pièce de Thierry de Mey Silence must Be il y a de nombreuses années. Je me suis rendu compte que créer un espace gestuel dans du silence me permettait de me concentrer sur une présence et uniquement sur celle-ci, car il n’y a aucun artifice, aucune virtuosité, il n’y a que de la présence. L’idée est de faire en sorte que le public, au départ surpris voire incrédule, entre progressivement dans votre discours, et dans le cas de Silence Must Be, les clés lui sont données plus tard lorsque je rejoue la même séquence silencieuse, accompagnée d’une bande sonore enregistrée. Pour Toucher j’adore vraiment commencer de cette façon, à la différence que je construis un geste qui va s’augmenter de plus en plus donnant ainsi au public une clé de lecture. L’idée derrière cela est de vraiment « faire silence » ce qui est la meilleure façon de travailler sur le son, car ce n’est pas en jouant plus que l’on entend. Au contraire cela assomme parfois et plus on monte le son plus on l’écrase bien souvent. Ici l’idée est de faire en sorte que le premier son obtenu par le thérémine soit un son extrêmement fin presque à la limite de l’audible et pour cela il faut réellement faire silence. Une fois que l’on commence la pièce, c’est à partir de cette dynamique et de cette écoute initiale que nous pouvons la faire évoluer.

Jean-Charles
Apparemment, dans toute cette histoire, la notion d’enregistrement d’une performance donnée pose problème. Souvent, par exemple, en improvisation, on utilise l’enregistrement non pas pour le diffuser, mais comme miroir pour écouter ce qui s’est réellement passé, parce qu’on a une écoute différente après coup que quand on est en train de jouer. Quel est le statut de l’enregistrement dans ce contexte ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Il y a la captation vidéo qui fait partie des outils de travail, mais qui n’est pas simplement l’enregistrement son. C’est bien sûr la trace d’une expérience, mais pour ceux qui jouent la pièce ça peut être un outil de travail aussi, aidant à comprendre comment elle marche. Il y a aussi l’enregistrement audio lui-même : c’est assez drôle, parce que je me rappelle quand la pièce a été diffusée à la radio, en l’écoutant, je me demandais si c’était vraiment la pièce ? Ce qu’on entend, ce n’est qu’une partie de l’œuvre. C’est pour ça que je défends l’idée que les œuvres sont des agencements très particuliers, ce n’est pas simplement le son, c’est l’agencement entre le son, l’interprète qui joue et les gestes qu’il va faire. Tout ça prend du sens dans Toucher. Si on écoute un enregistrement, c’est comme si on écoutait une pièce acousmatique, tout simplement. Personnellement, j’en étais assez content parce que ça sonnait pas mal en tant que pièce acousmatique. Sauf que cette pièce n’a pas de support fixe, bien qu’il en existe un, puisque l’ordinateur est là et que le programme est fixé sur une mémoire. Mais elle donne lieu à une interprétation à chaque fois différente, à une nouvelle projection dans le temps qui est unique. La captation avec la vidéo a du sens en tant que trace d’un événement, comme n’importe quel enregistrement de n’importe quelle œuvre.

En ce moment un de mes étudiants est en train de monter la pièce. Il a travaillé sur les vidéos qu’on peut trouver en ligne pour la comprendre, en comprendre la notation, etc., ce qui fait gagner un peu de temps. Mais cela n’a pas été la démarche de Jean, il a eu un autre type d’expérience. Je pense que chacun aborde la pièce d’une certaine manière. Mais on peut dire que de façon générale, la vidéo est devenue un accessoire à la partition.

 
 

 


 

3.1 Virtual Rhizome, smartphones, hochet primitif, espaces virtuels

Jean-Charles
On peut peut-être passer à Virtual Rhizome. Dans cette pièce, l’interface entre l’interprète et le dispositif est assurée par la manipulation de smartphones. Pour commencer, on va revenir un peu à ce qui a déjà été abordé : à un moment donné dans l’article déjà cité, tu parles à ce sujet de « hochet primitif »[10].

Vincent-R.
[rire] J’aime bien.

Jean-Charles
Il me semble qu’il y a aussi la présence ici de l’idée des jeux vidéo, dans lesquels il y a les novices et puis les virtuoses…

Vincent-R.
… Ceux qui gagnent et ceux qui perdent…

Jean-Charles
Mais dans les jeux vidéo, il semble que les novices sont en quelque sorte reconnus comme respectables au même titre que les virtuoses. Est-ce que c’est le cas ? C’est-à-dire est-ce que la pièce reste la pièce, quel que soit la personne qui joue, même quelqu’un qui n’a jamais fait de musique ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Je ne sais pas. Un mot sur cette histoire de hochet, c’est en lien avec la problématique des interfaces. Dans Toucher, le lien entre les gestes et le son est complètement arbitraire, c’est moi qui l’ai choisi, c’est une relation purement contingente. Le même geste, ailleurs, dans la pièce, peut produire des sons très différents. Mais l’objet-thérémine est là, avec l’espace autour des antennes. Il y a tout ce qu’on disait tout à l’heure qui structure le geste du musicien, qui permet de créer un jeu expressif. Avec les smartphones, pour moi, c’était un problème, parce que là pour le coup tu n’as plus d’espace, c’est un objet réduit au minimum. Du point de vue gestuel, tu peux faire tous les gestes que tu veux, mais c’est un objet que tu tiens dans la main, et avec un seul et même mouvement de la main je peux faire un milliard de sons différents. Donc il y avait un problème relatif à la construction d’un discours, du fait de l’absence d’un espace structuré qui permette de dire : « Voilà ! au début je suis ici, après je vais jouer là, après je vais m’éloigner, je vais passer à… ». Dans Toucher, cet espace structuré existe autour des antennes. Dans Light Music de Thierry de Mey[11], que Jean a créée, il y a une surface lumineuse, virtuelle aussi, on ne la voit pas, mais quand il place la main quelque part, ce n’est pas n’importe où, il pose la main à l’endroit qui correspond en fonction de la structure de l’espace. Avec le smartphone, il n’y a pas de structure. C’est un objet ponctuel, presque « incorporé », qu’on ne peut que secouer. Ça me faisait penser à un maracas. Mais quand même, toute cette technologie pour faire le geste du maracas, ce n’était pas la peine de faire tout ça ! [rire] Pour moi, c’était un gros problème. Je me suis bien pris la tête pour trouver la solution qui paraisse convenable. Elle a consisté à ne pas chercher du tout à faire du smartphone un instrument. Cet objet-là, en soi, n’a pas beaucoup d’importance – même si ça en a évidemment, je caricature un peu – mais ce qui est important c’est : qu’est-ce que l’interprète est en train de jouer ? Où se trouve l’œuvre vraiment ?

Quand tu joues à un jeu vidéo, tu peux te retrouver dans une pièce ou dans la rue, puis à un moment donné tu tournes, tu vas dans une autre pièce ou tu passes dans une autre rue, et puis tu as des extraterrestres qui t’attaquent, tu dois réagir et ensuite tu passes à l’étape suivante. C’est une sorte d’architecture virtuelle que tu peux parcourir de plein de façons différentes. Finalement c’était ça l’idée dans Virtual Rhizome, laisser tomber le modèle instrumental traditionnel, qui existe encore dans Toucher, mais qui n’est plus adapté ici parce qu’il n’y a pas d’espace à explorer dans cet objet qu’est le smartphone. Et de là est venu cette idée de construire un espace virtuel et d’utiliser le smartphone comme une interface, presque comme une boussole qui permet de s’orienter à l’intérieur de cette architecture. Voilà comment les deux choses, le hochet et le jeu vidéo, sont liées.

 

3.2 Virtual Rhizome, le chemin vers la virtuosité, l’écoute

Jean-Charles
Et donc, où peut-on trouver le chemin vers la virtuosité dans cette pièce ?

Jean
L’écoute. Être capable non pas d’écouter mais d’une certaine façon être le son…
Lorsque l’on a enregistré avec Vincent les sons de percussion utilisés dans Virtual Rhizome, je jouais quasiment tout avec les doigts, les mains, cela permettait d’avoir beaucoup plus, de couleurs, de dynamique que si j’avais utilisé des baguettes. Lorsque l’on joue avec les mains il y a un rapport à la matière qui est particulier, surtout lorsque l’on passe sa vie à jouer avec des baguettes, et de fait, notre écoute lorsque l’on joue avec les mains et les doigts est encore plus « curieuse ».
Ensuite, pour cette pièce, il s’agit de bien comprendre l’interface et en jouer notamment avec la possibilité de superpositions d’états que l’on peut changer à chaque interprétation. Mais encore une fois, cela n’est possible qu’avec une vision claire de la forme générale si on ne veut pas se laisser dépasser par l’interface.
Quelque-soit l’interprète, il y a un point commun qui est cette nécessité d’écouter ; un son est entendu si je vais jusqu’au bout de ce qu’il peut dire. Il s’agit d’écrire une pièce électroacoustique en temps réel, avec ce qu’on entend de l’intérieur du son.

C’est l’idée de cette intériorité qui a fait avancer l’interprétation car au début je bougeais beaucoup sur scène, et plus j’ai avancé dans la pièce plus cette démarche est devenue intime, singulière et secrète, c’est pour cela que sur scène je suis éclairé par un contre (si possible rouge) pour que le public ne voit qu’une ombre et idéalement ferme de temps en temps les yeux…

Ce qui est intéressant avec les versions avec danse c’est qu’au final même si les mouvements sont plus riches plus diversifiés, il y a vraiment cette écoute intérieure qui prédomine et qui contraint à une certaine épure, un choix de l’intention avant le choix du mouvement ce qui donne à voir avec les danseurs des mouvements d’écoute et d’incarnation totalement singuliers.

Vincent-
Raphaël
Cette version avec danse était très impressionnante, parce que les trois danseuses étaient super en place. Je me disais : mais comment avez-vous pu être en place dans quelque chose qui ne l’est jamais, qui n’est jamais placé pareil ? On avait vraiment l’impression qu’elles étaient parfaitement synchronisées à la musique. Comment ont-elles fait ? C’était touchant, oui. Très touchant.

Jean
Et c’était génial à cause de l’accumulation des possibles, c’est-à-dire les nappes qu’elles avaient rencontrées, les sons qu’elles connaissaient, en tout cas qu’elles avaient entendues. Elles s’étaient fait une sorte de récit (c’est exactement la même chose dans Toucher), elles savaient, il y avait un récit qui se faisait, il y avait des choses très marquées, elles devaient être là à tel endroit. J’ai vraiment trouvé incroyable la sensibilité qu’elles avaient et surtout leur intelligence. Vraiment, lorsqu’on a travaillé dans un cadre comme celui-là, avec des pièces de cette intensité-là en termes d’interprétation, je pense qu’il y a véritablement un avant et un après. Parce que les formules proposées en général à des chorégraphes, c’est de danser sur une musique déjà définitivement fixée. La plupart du temps, lors des répétitions, ils ne font que répéter ce qui a déjà été plus ou moins décidé. Au contraire, on a ici l’idée d’un cadre souple qui permet de savoir où on en est parmi une infinité de possibles. Et les trois danseuses en ont vraiment profité parce qu’on l’a fait trois fois et c’était super à chaque fois.

 

3.3 Virtual Rhizome, une collaboration
compositeur/interprète/réalisateur en informatique musicale

Jean-Charles
Au cours de l’élaboration de la pièce, vous avez fait ensemble des sessions d’enregistrement de la voix et de sons de percussion. Quelle a été la nature de votre collaboration entre vous deux ?

Jean
C’est tout de même Vincent le compositeur. C’est une collaboration, bien sûr, mais le propre du compositeur par rapport à l’interprète c’est ce « temps d’avance », qui nous oblige à nous déplacer vers ce qui a été proposé. Ensuite la collaboration compositeur – interprète a toujours existé, même si cette collaboration prend des formes différentes en fonction des rencontres.
Avec Vincent tout parait cohérent et fluide même lorsque nous avons enregistré des tas de sons pendant une journée. Tout était clair pour moi et rapidement j’ai compris dans quel univers sonore j’allais évoluer, même si je n’avais pas idée de la forme de la pièce, mais rien que de connaître le paysage est une chose essentielle pour un interprète.

Vincent-
Raphaël
Par rapport à la collaboration, c’est vrai que j’aime beaucoup écrire des pièces solistes, parce que cela implique un lien très fort avec la personne qui la joue. La pièce nait de cette relation-là. Dans Virtual Rhizome, il y avait quelque chose d’un peu particulier, c’est que l’instrument n’existait pas encore, pas vraiment, il fallait tout développer. On avait le smartphone, effectivement, mais j’ai passé beaucoup de temps d’abord pour imaginer comment aborder l’œuvre, avant de travailler sur les modules de traitement du son, ce que j’ai fait avec Christophe Lebreton, sachant que je ne travaille jamais avec des réalisateurs en informatique musicale. Il m’était déjà arrivé de travailler avec Christophe, mais dans des projets où il avait un rôle artistique. Dans Virtual Rhizome c’était la première fois où il a eu vraiment le rôle de réalisateur en informatique musicale. Je faisais les patchs dans Max et Christophe les encodait dans Faust puis les compilait pour l’iApp. Comme l’outil n’était pas prêt, on pouvait difficilement travailler directement sur la pièce. Et en même temps, dans une pièce comme ça, il fallait que s’établisse une relation avec Jean. Je me rappelle d’avoir proposé à Jean quelque chose comme ceci : « Je ne sais pas où on va, mais il va falloir avoir du son, des sons. J’aimerais beaucoup que l’œuvre soit aussi une sorte de portrait de toi-même, et donc qu’on parte des instruments que tu aimes, de ta façon de les aborder et aussi que tu joues avec les mains, sans baguettes ». Conceptuellement c’était intéressant que dans une telle pièce, où, justement, il n’y pas de contact à l’instrument, que les sons possèdent dans leur être profond ce contact direct au corps de l’interprète. Enfin, le son le plus personnel qu’on puisse imaginer c’est la voix. Et donc, j’ai proposé aussi à Jean de trouver un texte. Il y en a eu deux en fait : Jean a proposé des extraits de la Recherche de Proust, et j’ai proposé un texte de Borges (mais c’est Jean qui l’a dit aussi) extrait du « Jardin aux sentiers qui bifurquent » [dans Fictions][12]. C’est encore une histoire à la Borges, labyrinthique qui allait très bien pour le projet. Et les deux textes disent quelque chose sur le travail sensuel de l’écoute, le travail sur la matière sonore, la structure labyrinthique de l’œuvre. Ils sont là comme des signatures dont on peut entendre parfois un mot, un fragment à peine audible de la voix de Jean.

Tu as posé une question tout à l’heure, Jean-Charles, sur la virtuosité. Alors parler de virtualité ou de virtuosité, j’ai bien aimé le lien que tu fais entre les deux. La virtuosité, ici, réside dans le fait qu’il y a deux smartphones ayant un comportement complètement isolé l’un de l’autre. Ils ne communiquent pas entre eux. On pourrait jouer l’œuvre avec un seul smartphone, d’une certaine façon. On passerait d’une situation à l’autre, en avant et en arrière, grâce au contrôle gestuel. Avec les deux, on peut combiner n’importe quelle situation avec n’importe quelle autre situation. Ça veut dire qu’il faut un travail d’écoute, là, pour le coup, extrêmement tendu justement, du fait que, d’une part, tu ne sais pas toujours quelles sont les séquences automatisées qui vont apparaître, les trames, les nappes dont parlait Jean et d’autre part, tu as aussi les sons contrôlés, joués, dont chacun peut être très riche déjà en soi. Les deux smartphones induisent une très grande complexité du fait de la richesse des combinaisons possibles. Cela demande un travail d’écoute, d’intériorité, très concentré pour tenter de se repérer dans cet univers virtuel, car, justement, il n’a pas de consistance physique. Il n’y a plus de partition, la partition est dans la tête, c’est comme le palais de mémoire au moyen-âge, une architecture purement virtuelle qu’il faut parcourir. Ce qui fait que j’aime bien que tu rattaches ces termes de virtuosité et de virtualité parce que l’un dépend de l’autre, d’une certaine façon.

Jean-Charles
Sur cette collaboration, Jean, est-ce que tu veux rajouter quelque chose ?

Jean
Je connaissais déjà les pièces de Xavier Garcia, et donc, travailler avec des smartphones ne me posait pas de problème, par contre, c’est en commençant à détourner les applications de Xavier que je me suis réellement rendu compte du potentiel. Il est essentiel de savoir à minima comment cela fonctionne car sinon on n’arrive pas réellement à en jouer, de façon à ne pas se laisser dépasser par l’outil… Car c’est lui qui, au final, risquerait de prendre toute la place.

Nicolas
Ce que je trouve intéressant, c’est que la question de la quatrième édition de PaaLabRes est centrée sur comment rendre compte des pratiques et notamment celles complexes qu’on vient de décrire. Dans le cas de Virtual Rhizome peut-être plus que dans Toucher, il y a trois pôles qui sont assez bien définis en ce qui concerne la division du travail classique du 19e siècle, lorsque l’ordinateur n’existait pas. Il y a la personne qui compose, la personne qui performe, qui rend la composition en sons actuels, et Christophe qui est le luthier, qui serait une espèce d’informato-technicien, je ne sais pas trop comment le dire. Donc le compositeur donne une œuvre à jouer, quelque chose pour musiquer en termes de verbes d’action, Jean comme performer l’apprend et en fait quelque chose, et le rôle de Christophe, c’est de livrer le logiciel avec le système dedans pour faire que ça marche. Et c’est cette combinaison-là qui n’est pas du tout aussi simple que ce que je viens de décrire. C’est quand même une première représentation, et si on va juste un peu à l’étage au-dessous, pour voir les liens qui se tissent entre les uns et les autres, les mots qui sont utilisés, on peut se demander comment le fait à un moment d’avoir dit ça, d’avoir utilisé pour cette utilisation ce mot-là en particulier qui sort à un moment donné, parce qu’on l’a peut-être entendu prononcé à la sortie d’un bus, va permettre de faire activer une réelle collaboration. Comment on arrive à pouvoir décrire cette forme de complicité entre ces trois postes qu’on pourrait croire, dans une vision un peu primaire et bestiale, extrêmement séparés. On a tendance à regarder trop vite les choses, mais en fait il y a énormément de subtilités. À quels endroits se joue cette forme de coopération entre au moins vous-trois ? Ce n’est pas l’Ircam avec le Max MSP et tout ce genre de communauté un peu plus large. Je ne sais pas comment en rendre compte. J’ai quelques idées, mais, je vous livre un peu cette question pour nous aider à faire cela.

Jean
Je pense que c’est une version moderne de ce qui existait avec Mozart et le cor de basset, Bartok avec les timbales à pédale, Wagner avec le saxhorn… Je pense qu’il y a toujours eu ces relations-là, elles sont extrêmement imbriquées. Le luthier, Christophe, participe à la création de la pièce, il est structurant dans le processus de création. Il est clair qu’aujourd’hui, nous ne sommes plus dans la situation des époques précédentes où le compositeur maîtrisait l’outil et souvent était l’interprète de ses propres œuvres, en gardant le contrôle sur les trois tiers du processus de création : intuition, écriture, réalisation.
De nos jours, avec les dispositifs, la notion d’écriture a totalement changé de cadre, il s’agit en même temps de décrire la musique tout en mettant en place le dispositif de captation ou électroacoustique, ou en temps réel, c’est-à-dire construire un instrument.
Le compositeur ne peut couvrir qu’en partie le 2ème tiers sachant que la lutherie évolue également dans le processus d’écriture… La seule chose qui est évidente, c’est que du début à la fin, il y a une parole, c’est celle du compositeur, en termes de : « Ça je veux, ça je ne veux pas ». Et pour moi, c’est l’alpha et l’oméga de la création, c’est-à-dire son exigence. En tant qu’interprète il nous fait une matière, un discours, un récit, une vision, une pertinence. Il ne s’agit pas de hiérarchie, mais cette parole-là est le cœur de tout le processus de rencontre et de création.

 

3.4 Virtual Rhizome, la « Partition »

Nicolas
Dans l’article déjà cité, il y a la figure 3, qui est une représentation graphique avec le smartphone 1 et le smartphone 2 qui passe de 7 à 8 et qui revient à 7, etc. Et on se posait la question s’il s’agit de la notation d’un des possibles ? S’agit-il en fait de ce que Jean n’a jamais fait peut-être, de ce que Jean n’a jamais eu besoin de regarder pour réaliser la pièce ? Cette figure me semblait un peu incompatible avec le fait que soit la partition avec ce qu’il y a à faire. Donc, cette figure 3, qu’est-ce qu’elle représente ?
 
Extrait de la partition de Virtual Rhizome (exemple 3 de l'article)

Extrait de la partition de Virtual Rhizome (exemple 3 de l’article).

 

Vincent-
Raphaël
En fait, là, il s’agit d’un extrait de la partition. La partition contient aussi un texte de présentation qui explique le sens même de cette notation, laquelle correspond à un relevé de la première interprétation de Jean. Effectivement, c’est un parcours possible, mais qui est basé sur ce qui a déjà existé. Jean a donc super bien interprété la partition ! L’enregistrement respecte absolument la partition, puisque ça a été fait dans l’autres sens… Pas mal de choses proviennent de son interprétation. À un moment Jean faisait des allers-et-retours entre deux situations… J’ai transcrit cet extrait dont tu parles correspondant je crois aux situations 7 et 8. Il explicite qu’on puisse s’arrêter dans une zone de cette architecture pour la parcourir, pour regarder un peu ce qui se passe autour, et jouer avec la complexité issue de la combinaison des deux smartphones. Mais on peut la parcourir encore de beaucoup plus de façons que ce qui est indiqué dans la partition.

Au-dessus, dans la Figure 3, il y a aussi un terme : « inéluctable ». Il y a des termes qui sont venus s’ajouter afin de produire des intentionnalités. L’interprète ne fait pas que générer des sons, il les anime, leur donne une âme, littéralement, et pour leur donner une âme, il faut qu’il y ait une intention, un sens. Ça peut être un concept, je ne sais pas, une figure géométrique, quelque chose qui génère une intentionnalité. Ceci est important dans la partition, mais ce qui est noté c’est effectivement un parcours possible, et celui-là résulte donc du travail de l’interprète, c’est un parcours qui a été effectué par l’interprète pendant la collaboration et qui devient un modèle de la pièce possible. Il est intéressant de constater que c’est ce parcours qui a été suivi par les autres interprètes qui l’ont jouée, comme si la forme était définitivement fixée.

Jean-Charles
Vincent, tu as mentionné ci-dessus qu’il n’y avait plus de partition et que « la partition est dans la tête ». Comment de ton point de vue, Jean cela fonctionne-t-il ?

Jean
Ç’est lié à ce que dit Vincent, dans une pièce comme celle-ci l’idée d’avoir une infinité d’interprétation est une richesse incroyable, c’est un peu comme lorsque l’on analyse un poème, il se trouve qu’il y aura autant d’approche différentes que de gens qui liront le poème qui est pourtant le même pour tout le monde, j’adore ça.

Jean-Charles
C’est ce que Vincent appelle les « images » ? Dans le texte de l’article, on peut lire : « images totalement intériorisées par le musicien »[13]. S’agit-il des mots dont on vient de parler ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Pas seulement ces mots, mais tous les sons et le parcours, tout. Une image dans le sens « imaginaire », tu vois, c’est quelque chose d’intérieur…

Jean-Charles
Ce n’est pas quelque chose de totalement visuel ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Non, c’est intérieur. Mais on doit toujours se construire une image, pour que les choses puissent avoir une consistance et être extériorisées.

Nicolas
Moi, j’aurais une hypothèse sur le fait que les gens respectent la partition, qui est donnée comme impossible à respecter. En fait, il ne faudrait pas poser la question à tous les deux en même temps [rires]. Si quelqu’un te contacte, toi, Vincent, qui aimerait bien jouer cette pièce, qu’est-ce que tu commences par lui dire, qu’est-ce que tu lui envoies et tout ça. Réciproquement, si un interprète vient voir Jean en disant : « Ah ! j’ai trouvé ça vachement bien, qu’est-ce qu’il faut que je fasse pour pouvoir jouer ça ». Qu’est-ce que vous donnez, qu’est-ce que vous ne donnez pas ou que vous ne donnez pas tout de suite ?

Vincent-
Raphaël
Oui. Mais il y a quand même dans la partition à proprement parler un texte de présentation qui oriente beaucoup le travail. Ça, c’est écrit. Si quelqu’un vient me demander de monter la pièce, la première chose à dire c’est qu’il faut travailler chaque situation séparément, pour comprendre comment ça marche, parce que la partition, ce n’est pas la notation. La partition c’est aussi l’instrument, ce sont les modules de traitement sonore, ce sont les choix des sons enregistrés, c’est la voix de Jean, c’est la façon dont on a configuré certains types de contrôleurs à certains types de paramètres, tout cela fait partie de la partition. Il faut connaître tout cela pour pouvoir naviguer à l’intérieur et, une fois connu, à ce moment-là je pense qu’on peut faire un travail de construction, un travail musical. Jean, il connaissait tout parce qu’il a participé à la création de l’instrument avec Christophe, donc pour lui, c’est une évidence. Mais pour quelqu’un d’autre, cela ne l’est pas du tout. C’était déjà le cas dans Toucher, mais là peut-être encore moins. Ce n’est pas évident parce qu’on a la conception de l’instrument sur quoi on agit physiquement et qui capte le geste, et la partition où les intentions sont transcrites.

 

3.5 En conclusion : Références à André Boucourechliev et John Cage

Jean-Charles
Dans l’article, à la fin, dans la conclusion, il y a des références à Boucourechliev et à Cage. Or, ça me vient à l’esprit d’après ce que tu dis, que c’est précisément un peu différent parce que, et notamment chez Cage, il y a une séparation fondamentale entre le compositeur et l’interprète. Le compositeur définit des processus, et ensuite il passe le relais à l’interprète pour réaliser la pièce sans qu’il y ait besoin d’avoir le moindre contact entre eux. Chez Boucourechliev, c’est un peu la même chose, l’interprète peut élaborer sa partie du processus de création de manière tout à fait indépendante. Et donc, ça me paraît très intéressant de citer cette origine des partitions graphiques des années 1950-60 et de la comparer avec ce qui se passe aujourd’hui. Mais en même temps, vos propos me paraissent extrêmement différents de ce qui se passait à ce moment-là.

Vincent-
Raphaël
C’est sûr. Mais avant de parler de ça, je voudrais juste répondre à ce que disait Nicolas, sur le rôle de Christophe dans cette affaire. C’est lui qui est le concepteur du système. Cette idée de faire quelque chose avec les smartphones, c’est déjà un point de départ important. Comme toujours quand on entame quelque chose de nouveau, au début les idées sont un peu floues, on ne sait pas trop ce qu’on peut faire avec, donc on se réfère à des modèles connus. Dans le cas de Christophe, son expérience est basée sur le modèle de l’instrument, mais pas seulement. Je suis passé un peu vite en parlant de son travail artistique. Ce n’est pas seulement un réalisateur en informatique musicale, c’est aussi un concepteur de systèmes interactifs. Je suis peut-être le seul à dire cela, mais pour moi la conception du système interactif fait fondamentalement partie du travail d’écriture. Il y a un mot-clé que j’aime beaucoup car il traduit assez bien ce type d’expériences : c’est le terme d’agencement. Pour chaque nouvelle œuvre on se retrouve à agencer des fonctions musicales — l’interprète, le compositeur, le luthier — avec des outils techniques, pour créer à chaque fois des agencements originaux. Et voilà, la différence entre Toucher, entre la Chaconne de Bach et Virtual Rhizome, c’est qu’à chaque fois ce sont des agencements différents entre ce qu’on considère être une partition, une notation, un instrument, l’interprète, le compositeur, la place de chacun, la façon dont l’œuvre s’élabore, et à chaque fois il y a une œuvre et il y a donc effectivement un compositeur. L’idée même d’œuvre, la configuration qu’elle a, le lien entre le compositeur et l’interprète, tout ça, ça donne lieu à des agencements singuliers. Et pour moi, le compositeur qui a le plus expérimenté ceci au 20e siècle, c’est Cage. Chez Cage, les œuvres – il fabrique des œuvres, donc c’est effectivement un compositeur, il a cette fonction-là — sont très souvent des agencements particuliers entre des situations, l’interprète qui est aussi un homme de théâtre, les instruments qu’il faut choisir, ou des outils techniques, des installations, etc. Et évidemment, pour moi, il y a un lien direct entre le travail de Cage et des pièces comme Virtual Rhizome, c’est que les partitions de Cage, souvent, ne représentent pas une œuvre finie, ce sont des formes ouvertes. Surtout, la partition est un générateur d’œuvres. Si vous prenez les Variations de Cage, c’est un générateur d’œuvres, en somme, c’est comme si on vous donnait un modèle, un manuel d’instructions destiné à fabriquer la vôtre, en déterminant l’évolution des paramètres et les relations entre eux. Cage propose en fait des outils techniques, des supports, qui permettent donc à l’interprète de construire sa propre œuvre. Ce faisant il le fait sortir de la fonction traditionnelle d’interprète et crée ainsi un agencement particulier entre la partition et lui. Et par rapport à Boucourechliev, il y a un lien en effet entre lui et Virtual Rhizome : c’est que la partition est une sorte de carte de navigation. Ce que j’ai dit tout à l’heure sur l’architecture virtuelle s’applique ici, les smartphones sont comme des gouvernails qui permettent de naviguer à l’intérieur de l’œuvre. Les Archipels de Boucourechliev c’est un peu ça, ça porte bien son nom, c’est une carte de navigation.

Jean-Charles
Le terme qu’on a tendance à utiliser ici est celui de « dispositif » plutôt qu’agencement.

Vincent-
Raphaël
Dispositif, je l’ai bien utilisé aussi, on l’a écrit dans l’article. Dispositif, ça me va très bien. Disposer, composer, ça parle, c’est logique. Mais il y a dans le dispositif un double sens. Philosophiquement, il fait partie aussi des termes à double tranchant : c’est Foucault qui parle de dispositif, de dispositif d’internement, de surveillance. Et c’est vrai, on le sent, il y a quelque chose avec les dispositifs techniques qui nous emprisonne. Alors que le terme deleuzien d’agencement a pour moi un sens plus ouvert. Il y a quelque chose dans l’agencement par rapport au dispositif qui le rend plus ouvert, moins orienté. Le dispositif, ça a une finalité. L’agencement, je ne sais pas trop à quoi ça sert, il reste ouvert à l’exploration. Ce sont là des nuances, deux points de vue complémentaires d’un même processus[14].

Jean-Charles
Merci à tous les deux pour cet entretien très riche. Merci aussi à Nicolas.

 


1.Christophe Lebreton : « Musicien et scientifique de formation, il collabore avec Grame depuis 1989. »
Voir : Grame

2. Xavier Garcia, musicien, Lyon : Xavier Garcia

3. Charles Juliet, Rencontres avec Bram Van Velde, P.O.L., 1998.

4. « Light Wall System a été développé par LiSiLoG avec Christophe Lebreton et Jean Geoffroy. Voir LiSiLoG, Light Wall System

5. « SmartFaust est à la fois le titre d’un concert participatif, et le nom d’un ensemble d’applications pour smartphones (Android et Iphone) développées par Grame à partir du langage Faust. » Voir Grame, Smart Faust.

6. Claudio Bettinelli, percussionniste, Saint-Etienne. Voir Claudio Bettinelli.

7. Vincent-Raphaël Carinola, Typhon, l’œuvre s’inspire du récit de Joseph Conrad Typhon. Voir Grame, Typhon.

8. « Espaces notationnels et œuvres interactives », op. cit. 2.3, 2e paragraphe.

9. Thierry De Mey, Silence Must Be : « Dans cette pièce pour chef solo, Thierry De Mey poursuit sa recherche sur le mouvement au cœur du « fait » musical… Le chef se tourne vers le public, prend le battement de son cœur comme pulsation et se met à décliner des polyrythmes de plus en plus complexes ; …3 sur 5, 5 sur 8, en s’approchant de la proportion dorée, il trace les contours d’une musique silencieuse, indicible… » Grame

10. « Espaces notationnels et œuvres interactives », op. cit. 3.1.

11. Thierry de Mey, Light music : « pièce musicale pour un « chef solo », projections et dispositif interactif (création mars 2004 – Biennale Musiques en Scène/Lyon), interprétée par Jean Geoffroy, a été réalisée dans les studios Grame à Lyon et au Gmem à Marseille, qui ont accueilli en résidence Thierry De Mey. » Grame

12. Jorge Luis Borges, Fictions, trad. P. Verdevoye et N. Ibarra, Paris : Gallimard, 1951, 2014.

13. « Espaces notationnels et œuvres interactives », op. cit. 3.2.

14. Voir Monique David-Ménard, « Agencements déleuziens, dispositifs foucaldiens », dans Rue Descartes 2008/1 (N°59), pp. 43-55 : Rue Descartes

Nicolas Sidoroff – English

 

Return to the French original text: « Vous avez dit… lisière ? » (Nicolas Sidoroff – Français)

 


 

You said… Edges?

Nicolas Sidoroff (January 2021).

Summary:

Several Activities (from where I am speaking)
With Multiple Half-times
In Terms of Musical Adventures

Concerning Edges, Fringes, Margins
Emmanuel Hocquard…
…and a Spot/Task [ta/âche]
…White or Blank.
Therefore, Vigilance!

Inhabit one of the Edges?
To be a Musician and to be a Dancer
Situated Creation, example of sound of roulèr
This sound of roulèr in interaction
Musical Practices from Réunion Island

References
Post-Scriptum

 


 

Several Activities (from where I am speaking)

I am a musician>militant<researcher… My two main activities, making music and research, are connected. They relate and contribute to practices of social transformation that I would hope to achieve, that one would hope to be emancipatory. I am compelled to move to a “we” that brings together several groups and collectives working in three co-extensive dimensions: a critique of systems of domination, a conception of alternatives, and a critique of these same alternatives… Musical practices are the field in which I have the most knowledge of dominations and alternatives, and in which I take great pleasure in getting involved; and research practices joyfully equip me to develop both critiques and alternatives.

With Multiple Half-times

I often introduce myself by adding several “half-times” (not only because this expression also means the break and informal moments between two parts of a game!). Thus, I manage to have more than two half-times… It means that 1) “it’s overflowing!”, that 2) no half-time takes up all my time exclusively, and that 3) elements can be found in one and any others at the same time. Being in one of these half-times doesn’t mean that the others are put aside or dormant. The game is not a zero-sum game where each person would have so many points of energy to be distributed equally here and there (as if a “here” could not be “there” too). It’s actually very different: many activities participate fully in such and such a half time and also at such and such other ones.
Thus, having three half-times seems to me to better describe what I experience than having one and a half full-time, even if mathematically it seems the same. The third half is often a way of describing the informal times that are so important after a more explicit and identified, often more formal and settled time. And if there is a third half, where is the fourth half, the one for tidying up, going home, assessing the situation, etc.? The number “3” evokes multiplicity, interactions, and openness. I see and feel more joy in it than in the formulation “full-time and a half”. Although this one evokes an interesting globality (definitively each time it concerns me), it seems to me to put the emphasis more directly on a closed uniqueness, the heavy fatigue and the painful overflow. That is to say that this expression « half-time » that I use is symbolic. It says nothing about the real time spent in, the workload demanded by, the regularity and forms of intensity, the associated statutes and work contracts. For example, in Decree n°84-431 of June 6, 1984 “establishing the common statutory provisions applicable to teacher-researchers”, it is written “Teacher-researchers have a dual mission of teaching and research.” [art. 2]; and the description of working hours is explained as follows:

The reference working time, corresponding to the working time established in the civil service, is constituted for teacher-researchers:
1° Half of the time is spent on teaching (…)
2° Half of the time is spent on research (…) [art. 7].

In the same job, there is thus mention of two “halves” of time.

One of these part-time jobs corresponds to my work as a teacher-researcher at Cefedem[1] Auvergne Rhône-Alpes (a half-time job contracted as such, but the actual activity amounts to much more). I principally work in the Continuing Education on-the-job training program. We offer training through research towards the obtention of a Music teacher State Diploma [Diplôme d’État] at the Licence level, in the specialized sectors of music teaching, that exist in all forms of music schools, including conservatories.

And in a few other half-times, I am conducting research (for example with the PaaLabRes collective). In these same temporalities, I am a doctoral student at the University of Paris VIII, Vincennes in Saint-Denis, in Educational Sciences, in the Experice laboratory (Centre de Recherche Interuniversitaire Expérience Ressources Culturelles Éducationunder the direction of Pascal Nicolas-Le Strat. I work on musical practices and on the way several people make music together, especially around questions of cooperation and division of labor. In this university, among students, we formed the Collectif-en-devenir [collective in becoming], to work together, to be collective in our research and to try to shape the university according to our experiences and ideas [see for example 2016]. And linked to this entry into the world of the university, I have been participating in the network of the Fabriques de sociologie: “a space for social science research that associates actors from different fields (social sciences, political militancy, architecture, social intervention, literature, activism, education, health…).”

This exposition of multiple half-time jobs is a way of describing my rather continuous and joyful crossing of “walls” between categories that a certain number of people would keep separate. For example, in small configurations on a concert stage, I have often and for many years now been making the sound check of the group at the same time as playing trumpet in the brass section. So, I have the impression that I live on the “edges” on a regular basis. This is why this notion has resonated and reasoned strongly in me. I have thus constructed the expression “edge nucleus” which allows

first of all, to radically evacuate representations in rigid boxes with borders, or in limiting and excluding boxes. (…) To view musical practices as the interaction and articulation of six “edge nucleus”, each corresponding to a family of activities: creation, performance, mediation-education, research, administration, techniques-instrument making. [Sidoroff, 2018b, p. 265]

In Terms of Musical Adventures

Concerning musical practices, I mainly play in two collectives which have been two adventures for the last twenty years or so.
The first one (because it is the oldest, even if it is difficult to date its beginning) can be called “post-improvisation”: music not necessarily improvised but made possible because we love and practice improvisation in different contexts. The type of music is close to the downtown style. Let’s say for short: experimental and open music (see for example the adventures of Miss Goulash[2] and Spirojki, or the project “Bateau Ivre” by gsubi). The expression has its origin in New York City, but many people play this downtown music without living in New York City. And this is the second generation, which is called Downtown II. I gradually appropriated these terms, starting with the (amazed) listening to the galaxies around John Zorn and Fred Frith (to take only the most famous figures), then the discovery of the resources of the Downtown Music Gallery in New York[3] and so on. More recently, I discovered the two articles by George Lewis (“Improvised Music After 1950” [1996] and its “Postface” [2004], translated in the first edition of PaaLabRes as « Postface à « La musique improvisée après 1950 », Le pareil qui change »[4]), and then the article by Kyle Gann [2012] which present these terms conceptually and historically.
In my personal way of approaching this Downtown II music, a first generation of elders and friends has emerged from which I started to play music and to carry my research. They are intimately connected to the emergence of free-jazz and all its musical and political antecedents and developments. See for example the AACM in Chicago, Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians as told by the same George Lewis [2008; Pierrepont, 2015]. For me, the next generation, which corresponds more to my age and background, is strongly connected to the libertarian practices of post-punk hardcore.

My other great collective adventure comes from Réunion Island. I will talk about it at greater length below, after having made a detour through the notion of the edge (or fringe or margin).

 

Concerning Edges, Fringes, Margins

Emmanuel Hocquard…

My doctoral research project is entitled: “Exploring the edges of activity, towards a microsociology of (musical) practices” [Sidoroff, 2018b]. This term “edge” appeared extremely interesting to me in an article by Emmanuel Hocquard on translation. He is a creator of poetry, in the multiple sense of writer, editor, translator, public reader, organizer, teacher, etc. In this article, he distinguishes three conceptions of translation with regard to the limit (the “reactionary conception” where translation can only betray), the border (the “classical conception” where translation passes from one language and culture to another) and the edge (conception that “makes translation […] a hedge between the fields of literature”). [2001, pp. 525-526].

I shared this last notion in this article after a meeting session of encounter-improvisation on April 24, 2019, with Yves Favier and György Kurtag, and also Jean-Charles François and Gilles Laval from PaaLabRes (they were already acquainted with my research based on the term “edge” understood this way). As it was a first meeting, we played and discussed our particular backgrounds. Then we shared a meal (thank you Jean-Charles) and the washing up, etc.; these agencies are as essential as checking for the presence of loud-speakers and toilet paper, etc.
And after this day, they all find themselves in this edition, see in particular the text-collage « Lisières »

Below are a few passages that have already been published, with some additions on one aspect.

… and a Spot/Task [ta/âche]…

I work on the notions of “border” and “edge” between different activities. (…) A border is crossed in the thick and consistent sense of the term, one part of the body then the other, more or less gradually. This body has a thickness, we are on one side and on the other of a line or a surface which constitutes a border at a given moment. This can create a swing, such as back and forth movements in body weight above that line or on either side of it. How do you cross a border between several activities: what happens when I change “caps,” for example, between a space-time where I am a composer and another where I am a sound engineer? [Sidoroff, 2018a, p. 50]

Emmanuel describes the edge as: “white stain” or “blank spot” [tache blanche]. For a long time, I understood and made him say “white task” [tâche blanche]. The circumflex accent made a lot of sense, evoking both the work to be done (by the task) and a space to be explored characterized by its situation (by the slightly nominalized adjective “white” or “blank”). Behind this, I understood and still understand, an invitation to come and inhabit, explore and practice such spaces. The “blank spot” is very present in the work of Emmanuel Hocquard: it evokes the unexplored places of geographical maps <1997, §2-§3>, where one could not yet know what to write nor in what colors. The “blank spot translation” for him, a “blank spot activity” for me, is to create “unexplored areas (…), it’s gaining ground” <1997, §4 et 6bis>. In my vocabulary habits, I would also say: to create the possible. [Sidoroff, 2018b, pp. 263-264]

…white or blank.

After these first elements on the words “spot/stain” and “task”, it is necessary to linger on the word “white” (or “blank”) [blanc]. The adjective as well as the noun “white” is at the heart of a beautiful ambivalence between the full and the empty, the addition and the lack, and they force us to a decolonial thought; in the double meaning of to compel us and to bind us by contract.
The color “white” qualifies as: “resembling a surface reflecting sunlight without absorbing any of the visible rays; of the color of milk or fresh snow”. [Consise Oxford Dictionary of Current English, Oxford University Press, 1990, p. 1399]. We see these colors decompose with a prism, or with drops of water giving a rainbow, or by looking at the surface of a soap bubble. The hexadecimal RGB color code for white is #ffffff, that is all red, green and blue sliders at maximum. It is the same in the realm of sound: a “white” noise is composed equally of all frequencies of the audible, of the entire audible sound spectrum with the same energy for each frequency. But a “blank voice” [voix blanche] refers to a voice without timbre that lacks something… A “blank check” [chèque en blanc] is both empty because it needs to be filled, and full of possible promises because precisely it can be filled!
The Dictionnaire historique de la langue française (DHLF) explains: “Early on, the adjective takes on the symbolic value of ‘untarnished, pure’ (cf. Concise Oxford Dictionary: ‘innocent, untainted’). A blank has in many cases a negative value of ‘lack’, like a blank in memory. In a speech, a “blank” [blanc] refers to a silence, like a void that can make participants think. It is also the free space, the line spacing that organizes a text in a page that we call blank when it does not yet bear any traces. The expression “nuit blanche” [sleepless night] refers to the absence of sleep or the overload of activities. It is also the center of a shooting target and by extension the target itself, as in the expression “shooting at point-blank”, but “shooting blanks” is for fake, whereas “cutting blanks” and “saigner à blanc” (bleed dry) rather qualify the fact of going all the way and leaving nothing behind. The word “blanc” [white or blank] is thus rich in a context of invitation to explore…

All the more so because “White” could mean to belong to the white race fabricated by racism. For example, the Littré dictionary defines the adjective “white” also by the color of snow and milk. It does not specify the combination of colors of the solar spectrum, which is understandable in the historical context of a dictionary of the late nineteenth century. This historical context should also be taken into account when it is written for the noun: “a white man, a white woman, a man, a woman belonging to the white race. A white man and a negro; a white woman and a negress”.
When Emmanuel Hocquard exemplifies what he has just named the “blank spot” in relation to Lewis Carroll’s “perfect and absolute blank” “Ocean Map” in Hunting for the Snark of 1876 [Hocquard, 1997; 2001, p. 402], this is left to the imagination and all possibilities. But a blank spot in an unexplored area of a geographical map also evokes the context of European colonial conquests. Declaring a zone as unexplored ignores the rest of the sentence: unexplored for whom, for what? It is often more precisely: an area not yet explored by us who say that it would be good to do so, whenever there are things of interest for our own business!
In a process of exploration, with which walls do we go about building other walls?

Therefore, Vigilance!

At the beginning of my thesis work, I had identified vigilance [2018b, p. 269] as a way to constantly keep a critical eye on my work: to draw on political popular education [Morvan, 2011] and on the construction of strategic social knowledges [Carton, 2005].
I will now specify three complementary aspects, to make it more explicit (already to myself):

  1. As their designation indicates, these strategic social knowledges are knowledges, they are thus constructed and to be constructed. The research of Léa Laval [2016; 2019] is extremely valuable for taking into account the processes, methods and ways of establishing them (elaborating and sharing them), and with Myriam Cheklab [2019], for considering research in times of struggle and the struggle against domination while researching.
  2. Strategic social knowledge has a “class struggle”, feminist, non-binary, decolonial dimension, which is fundamentally intersecting. Never forget this when I am working today in 2021 on musical practices, one of whose essential rhizomes is Afro-American free jazz linked to civil rights struggles, on musical practices that claim to manufacture Réunionese Creole roots reggae from metropolitan France, in an environment in an almost men excluvive majority environment, etc.
  3. These strategic social knowledges are located and aware of their situation. I am white, male, cis-gender, straight, almost 50 years old… this is already starting to do a lot in terms of advantages and “privileges” (see the entry “privilèges” in the Dictionnaire des dominations [Manouchian, 2012, pp. 285-288]). And I should add doctoral student and teacher (teaching future music teachers)! This almost triples the epistemological intimidation exerted from the position of an instituted (supposedly) knowledgeable, scholarly person, i.e., one who is perceived as full of recognized and valued, valuable knowledge (knowledge with a hegemonic tendency that creates domination). Saying that doing research is in fact intensely doubting and asking questions by sharing a way of thinking (and everyone thinks!); saying that being a “teacher” is in fact setting up and maintaining procedures so that people who experience them learn (and everyone learns) … is not enough. It is in acts and over time that these aspects can begin to be grasped and experienced. The French classroom imaginary has deeply rooted representations.

 

Inhabit one of the edges?

To be a musician and to be a dancer

The expression “edge nucleus” thus makes it possible, first of all, to radically evacuate representations in rigid boxes with borders or in limiting and excluding compartments. (…)
Let’s take an artistic example: music and dance. Considering them as practices strongly marked by the historical setting of discipline, they are clearly separated. You are a musician, or you are a dancer; you teach (you go to) a music or dance class. There are compartments, boxes or pipelines on both sides. Crossbreeding is possible, but it’s rare and difficult, and when it does take place, it’s in an exclusive way: you’re here or there, on one side or the other, each time you have to cross a border.
Considering music and dance as daily human practices, they are extremely intertwined: to make music is to have a body in movement; to dance is to produce sounds. Since 2016, an action-research was conducted between PaaLabRes and Ramdam, an art center. It involved people who are rather musicians (us, members of PaaLabRes), other rather dancers (members of the Maguy Marin company), a visual artist (Christian Lhopital), and regular guests in connection with the above networks. We’ve been experimenting with improvisation protocols on shared materials. In the realizations, each everyone makes sounds and movements in relation to the sounds and movements of others, each is both a musician and a dancer. For me, the status of the body (the gestures including those for making music, the care, the sensations, and the fatigue) is very different from the one I have in a rehearsal or a concert of a music group. It is even richer and more intense. With the vocabulary used in the previous paragraphs, in these realizations I am in a form of “tâ/ache blanche” (white/blank task/spot) dance-music edge or fringe. A first assessment that we are in the process of drawing up shows that going beyond our disciplinary boxes (exploding the border, making the edge exist) is difficult. [Sidoroff, 2018b, p. 265]

Situated Creation, example of sound of roulèr

One of the expressions that synthesizes a common thread of my practices is that of “situated collective creation”. The creation in question is as much about sound production as it is about knowledge. Such a creation is on the scale of the group in question, and it can be a small, very localized discovery. It will not necessarily be a novelty for the whole world, but already a simple thing not yet known (unheard of) for/in/by the collective in presence. Let’s assume, for example, that we try to have a roulèr sound (large diameter bass drum typical of Réunion Island) on a recording, in material conditions where you can’t have a roulèr and the recording equipment in the same place? To try, to search, to experiment, should allow us to find something. Alain Péters, for example, has successfully recorded the equivalent of a kayamb (also typical of the Réuion Island, a wooden frame which encloses stems of reed which enfold seeds) by rubbing plastic bags! [Poulot, 2016, 31’45-32’02] The anecdote is well-known in the world of Réunionese music sound recordings. And as for us, we realized that we were getting the equivalent of a roulèr sound for the groove we were looking for, with a soft gong beater hitting the very slightly relaxed skin of a medium conga, picking up the sound quite close to the place of impact… (See the intro of the song “Traka” in Mawaar [2020]). We’re really not sure if we were the first in the world to do it, but we invented on the spot a solution we didn’t have before, with the material available around us to get to something we were satisfied with, just as we were starting to think we were going to give up the idea (and therefore have to musically invent something else).
This first story might suffice for the small point I was trying to illustrate: a “creation” for us, without any pretension of historical primacy, invented by and for us (there were two of us working on looking for the roulèr sound for a group of eight). This is the account of which I have a trace in my notes of that day: “trouvaille: son roulèr, conga med. bag. blanche *”. The whole process leading to this “trouvaille” is hidden behind this word written too quickly. The “*” is a sign to say: come back to it quickly enough to describe this in detail. Because such a narrative is not adequate, it leads one to believe in a creation of a technical order (using this instrument in this way) without further interaction. The formula “something we were satisfied with, just as we were starting to think we were going to give up the idea” is too quick a shortcut. We need to be more precise, otherwise important elements remain implicit. And these can limit understanding and lead to the belief that these are simple recipes that can be copied and pasted as they are, whereas they are extremely situated and interact with many other aspects. Saying “a roulèr sound” without specifying the context does not make much sense. Adding “for the groove we were looking for” is a good start but still doesn’t say much. You have to take the minimum precaution to localize the action and not to generalize it too quickly.

This sound of roulèr in interaction

So, let’s take the time for a more detailed account. Since the day I wrote this note with an asterisk showing that I wanted to return to it, four layers of writing have been added, leading to the one presented here. These four layers come one after another. The first one is given above, then shortly after came the second one that is shown below. Because this second account was still passing too fast in one place, we needed a third one. Several rewritings were necessary. And finally a fourth narrative corresponds to this version in this article. It benefited from both the broadening of the audience and from several sharings and discussions in closed circles (thanks!).
Let’s go back to that moment of recording the roulèr sound. And so let’s start by saying more exactly: we ended up finding the sound of roulèr that suited us (and this was not immediately achieved) in one particular use (among many others possible) of this sound at this place, namely the intro of a song (and not at another musical moment). The roulèr can also be the basis of dance music in a percussion ensemble, and is often struck with open hands, with strong impacts to support the global dynamic. This is not the sound we found. But it’s the one we were looking for, at the beginning. The initial idea was to reinforce the already recorded bass drum. We then tried on a bass drum different skin tensions of both the striking drumhead and the resonant one. We put different fabrics inside this bass drum, more or less leaning on one or both skins, tapping with different parts of the hand at different places of the skin, with different sticks or beaters, etc. In fact, it went quite fast: on the one hand we had already discussed it several times before and made tests in the rehearsal room when we were working on the Réunionese music, looking for a sound equivalent to the bass drum while the full group was playing; and on the other hand I had tried things alone with a view to recording such a part by phonically isolating this instrument from the rest. We tried a few more times all together, but we didn’t get close to what suited us. We switched to a low tomtom, without more success. Because the first lead, transforming the use of a drum element, turned out to be not very fruitful, looking around, we then began to tap-listen a little everywhere. We were two people in a music room with several instruments. I remember having also tried different strikes on the two tables present, more or less close to the edge, by putting the ear in different places to seek a sound quality and its resonance. It was a time of wandering, and, in retrospect, we can highlight two moments among many others. On the one hand, the moment when we made the skin of the medium conga to resonate, but we didn’t stop there directly and said: “This is it”. And on the other hand, the moment when we told ourselves that we could change our musical idea, by looking not for a reinforcement but for a complement to the sound. This one-word change implied both a slight modification of the arrangement we had begun with (the roulèr equivalent would have to start earlier), and also to find the minimum reinforcement necessary for the existing bass drum, by a particular mix on the passage in question: a mix of the bass with the midrange of one of the guitars, and with the roulèr equivalent (that we hadn’t have yet found). And we had also to pay attention to the placement of the triangle at the top of the sound spectrum in order to achieve this: the sound of one instrument is a function of – almost – all the others. We were sufficiently advanced in the mixes to know this was possible, otherwise we would have probably tried a little to verify this possibility.
But here again, it is interesting to press “pause” and take the time to unfold all that is crushed in the shortcut I just used. To tell it like this is to summarize-condense a posteriori… Let’s go back to the beginning of this wandering time. There were no verbal exchange of the type: “We wanted a reinforcement, let’s go to a complement!” that led to everything that followed. In these moments of tinkering, there is little talk of precise (and meaningfully relevant at the first attempt) concepts, although many are present and implicit, which no two persons bring to awareness or verbalize in the same way. Unfortunately, I don’t have an exact record of what we said to each other at that moment. But I have been in many such situations in my musical life. The dialogue must have sounded like this:

“- We are not getting there” {Share the dead ends, check and agree that we are both facing them}.
“– What can we do?” {Asking this question may seem useful, it is implied in the “yeah” of the head or the look exchanged after the first observation. But it gives a little time to think, and in case the friend facing you has something to answer, maybe with words, because the person asking the question doesn’t know yet what to do…}
“– Find other things!” {Easy solution! But the word “things” comes in very handy in these cases. Here, it can evoke both sounds, ways of going about it and/or reconsidering the question, etc. It is sufficiently imprecise to open up potentially different avenues for each of us, but not too much because we remain clinging to the shared problem at the outset, in the situation that is a little more knowledgeable because of the noted dead-end. Thus, behind such “other things” [in French “autre chose”, singular, sounds the same as the plural “autres choses”], are mixed together a) other sounds that continue to evoke the roulèr, b) other uses of this musical idea in connection with other choices of arrangement, c) other possibilities of recording and/or mixing, etc. We didn’t spell it all out, the three words above were just a signal that all these things and more were entering into the process. They take longer to describe than it took us to find our particular solution}

Once the dead-end was shared and this search for other things was underway, our ears opened to other types of sounds (like an ecology of the imaginary?). We listen again to (almost) all the sounds we had tried since the beginning of our research. The medium conga had been put aside because of (what we thought was) the too small size of its skin, but it reappeared. We realized that we found then a satisfying beginning of a lead (finally!), in particular using this big beater of classical music percussion used for example on the gongs (which we had recorded in the previous session). It only remained to refine this promising lead to the best possible result. And refining that, also meant refining everything else in an all-inclusive movement, especially in terms of arrangement and mixing preparation. The sound volume promised to be considerably lower than fully hitting the roulèr, but we knew we could work it into the mix. So, we looked for a more precise hit and microphone placement to get the best complement sound. Again, I use the term “complement”, but it was not present at the time of the experimental actions and gestures. The formalization of the transition from reinforcement to complement, with this choice of words, came later. I don’t remember exactly when this verbalization became settled, but it wasn’t while the sound recording was being refined. At this point, we started by striking the conga, while listening, and commenting only about the place of the microphone or of the hit, without making sentences, with help of a few words and mostly gestures. But it could be verbalized afterwards, in times of re-listening to the takes. During these moments, the time is calmer: we move into a different place, there is a displacement between the position of play and listening to the take, which takes a little time. And there, it was easier to use more complete sentences to comment what we heard and to project ourselves in what to do next. And it is quite possible that the two words “reinforcement” and “complement” were not the first ones that came to us to qualify what happened; in any case, they are the ones that remain afterwards. They are a construction that took its time, like the use of this medium conga.

The small situated creation that I have just described is therefore not only a technical trouvaille, as the first shortened account could let believe it.[5] But it is a rich interaction around the sound quality: between its musical use in a complex of other sonorities (place, role and arrangement), the instrument producing it to be heard, its playing, its recording and its mixing. We did not act or think in boxes or walls separating too strictly « sound engineer » or « instrumentalist ». It was the fact of crossing such walls that allowed us to build that day a sound that we were missing. In our experimentations and trials, we obviously took into account the playing (the gestures to obtain the sound) and the recording-mixing. But in an inextricable way, came to be intertwined considerations of arrangement, production of the record (time and places available to be able to record this track, then to mix this piece, the album), of instrumental tinkering, etc. Have we inhabited an edge, even if only very locally? Or rather: have we crossed many borders, happily and several times in all directions? A few years ago, I would have answered « edges, of course » without hesitation, and insisting on the plural. Today I don’t find the answer so easy. I would need to qualify more and better such edges: work in progress!

In what I condense with the formula “situated collective creation”, the word “situated” describes both the context of a moment or circumstance as described above, but also that of a particular story, in a larger temporality. I met Réunionese music with people who play it and know a lot about it, and I quickly enjoyed playing and discussing it. So, I spent some time with them, especially by playing this music. (I have been doing the same thing for several years with roots reggae.) I could have met people and groups doing rap or electro or other things, then I would have probably spent time on such music and practices.

Musical Practices from the Réunion Island

The second kind of music I practice comes from Réunion Island. In these small islands called Mascarene Islands in this part of the Indian Ocean, there is specific music called maloya and séga. And I’ve been playing this music with people from the Réunion Island for about twenty years, principally as trumpet player in a brass section.

Maloya reappeared on the forefront in the 1970s thanks to the communists and the independentists. It was also during this period that reggae made its international breakthrough, after rock and amplified music developed on the island, and not just to be listened to. They were played, appropriated and tinkered with locally, becoming “electric maloya” [Compilations 2016a, 2016b, 2017]. Then, what is called malogué or maloggae (a mixture of maloya and reggae) develop. It has become a very modern mixture, nourished by traditional music, popular music and music of the moment. I play with a family that came to France thirty years ago. This malogué, sega and seggae music was played in the group Margoz then Koodakood, with notably the father who sang, played bass and directed the ensemble, and his son who sang and played drums. He was not yet 18 years old when I met him. And he was about ten years old when the malogué was created, he couldn’t reach the bass drum pedal! Today, the band has reconfigured itself on a roots reggae base, it’s called Mawaar. It means “I’ll see” in Réunionese language, a good part of it is sung in Creole. And we are still working on this Réunionese music, even if we don’t play on stage anymore. The father I was talking about is on the bass, and it’s the son who is very active. He plays guitar and drums, he sings, he is one of those who bring a lot of music.

Reggae, maloya, malogué come musically “from below”, in the way Louis Staritzky speaks of urban experimentation [2018]. To put it in terms of the idea of walls: these kinds of music and musical practices come from outside the massive and solidified walls of already established structures. It would be interesting to look at the appearance of this maloya-reggae music (this creolization), with the epistemologies of the South, starting with the work of Boaventura de Sousa Santos[6], for example “The sociology of absences and emergences” [2011, pp. 34-58, §43-60; 2016, chap. VI, pp. 241-273]. Sociology of absences: “an investigation whose aim is to explain that what does not exist is in fact actively produced as non-existent, that is, as a non-credible alternative to what does exist” [2016, p. 251]. Sociology of emergences: “an investigation into the alternatives contained in the horizon of concrete possibilities” [2016, p. 269]. This will have to be left for a future occasion,[7] perhaps in connection with Youcef Chekkar who conducts his research with such approaches on the “usages of cinema in the post-civil war Algerian context” [2018].

I would like to approach this creation by digging a little deeper into the notion of edge. Emmanuel Hocquard gave consistency to this notion as something made possible by the action of translating, with this double affirmation about American poetry translated into French:

– “A French poet would never have written that.”
– Perhaps we could express the same thing in this way: “An American would never have written that.” [1997, §5 et 5bis; 2001, pp. 403-404]

The malogué or seggae are typically in this kind of situation: reggae groups would never have played like that, neither would maloya or séga groups. There is a filiation, a relationship, but with the fabrication of a distance and a ground that Emmanuel Hocquard seeks [1997, §3; 2001, p. 403]. These styles of music are at the same time very similar and very different. I propose to you three compilations sweeping the 1980s and 1990s: one of roots reggae, another one of maloya, and a third one of malogué, in order to go from one to the others..

Reggae Roots :
Maloya :
Malogué[8] :

Even if a single compilation can’t show the immense variety of each of these stylistic labels, each one provides a few names as so many different leads to go further. Even if the encounters are more between individuals and groups, singularities and subjectivities at a precise moment, rather than between stylistic groupings constructed after the fact, there is, between these three “genres”, an intensity of both dissimilarities and similarities. They are fundamentally different but in very close complicity and kinship.

NAÉSSAYÉ, second verse and refrain in the song “Na Éssayé” by Philippe Lapotaire [1991]:
Ti pren un maloya, pou mélange avec reggae, Yé, yé, yé
Tout’ danse dan mon vie, maloya ou bien reggae, Yé, yé, yé
La misik lé pareil, mé le style li la change un pé, Yé, yé, yé
Pou zèn Réyonés, nou vé pa trompe nout bann vié, Yé, yé, yé
Sak mi di zordi :
Na essayé ouh, na mélanzé, Na essayé, na essayé, na mélangé,
Na essayé ouh un malogué, Na essayé, na essayé, un malogué.

[Take a maloya, to mix it with a reggae, Yé, yé, yé
Dance in my life, maloya or reggae, Yé, yé, yé
The music is the same, but the style has changed a bit, Yé, yé, yé
For the youth of Réunion Island, we are not going to deceive our elders, Yé, yé, yé
I say today:
We tried it, we mixed it up (bis)
We tried a malogué (bis)].

My exploration on edges of activities at the edges looks for those moments and places based on “this, never a person focused primarily on creation (or on performance or research or whatever) would have done it”, and all the reciprocal statements to it. One of the phenomena of Edouard Glissant’s creolization is also found in such a statement as “never that but in fact yes”. The « never » is easy in the formula but is often a bit too abrupt. Let’s continue the explorations!

 

In certain contexts, approaching the notion of a dividing wall (notably between the categories of activities) as an edge of possibilities seems to me to be interesting. An edge is a space and a time that can be occupied in different ways, in it one is able to develop activities. These types of space-time can be inhabited by bringing elements coming from many other times and spaces together, with the possibility of experimenting new things.

 


References

All Web URLs were accessed on February 28th, 2021.

CARTON, Luc. (2005). « Forum sur l’éducation permanente ». Dans Santé conjuguée, n°32, avril 2005, pp. 6-10. (Intervention à Namur le 19 février 2005, retranscrite par Christian Legrève) <pdf on line>.

CHEKKAR, Youcef. (2018). « Du cinéma en Algérie ? Mais bien sûr ! », dans Agencements, Recherches et pratiques sociales en expérimentation, n°2. Rennes: éd. du commun, pp. 124-150 <revue, pdf on line>.

CHEKLAB, Myriam & LAVAL, Léa. (2019). « Recherche en lutte et lutte en recherche », dans Agencements, n°3. Rennes: éd. du commun, pp. 60-175 <revue, pdf on line>.

CNRTL. Portail lexical du Centre national de ressources textuelles et lexicales.

COLLECTIF-EN-DEVENIR. (2016). Fanzine Lapalissade #1« Évaluation ». Autoprod. <on line>.

COMPILATION. (2016a). Soul Sok Séga, séga sounds from Mauritius, 1973-1979 [CD]. !K7 Records, Strut Records, STRUT139CD. (Compiled by Natty Hô and Konsöle / La Basse Tropicale), <on bandcamp>.

COMPILATION. (2016b). Soul Séga sa! indian ocean segas from the 70’s (1975-1978 Île Maurice, Réunion, Seychelles) [CD]. Folkwelt, Bongo Joe, BJR003. (Selection by Cheb Chalet), <on bandcamp>.

COMPILATION. (2017). Oté Maloya 1975-1986, La naissance du maloya électrique à la Réunion [CD]. !K7 label, Strut Records, STRUT151CD. (Compiled by La Basse Tropicale: DJ KonsöLe aka Antoine Tichon, and DJ Natty Ho aka Dinh Nguyen), <on bandcamp>.

Décret n°84-431 du 6 juin 1984 fixant les dispositions statutaires communes applicables aux enseignants-chercheurs (Decree n°84-431 of June 6, 1984 establishing the common statutory provisions applicable to teacher-researchers),et portant statut particulier du corps des professeurs des universités et du corps des maîtres de conférences, <legifrance>.

DHLF, for Dictionnaire historique de la langue française. REY, Alain (dir.). (1998). Paris: Dictionnaire Le Robert.

GANN, Kyle. (2012). Breaking the Chain Letter: An Essay on Downtown Music. (first version in 1998). <on line>.

HOCQUARD, Emmanuel. (1997). « Taches blanches », in Le « Gam », n°2, Format Américain, Un bureau sur l’Atlantique. This text is reproduced in Ma haie [2001], pp. 401-413 et <on line>.

HOCQUARD, Emmanuel. (2000). « Faire quelque chose avec ça ». In Esteban, Claude, Hourcade, Rémy, & Hocquard, Emmanuel (dir.). À Royaumont: traduction collective 1983-2000, une anthologie de poésie contemporaine. Grâne: éd. Creaphis, pp. 399-407). This text is reproduced in Ma haie [2001], pp. 517-526.

HOCQUARD, Emmanuel. (2001). Ma haie: Un privé à Tanger II. Paris: P.O.L.

LAVAL, Léa. (2016). « Poser l’éducation populaire entre savoirs et émancipation: des pratiques en recherche », dans Recherches & éducations, n°16, « Émancipation et formation de soi, T2 » pp. 102-113 <doi.org>.

LAVAL, Léa. (2019). Travailler les savoirs pour une université autrement populaire. Dialogues entre critiques en acte de l’université et pratiques en recherche de l’éducation populaire. Thèse de doctorat en sciences de l’éducation, Université de Paris VIII Vincennes-Saint-Denis, sous la direction de Jean-Louis Le Grand.

LEWIS, George E. (1996). « Improvised Music after 1950: Afrological and Eurological Perspectives », dans Black Music Research Journal (BMRJ), vol. 16, n°1. Champaign (IL): Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois <pdf version>.

LEWIS, George E. (2004). “Afterwords to « Improvised Music after 1950 »: The Changing Same”, dans Fischlin D. & Heble A. (eds). The Other Side of Nowhere, Jazz Improvisation, and Communities in Dialogue. Middeltown (CO): Wesleyan University Press, pp. 163-172.

LEWIS, George E. (2008). A Power Stronger Than Itself: The AACM and American Experimental Music. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

LITTRÉ, Émile. (1874). Dictionnaire de la langue française. Paris: Hachette. Electronic version created by François Gannaz <littre.org>.

MANOUCHIAN, Collectif. (2012). Dictionnaire des dominations, de sexe, de race de classe. Paris: éd. Syllepse. (Saïd Bouamam (dir.), Jessy Cormont, Yvon Fotia). The foreword is reproduced on line in <blog de Médiapart>.

MAWAAR. (2020). “Traka”, in Lé Valab’ [CD]. Pass’Message, RR 97-4.69, <on bandcamp>.

MORVAN, Alexia. (2011). Pour une éducation populaire politique: À partir d’une recherche-action en Bretagne. Thèse de doctorat en sciences de l’éducation, Université de Paris VIII Vincennes-Saint-Denis, sous la direction de Jean-Louis Le Grand. <pdf on line>.

NAÉSSAYÉ. (1991). “Na Essayé”, in Oté la sere [CD]. Discorama, PSB 747, 9101 CD.

PIERREPONT, Alexandre. (2015). La Nuée, l’AACM: un jeu de société musicale. Paris: éd. Parenthèses, coll. eupalinos, série Jazz et musiques improvisées.

POULOT, Alix. (2016). Alain Peters (Hommage à) Il était une fois… 1991 à 2016 . (Editing of different documents related to Alain Peters), <on youtube>.

RAS NATY BABY. (2009). “Mo la muzik”, in Live [CD]. Digital Island, Discorama, 2009.04.

seggaeman974R (compil). (2012). « Le maloya des années 80/90 » [Vidéo] (on line 30 november, 30th 2012) <on youtube>.

seggaeman974R (compil). (2014). « kiltir malogué (maloggae) » [Vidéo (statique)] (on line january 17th 2014) <on youtube>.

SIDOROFF, Nicolas. (2018a). « Faire quelque chose avec ça que je voudrais tant penser&nbps;», in Agencements, Recherches et pratiques sociales en expérimentation, n°1. Rennes: éd. du commun, pp. 41-72, <revue, pdf on line>.

SIDOROFF, Nicolas. (2018b). «&nbps;Explorer les lisières d’activité, vers une microsociologie des pratiques (musicales) », in Agencements, n°2. Rennes: éd. du commun, pp. 248-274, <revue, pdf on line>.

de SOUSA SANTOS, Boaventura. (2011). «&nbps;Épistémologie du Sud », in Études rurales, n°187, Le sens du rural aujourd’hui, pp. 21-50. (Trans.: Magali Watteaux), <on line>.

de SOUSA SANTOS, Boaventura. (2016). Épistémologie du Sud, Mouvements citoyens et polémiques sur la science. Paris: Desclée de Brouwer.

STARITZKY, Louis. (2018). « Le droit à la ville: une expérimentation urbaine par le bas », dans Agencements, n°1. Rennes: éd. du commun, pp. 143-159 <revue, pdf on line>.

Warrior F. a B. W. Selekta (compil). (2016). « Strictly reggae roots from 80’s & 90’s ». [Vidéo (statique)] (on line december, 9th 2016) <on youtube>.

 

 


Notes

[1]. Cefedem AuRA [Centre de formation des enseignants de la musique, Center for music teacher training ], Center of professional resources and artistic higher education.

[2]. A reduced combination called Petit Goulash, proposed two versions of “Schème Moteur” by Alain Savouret in the 2017 edition “Graphic Scores” of this site PaaLabRes.

[3]. This place is a very beautiful source of music, stories and knowledge about the so-called “downtown” scenes. See for example, the impressive emails sent every week presenting a great number of records, with in particular Emanuel ‘MannyLunch’ Maris and Bruce Lee Gallanter (nicknamed “Downtown Musicologist Emeritus”).

[4]. See notably the second part of “‘Au-delà des catégories‘ : alors quoi de nouveau ?”, and more precisely the note 2 concerning the distinction between uptown and downtown.

[5]. And this second account is not yet sufficient, we could still describe others that would detail or specify these interactions, and perhaps help to qualify areas of edges. For example, using a recording of the session and a self-confrontation discussion (but the microphones had to record the upcoming roll, the testimonial camera is not in our habits), or with accounts from other points of view, including that of the colleague with whom I was experimenting that day (I am planning to do this), etc.

[6]. Boaventura de Sousa Santos is Portuguese and is part of the World Social Forum adventure. He has worked in South America, studying subordinate and dominated communities, how they organize themselves and how they use and produce knowledge not recognized or not taken into consideration by colonizers and Westerners. And he has brought this expression to the forefront: “The Epistemologies of the South”. It is very interesting to observe how, now, more and more work at the university is asking these kinds of questions: the domination still remains that of the objectivity of whites, of the North, of the West… (we do not all have the same relationship to a blank spot or a white stain).

[7]. We (with all the colleagues with whom I played this music and still play music based on it) have not yet explored this question sufficiently. On the one hand, the 1970s and 1980s see very rich changes occurring in Réunion Island; and on the other hand, once released, especially after the record Oté La sere by NAÉSSAYÉ in 1991, the malogué came out of an absence of visibility and emerged! It would be interesting to better explain the passage from an experiment of what is possible under the instituted radars to a visibility leading to productions and support of public policies. In any case it would be better than the too big shortcuts that have just been used.

[8]. In a little less than 30min, these 19 representative pieces give a good idea of what the richness of the encounter between reggae and maloya can be. NB: the youtube channel seggaeman974R is very rich in titles and rarities on Réunionese music.
To have an idea of séga and seggae, see for example the intro of the first piece de l’album Live of Ras Natty Baby [2009] : the very beginning drums and percussions is séga, the entry of brass at 0’40 after the great “Rastafari…” passes to the seggae which can really be heard from 0’47… The youtube channel joliememzelle also has beautiful collections of historical albums of music from the Mascarene Islands.

 

Post Scriptum:

In a voluntary and militant way, I practice inclusive writing. And I do it in the following way: I use expressions such as “ille” [combination of he and she] or “celleux” [“those” at the same time feminine and masculine] or with a single middle point as in musicien·nes or chercheur·ses. This typography seems to me to be the best point of (dis)balance between signifying existence by making them visible to people other than cis-genre males, and keeping a fluidity of reading. The double-flexion consists in saying or writing: “he and she”, it still makes a binarity to exist. The expression “ille” seems to me to be both very readable and understandable. And it is a new word that is not yet very common, nor in dictionaries. That is to say, we have to construct a meaning for it… it is both a “il” [he] and a “elle” [she]? but not exclusively? But why not exclusively? So maybe something like… “yel” or some other pronoun that some people prefer to be used to talk about “iel” or “ile”, rather than using “il” or “elle”? Perhaps we are participating in the invention of a new grammatical genre? I allow myself a “we” because this type of reflection and practice is shared in several networks in which I participate. We often make these elements explicit in connection with this writing practice, for example at the beginning of a document or in a footnote.
It’s the same thing with a median point. Reading “chacun·e” is easy, we quickly get used to it, and it’s not only “chacun et chacune” [“each” masculine and femine], they are living beings, with all the imaginable diversities, and even with others that we still can’t properly imagine. And for me, a single point is enough for this small disturbance, it remains readable while pointing out these questionings.
Other questions remain open… Which passage to the oral out of the double-flexion to overcome the binarity? (a neutral genre to be developed with an oral declination seems to be an interesting track, see for example in french the thesis work of Alpheratz). Who works on these subjects and from what positions? On whose backs is this form of writing practiced? To be continued.

 

Nicolas Sidoroff – Français

 

Access to the English translation: “You said… Edge?” (Nicolas Sidoroff – English)

 


 

Vous avez dit… lisière ?

Nicolas Sidoroff (janvier 2021).

Sommaire :

Quelques occupations (d’où je parle)
Avec des multiples « mi-temps »
En termes d’aventures musicales

À propos de lisières
Emmanuel Hocquard…
…et une ta/âche…
…blanche.
Donc des vigilances à avoir

Habiter une, des lisières ?
Être musicien et danseur
Créer en situation, exemple d’une sonorité de roulèr
Cette sonorité de roulèr en interactions
Quelques musiques de l’île de la Réunion

Références

 


 

Quelques occupations (d’où je parle)

Je suis musicien>militant<chercheur… Mes deux occupations principales, faire de la musique et de la recherche, sont reliées. Elles relaient et contribuent à des pratiques de transformations sociales que je souhaiterais, que l’on souhaiterait émancipatrices. Je suis obligé de passer à un « on » qui rassemble plusieurs groupes et collectifs au travail dans trois dimensions co-extensives : une critique des systèmes de domination, une construction d’alternatives et une critique de ces mêmes alternatives… Les pratiques musicales sont le domaine dans lequel j’ai le plus de connaissances des dominations et alternatives, et dans lequel j’ai grand plaisir à m’impliquer ; et les pratiques de recherche m’outillent joyeusement pour développer à la fois critiques et alternatives.

Avec des multiples mi-temps

Je me présente souvent en addition de « mi-temps » (pas uniquement parce que cette expression désigne aussi la pause et des moments informels entre deux parties !). Ainsi, j’arrive à avoir plus de deux demi-temps… Cela dit que 1/ « ça déborde ! », que 2/ aucun mi-temps prend exclusivement tout mon temps, et que 3/ des éléments se retrouvent à la fois dans l’un et l’autre. Le fait d’être dans un de ces « mi-temps » ne veut pas dire que les autres sont mis de côté ou en sommeil. Le jeu n’est pas à somme nulle où chacun·e[1] aurait tant de points d’énergie à répartir ici ou là (comme si un « ici » ne pourrait pas être « là » aussi). C’est en fait très différent : de nombreuses activités participent en plein à tel mi-temps, et aussi à tels autres.
Ainsi, avoir trois mi-temps me paraît dire mieux ce que je vis que d’avoir un temps plein et demi, même si mathématiquement cela semble identique. La troisième mi-temps est souvent une manière de décrire les temps informels si importants qui suivent un moment plus explicite et identifié, souvent plus officiel et réglé. Et s’il y en a une troisième, où est la quatrième, celle des rangements, du retour chez soi, du bilan, etc. ? Le chiffre « 3 » m’évoque une multiplicité, des interactions, une ouverture. J’y vois et ressens plus de joies que dans la formulation « temps plein et demi ». Même si celle-ci évoque une globalité intéressante (c’est bien moi à chaque fois), elle me semble mettre l’accent aussi plus directement sur une unicité fermée, la fatigue pesante et le débordement douloureux. C’est-à-dire que cette expression « mi-temps » que j’utilise est symbolique. Elle ne dit rien du temps réel passé à, de la charge de travail demandée par, de la régularité et des formes d’intensité, du ou des statuts, du ou des contrats de travail associés. Par exemple, le Décret n°84-431 du 6 juin 1984 « fixant les dispositions statutaires communes applicables aux enseignants-chercheurs », il est écrit « Les enseignants-chercheurs ont une double mission d’enseignement et de recherche. » [art. 2] ; et la description du temps de travail s’explicite ainsi :

Le temps de travail de référence, correspondant au temps de travail arrêté dans la fonction publique, est constitué pour les enseignants-chercheurs :
1° Pour moitié, par les services d’enseignement (…)
2° Pour moitié, par une activité de recherche (…) [art. 7]

Dans un même emploi, il est donc fait mention de deux « moitiés » de temps.

Un de ces « mi-temps » correspond à mon travail de formateur-chercheur au Cefedem[2] Auvergne Rhône-Alpes (un mi-temps contractualisé comme tel, mais l’activité réelle fait beaucoup plus). Je travaille principalement dans le programme de Formation diplômante en cours d’emploi. Nous formons par la recherche au DE (Diplôme d’État, équivalent L3) de « professeur de musique », professeur·e de l’enseignement musical spécialisé, c’est-à-dire dans les écoles de musique de toutes formes, dont les conservatoires.

Et dans quelques autres « mi-temps », je mène des recherches (par exemple avec le collectif PaaLabRes). Dans ces mêmes temporalités, je suis doctorant à l’Université Paris VIII, Vincennes à Saint-Denis, en sciences de l’éducation, dans le laboratoire Experice (Centre de Recherche Interuniversitaire Expérience Ressources Culturelles Éducation), sous la direction de Pascal Nicolas-Le Strat. Je travaille sur les pratiques musicales et sur la manière dont plusieurs personnes font de la musique ensemble, notamment autour des questions de coopération et de division du travail [2018b]. Dans cette université, entre étudiant·es, on a constitué le Collectif-en-devenir, pour se serrer les coudes, faire collectif dans nos recherches et travailler l’université selon nos expériences et nos idées [2016, par exemple]. Et en lien avec cette entrée dans un parcours universitaire, je participe au réseau des Fabriques de sociologie : « espace de recherche en sciences sociales qui associe des acteurs d’horizons différents (sciences sociales, militantisme, architecture, intervention sociale, littérature, activisme, éducation, santé…) ».

Cette exposition en multiples « mi-temps » est une manière de décrire ma traversée assez continuelle et joyeuse de « murs » entre des catégories qu’un certain nombre de personnes séparent. Par exemple, dans des petites configurations scéniques, il m’arrive très souvent et depuis longtemps de faire le son du groupe en même temps que de jouer de la trompette dans la section de cuivres. J’ai donc plutôt l’impression d’habiter assez régulièrement des « lisières », c’est pourquoi cette notion a fortement résonné et raisonné. J’ai ainsi construit l’expression « noyau à lisières » qui me permet

en premier lieu d’évacuer radicalement des représentations en boîtes rigides à frontières ou en cases limitantes et excluantes. (…) [pour] Regarder les pratiques musicales comme interaction et articulation de six « noyaux à lisières », chacun correspondant à une famille d’activité : création, performance, médiation-formation, recherche, administration, technique-lutherie. [Sidoroff, 2018b, p. 265]

En termes d’aventures musicales

Pour ce qui concerne les pratiques musicales, je joue principalement dans deux collectifs qui sont deux aventures d’une vingtaine d’années aujourd’hui.
Le premier (parce que le plus ancien même s’il est difficile de dater un commencement) peut se qualifier de « post-improvisation » : de la musique pas forcément improvisée mais rendue possible parce que nous aimons et pratiquons l’improvisation dans différents contextes. Le type de musique se rapproche du style downtown. Disons pour aller un peu vite : musique expérimentale et ouverte (voir par exemple les aventures Miss Goulash[3] et Spirojki, ou alors le projet « Bateau Ivre » de gsubi). L’expression a son origine dans la ville de New York, mais beaucoup de gens jouent cette musique downtown sans habiter New York. Et c’est la deuxième génération qu’on appelle Downtown II. Je me suis approprié progressivement ces termes, en commençant par les écoutes (émerveillées) des galaxies autour de John Zorn et Fred Frith (pour ne prendre que les figures les plus connues), puis la découverte des ressources de la Downtown Music Gallery de New York[4] etc. Et seulement ensuite, j’ai découvert les deux articles de George Lewis (Improvised Music After 1950 [1996] et sa « Postface » [2004][5], traduit dans la première édition du site PaaLabRes) puis celui de Kyle Gann [2012] qui présentent conceptuellement et historiquement ces termes.
Dans ma manière personnelle d’aborder cette musique downtown II, je me suis construit une première génération d’aîné·es et d’ami·es à partir de laquelle je suis parti en musique et en recherche. Illes sont intimement relié·es à l’apparition du free-jazz et tous ces antécédents développements musicaux et politiques. Voir par exemple l’AACM de Chicago, Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians racontée par le même George Lewis [2008 ; Pierrepont, 2015]. Pour moi, la génération suivante, celle qui correspond plus à mon âge et parcours, est en fortes liaisons avec les pratiques libertaires du hardcore post-punk.

Mon autre grande aventure collective vient de l’île de la Réunion. J’en parlerai plus longuement dans la suite, après avoir fait un détour par la notion de lisière.

 

À propos de lisières

Emmanuel Hocquard…

Mon projet de recherche doctorale a pour titre : « Explorer les lisières d’activité, vers une microsociologie des pratiques (musicales) » [Sidoroff, 2018b]. Ce terme de « lisière » m’est apparu extrêmement intéressant dans un article d’Emmanuel Hocquard sur la traduction. Celui-ci est un fabriquant de poésie, au sens multiple d’écrivain, éditeur, traducteur, lecteur public, organisateur, enseignant, etc. Dans cet article, il distingue trois conceptions de la traduction au regard de la limite (la « conception réactionnaire » où la traduction ne peut que trahir), de la frontière (la « conception classique » où la traduction passe d’une langue et culture dans une autre) et la lisière (conception qui « fait de la traduction […] une haie entre les champs de la littérature »). [2001, pp. 525-526].

J’ai partagé cette dernière notion dans cet article après une séance de rencontrimprovisation le 24 avril 2019, avec Yves Favier et György Kurtag, et aussi Jean-Charles François et Gilles Laval de PaaLabRes (ceux-ci étaient déjà plus au courant de mes recherches appuyées sur ce terme compris ainsi). Dans le cadre d’une première rencontre, nous avons joué et discuté au départ des parcours de chacun. Puis nous avons partagé un repas (merci Jean-Charles ;-)) et la vaisselle, etc. ; des dispositifs et des attentions tout autant essentielles que la vérification de la présence d’enceintes sonores et de papier-toilettes, etc.
Et après cette journée, nous voici tous dans cette édition, voir notamment la page-collage « Lisières ».

Je reprends ci-dessous quelques passages déjà publiés, en complétant sur un aspect.

…et une ta/âche…

Je travaille sur les notions de « frontière » et de « lisière » entre différentes activités. (…) Une frontière se franchit au sens épais et consistant du terme, une partie du corps puis l’autre, plus ou moins progressivement. Ce corps a une épaisseur, on est d’un côté et de l’autre d’une ligne ou d’une surface qui fait frontière à un moment. Cela peut créer un balancement, comme des allers-retours en matière de poids du corps au-dessus de cette ligne ou de chaque côté de cette surface, sans déplacement des pieds. Comment passe-t-on une frontière entre plusieurs activités : que se passe-t-il quand je change de « casquette », par exemple entre un espace-temps où je suis compositeur et un autre où je suis régisseur son ? [Sidoroff, 2018a, p. 50]

Emmanuel Hocquard qualifie la lisière de : « tache blanche ». Assez longtemps, j’ai compris et lui ai fait dire « tâche blanche ». L’accent circonflexe avait beaucoup de sens, en évoquant à la fois le travail à faire (par la tâche) et un espace à explorer caractérisé par sa situation entre les choses (par l’adjectif légèrement substantivé de « blanc »). Derrière cela, je comprenais, et comprends encore, une invitation à venir habiter, parcourir et pratiquer de tels espaces. La « tache blanche » est très présente dans les travaux d’Emmanuel Hocquard : elle évoque les endroits inexplorés des cartes géographiques<1997, §2-§3>, où l’on ne pouvait pas encore savoir ce qu’il fallait écrire ni dans quelles couleurs. La « traduction tache blanche » pour lui, une « activité tâche blanche » pour moi, c’est créer des « zones inexplorées (…), c’est gagner du terrain »<1997, §4 et 6bis>. Dans mes habitudes de vocabulaire, je dirais aussi : créer du possible. [Sidoroff, 2018b, pp. 263-264]

…blanche.

Après ces premiers éléments sur les mots « tache » et « tâche », il est nécessaire de s’attarder sur ce mot « blanche ». Il est aussi à explorer… L’adjectif comme le substantif « blanc » est au cœur d’une belle ambivalence entre le plein et le vide, l’addition et le manque, et ils nous obligent à une pensée décoloniale ; obliger au double sens de nous mettre dans la nécessité de, et de nous rendre service.
La couleur « blanche » qualifie ce « qui, combinant toutes les couleurs du spectre solaire, a la couleur de la neige, du lait, etc. » [Cnrtl I.A.1]. Nous voyons ces couleurs se décomposer avec un prisme, ou avec des gouttes d’eau donnant alors un arc-en-ciel, ou encore en regardant la surface d’une bulle de savon. Le code de couleur RGB hexadécimal du blanc est #ffffff, c’est-à-dire tous les curseurs rouge, vert et bleu au maximum. C’est la même chose dans le domaine sonore : un bruit « blanc » se compose de façon égale de toutes les fréquences de l’audible, de l’ensemble du spectre sonore audible avec la même énergie pour chacune des fréquences. Mais une « voix blanche » vient désigner une voix sans timbre à laquelle il manque quelque chose… Un « chèque en blanc » est à la fois vide parce qu’à remplir, et plein de promesses possibles parce que justement on peut le remplir !
Le Dictionnaire historique de la langue française (DHLF) explique : « De bonne heure, l’adjectif se charge de la valeur symbolique de « non terni, pur » (…) Il réalise la valeur négative de « manque » dans un certain nombre d’emplois. » Pendant un discours, un « blanc » désigne un silence, comme un vide qui peut laisser penser les participant·es. C’est aussi l’espace libre, l’interligne qui organise un texte dans une page qu’on qualifie de blanche quand elle ne porte pas encore de traces. L’expression « nuit blanche » dit l’absence de sommeil ou le surcroît d’activités. C’est aussi le cœur d’une cible de tir et par extension la cible elle-même, comme dans l’expression « tirer au blanc », mais « tirer à blanc » c’est pour de faux, alors que « couper à blanc » comme « saigner à blanc » qualifient plutôt le fait d’aller jusqu’au bout et de ne rien laisser. Le mot « blanc » est donc riche dans un contexte d’invitation à explorer…

D’autant plus que « Blanc·he » peut désigner le fait d’appartenir à la race blanche fabriquée par le racisme. Par exemple, le Littré définit l’adjectif « blanc » aussi par la couleur de la neige et du lait. Il ne précise pas la combinaison des couleurs du spectre solaire, ce qui est compréhensible dans le contexte historique d’un dictionnaire de la fin du XIXe siècle. Contexte historique à prendre aussi en compte lorsqu’il écrit pour le substantif : « un blanc, une blanche, homme, femme appartenant à la race blanche. Un blanc et un nègre ; une blanche et une négresse ».
Quand Emmanuel Hocquard exemplifie la « tache blanche » qu’il vient de nommer avec la « carte de l’océan » blanche sur blanc de Lewis Carroll dans La chasse au snark de 1876 [Hocquard, 1997, §1 ; 2001, p. 402], elle est laissée libre à l’imaginaire et aux possibles. Mais une tache blanche dans une zone inexplorée d’une carte géographique évoque aussi le contexte des conquêtes coloniales européennes. Décréter une zone comme inexplorée passe sous silence toute la suite de la phrase : inexplorée pour qui, pour quoi ? C’est souvent plus précisément : une zone pas encore explorée par nous qui nous disons que ce serait bien de le faire, des fois qu’il y ait des choses intéressantes pour nos affaires à nous !
Dans un geste d’exploration, avec quels murs partons-nous construire d’autres murs ?

Donc des vigilances à avoir

Au départ de mon travail de thèse, j’avais nommé une vigilance [2018b, p. 269], comme une manière de garder constamment un regard critique sur mon travail : m’appuyer sur l’éducation populaire politique [Morvan, 2011] et la construction de savoirs sociaux stratégiques [Carton, 2005].
Je préciserai aujourd’hui avec trois aspects complémentaire, pour l’expliciter plus fortement (déjà à moi-même). 1/ Comme leur désignation l’indique, ces savoirs sociaux stratégiques sont des savoirs, ils sont donc construits et à construire. Les travaux de Léa Laval [2016 ; 2019] sont extrêmement précieux pour prendre en compte les processus, méthodes et manières de les établir (les élaborer et partager), et pour considérer les relations entre les activités de recherche et de lutte contre les dominations, avec Myriam Cheklab [2019]. 2/ Ces savoirs sociaux stratégiques ont une dimension « lutte des classes », féministe, non-binaire, décoloniale : fondamentalement intersectionelle. Ne jamais l’oublier quand je travaille aujourd’hui en 2021 sur des pratiques musicales dont un des rhizomes essentiels est le free-jazz afro-américain lié aux luttes pour les droits civiques, sur des pratiques musicales qui revendiquent fabriquer du reggae roots créole réunionnais depuis la France métropolitaine, dans un milieu masculin en extrême majorité, etc. Et 3/ ces savoirs sociaux stratégiques sont situés et conscients de leur situation. Je suis blanc, homme, cis-genre, hétéro, de presque 50 ans… cela commence à faire déjà beaucoup en termes d’avantages et de « privilèges » (voir cette entrée du Dictionnaire des dominations [Manouchian, 2012, pp. 285-288]). Et il faut que je rajoute : doctorant et prof de prof de musique ! Cela triple presque l’intimidation épistémologique depuis la position d’une personne instituée sachante, savante, c’est-à-dire perçue comme remplie de savoirs reconnus et valorisés, valorisables (des savoirs à tendance hégémonique qui font domination). Dire que faire de la recherche c’est en fait intensément douter et poser des questions en partageant une manière de penser (et tout le monde pense !) ; dire qu’être « prof » c’est en fait mettre en place et tenir des dispositifs pour que les personnes qui le vivent apprennent (et tout le monde apprend)… ne suffit pas. C’est en actes et sur la durée que ces dimensions peuvent commencer à se saisir et s’éprouver. L’imaginaire scolaire français a des représentations fortement ancrées.

 

Habiter une, des lisières ?

Être musicien et danseur

L’expression « noyau à lisière » permet donc, en premier lieu d’évacuer radicalement des représentations en boîtes rigides à frontières ou en cases limitantes et excluantes. (…)
Prenons un exemple artistique : la musique et la danse. En les considérant comme pratiques fortement marquées par une histoire de mise en disciplines, elles sont nettement séparées. Tu es musicien·ne, tu es danseur·se ; tu donnes (tu vas à) un cours de musique ou de danse. Il y a des cases, des boîtes ou des tubes d’un côté comme de l’autre. Le croisement est possible mais rare et difficile, et quand il a lieu, c’est de manière exclusive : tu es ici ou là, d’un côté ou de l’autre, tu passes une frontière à chaque fois.
En considérant la musique et la danse comme des pratiques humaines quotidiennes, elles sont extrêmement mêlées : faire de la musique c’est avoir un corps en mouvement ; danser c’est produire des sons. On mène depuis 2016 une recherche-action entre PaaLabRes et Ramdam, un centre d’art. Elle associe des personnes plutôt musiciennes (nous, membres de PaaLabRes), d’autres plutôt danseuses (des membres de la compagnie Maguy Marin), un plasticien (Christian Lhopital), et des invité·es régulièr·es en lien avec les réseaux ci-dessus. On expérimente des protocoles d’improvisation sur des matériaux communs. Dans les réalisations, chacun·e produit des sons et fait des mouvements en rapport aux sons et mouvements des autres, chacun·e est à la fois musicien·ne et danseur·se. Pour moi, l’état de corps (les gestes dont ceux pour faire de la musique, les attentions, les sensations, et la fatigue) sont très différent·es que celui que j’ai dans une répétition ou un concert d’un groupe de musique. Elles sont même beaucoup plus riches et intenses. Avec le vocabulaire utilisé dans les paragraphes précédents, dans ces réalisations je suis dans une forme de lisière tâ/ache blanche danse-musique. Un premier bilan qu’on est en train de tirer montre que dépasser nos boîtes disciplinaires (exploser la frontière, faire exister la lisière) est difficile. [Sidoroff, 2018b, p. 265]

Créer en situation, exemple d’une sonorité de roulèr

Une des expressions qui synthétise un fil conducteur de mes pratiques est celle de « création collective en situation ». La création en question relève autant de la production sonore que de savoirs. Une telle création est à l’échelle du groupe concerné et elle peut être une petite découverte très localisée. Il ne s’agit pas forcément d’une nouveauté inédite pour le monde tout entier, mais déjà une simple chose pas encore connue (inouïe) pour/dans/par le collectif en présence.
Supposons que l’on essaye d’avoir un son de roulèr (tambour basse à gros diamètre typique de l’île de la Réunion) sur un disque, dans des conditions matérielles où l’on ne peut pas avoir un roulèr et le matériel d’enregistrement au même endroit ? On essaye, on cherche, on expérimente, on devrait trouver quelque chose. Alain Péters par exemple a bien enregistré l’équivalent d’un kayamb (tout aussi typique de l’île de la Réunion, un cadre en bois qui enserre des tiges de roseau qui enferment des graines) en frottant des sacs plastiques [Poulot, 2016, 31’45-32’02] ! L’anecdote est connue dans le milieu des prises de son des musiques réunionnaises. Et de notre côté, on s’est aperçu qu’on obtenait l’équivalent d’un son de roulèr pour le groove qu’on cherchait, avec une baguette prévue pour des gongs, tapant sur la peau légèrement détendue d’une conga médium, en prenant le son assez près de l’endroit de la frappe… (voir l’intro de la chanson « Traka » de Mawaar [2020]). On n’est vraiment pas sûr d’être les premiers au monde à l’avoir fait, mais on a inventé sur place une manière qu’on n’avait pas avant, avec le matériel disponible autour de nous pour arriver à quelque chose nous satisfaisant, alors qu’on commençait à se dire qu’on allait abandonner l’idée (et donc devoir inventer musicalement autre chose).
Ce premier récit pourrait suffire pour le petit point que je cherchais à illustrer : une « création » pour nous, sans aucune prétention de primauté historique, inventée par et pour nous (on était deux à travailler pour un groupe de huit). C’est ce récit dont j’ai la trace dans mes notes de ce jour-là : « trouvaille : son roulèr, conga méd. bag. blanche * ». Tout le processus amenant à cette « trouvaille » est caché derrière ce mot écrit trop vite. Le « * » est un signe pour dire : revenir assez vite dessus pour raconter et détailler. Parce qu’un tel récit ne suffit pas, il laisse croire à une création de l’ordre technique-lutherie (utiliser cet instrument ainsi) sans plus d’interactions. La formule « nous satisfaisant, alors qu’on commençait à se dire » est un raccourci trop rapide. Il nous faut être plus précis, sinon des éléments importants sont implicites. Et ceux-ci peuvent limiter la compréhension et laisser croire à des recettes simples, qu’il suffirait de copier-coller telles quelles, alors qu’elles sont extrêmement situées et en interaction avec beaucoup d’autres aspects. Dire « un son de roulèr » sans plus préciser le contexte n’a pas beaucoup de sens. Rajouter « pour le groove qu’on cherchait » commence tout juste mais ne dit pas encore beaucoup. Il s’agit un peu de la précaution minimum pour localiser l’action et ne pas la généraliser trop vite.

Cette sonorité de roulèr en interactions

Prenons alors le temps d’un récit plus détaillé. Celui présenté ici est le résultat de plusieurs couches d’écriture depuis ce jour et cette note sur laquelle je voulais revenir : quatre se sont succédées. La première est ci-dessus, puis est arrivée très vite la deuxième qui commence ci-dessous. La troisième est devenue nécessaire en se rendant compte que ce deuxième récit allait encore trop vite à un endroit. Elle a demandé plusieurs ré-écritures dans l’écriture. Et enfin la quatrième correspond à cette version dans cet article. Elle bénéficie à la fois de l’élargissement des destinataires et de plusieurs partages et discussions dans des cercles proches (merci !).

Revenons à ce moment d’enregistrement du son de roulèr. Et donc commençons par dire plus exactement : on a fini par trouver le son de roulèr qui nous convenait (sous-entendu pas immédiatement) dans une utilisation (parmi de nombreuses autres possibles) de cette sonorité à cet endroit, à savoir l’intro d’une chanson (et pas à un autre moment musical). Le roulèr peut aussi être à la base d’une musique de danse dans un ensemble de percussions, il est alors souvent frappé à pleines mains, avec des impacts marqués pour porter un soutien énergique à la dynamique globale. Ce n’est pas ce son-là qu’on a trouvé. Mais c’est celui qu’on a un peu cherché, au début. L’idée initiale était de renforcer la grosse caisse déjà enregistrée. On a alors essayé différentes tensions de peau d’une grosse caisse de batterie, la peau de frappe et celle de résonance. On a mis différents tissus dans cette caisse, plus ou moins en appui sur une ou les deux peaux, en tapant avec différentes parties de la main à différents endroits de la peau, avec différentes baguettes ou battes, etc. En fait, c’est allé assez vite : d’un côté on en avait déjà discuté avant plusieurs fois et fait des essais dans le local de répétition quand on travaillait les musiques réunionnaises, en cherchant un son équivalent roulèr à la grosse caisse alors que tout le monde jouait ; et d’un autre côté j’avais tenté des choses seul dans une optique d’enregistrer une telle partie en isolant phoniquement cet instrument du reste. On a refait quelques essais ensemble, mais on ne s’approchait pas de ce qui nous convenait. On est passé sur un tom basse, sans plus de succès. La première piste, transformer l’utilisation d’un élément de batterie, se relevant peu fructueuse, on regarde puis on commence à taper-écouter un peu partout. On est deux dans un local de musique avec plusieurs instruments. Je me souviens avoir aussi essayé différentes frappes sur les deux tables présentes, plus ou moins près du bord, en mettant l’oreille à différents endroits pour chercher un son de frappe et sa résonance. C’est un petit temps d’errance, et dans celui-ci, a posteriori, on peut faire ressortir deux moments parmi beaucoup d’autres. D’une part, celui où résonne la peau de la conga médium, mais on ne s’y arrête pas directement en disant « c’est ça ». Et d’autre part, le moment où on se dit qu’on pourrait changer notre idée musicale, en cherchant non pas un renfort mais un complément. Ce changement d’un seul mot implique à la fois une légère modification de l’arrangement sur lequel nous partions (l’équivalent roulèr commencerait plus tôt), et aussi de trouver le minimum de renfort nécessaire de la grosse caisse existante, par un mixage particulier sur le passage en question (donc un mixage particulier de la basse et du médium d’une des guitares, de l’équivalent roulèr qu’on n’avait pas encore, et une attention sur le placement du triangle en haut du spectre sonore pour arriver à cela : le son d’un instrument est fonction de -presque- tous les autres). Et on est suffisamment avancé dans les mixages pour savoir que c’est possible, sinon on aurait sans doute essayé un peu pour vérifier cette possibilité.
Mais là encore, il est intéressant d’appuyer sur « pause » et de prendre le temps de déployer tout ce qui est écrasé dans le raccourci que je viens d’utiliser. Raconter ainsi, c’est résumer-condenser a posteriori… Revenons au début de ce temps d’errance. On n’a pas eu d’échange verbal du type : « on voulait un renfort, passons à un complément ! » qui a entraîné toute la suite. Dans ces moments de bricolage, on parle assez peu en concept précis (et significativement pertinent du premier coup), même si de nombreux sont présents et sous-entendus, que chacun·e ne conscientise ou verbalise pas de la même façon. Je n’ai malheureusement pas de traces exactes de ce qu’on s’est dit à ce moment. Mais j’ai déjà vécu de telles situations dans de nombreux moments de ma vie musicale, le dialogue devait ressembler à :

« – on n’y arrive pas » {Partager les impasses, vérifier et se mettre d’accord qu’on y est tous les deux.}
« – qu’est-ce qu’on peut faire ? » {Poser cette question peut paraître utile, elle est sous-entendue dans le « ouais » de la tête ou le regard échangé après le premier constat. Mais elle laisse un peu le temps de réfléchir, et des fois que l’ami en face ait de quoi répondre, pourquoi pas avec des mots, parce que du côté de celui qui pose la question, il ne sait pas encore bien quoi faire…}
« – trouver autre/s chose/s ! » {Solution facile ! Mais le mot « chose » est très pratique dans ces cas-là. Ici, il peut évoquer à la fois des sonorités, des manières de s’y prendre et/ou de reconsidérer la question, etc. Il est suffisamment imprécis pour ouvrir des pistes potentiellement différentes pour chacun de nous, mais pas trop parce qu’on reste accrochés au problème partagé de départ, dans la situation un peu plus instruite du fait de l’impasse constatée. Ainsi, derrière de telles « autres choses » (qui sonnent identiquement au singulier ou au pluriel), vient se mélanger d’autres sonorités qui continue d’évoquer le roulèr, d’autres emplois de cette idée musicale en lien avec d’autres choix d’arrangement, d’autres possibilités d’enregistrement et/ou mixage, etc. On ne s’est pas explicité tout cela, les trois mots ci-dessus étaient juste le signal que toutes ces choses et d’autres encore étaient en route. Elles prennent plus de temps à décrire qu’il nous en a fallu pour faire la trouvaille en question.}

Une fois l’impasse partagée et cette recherche d’autre/s chose/s en cours, nos oreilles se sont ouvertes à d’autres types de sons (comme une écologie des imaginaires ?). On a ré-entendu (presque) tous les sons qu’on avait essayés depuis le début de notre recherche. La conga médium avait été mise de côté de part (ce qu’on estimait être) la trop petite taille de sa peau de frappe, mais elle a refait apparition. On s’est rendu compte que là on tenait un début de piste satisfaisante (enfin !), notamment avec cette grosse baguette de percussion de musique classique utilisé par exemple sur les gongs (qu’on avait enregistrés à la session précédente). Il ne restait qu’à affiner cette piste au mieux. Et affiner cela, veut aussi dire affiner tout le reste dans un mouvement d’ensemble, notamment en termes d’arrangement et de préparation du mixage. Le volume sonore promettait d’être considérablement plus faible que celui d’un roulèr pleinement frappé, mais on savait qu’on pourrait le travailler au mixage. Alors, on est allé chercher plus précisément la frappe et la place du micro pour obtenir le meilleur complément. De nouveau, j’emploie ce terme de « complément », mais il n’était pas là au moment des actions et gestes de trouvaille. La formalisation du passage d’un renfort à un complément, avec ce choix de mots, est postérieur. Je ne me souviens plus exactement quand cette verbalisation se stabilise, mais ce n’était pendant que l’on affine la prise de son. À ce moment-là, on commence par frapper, écouter, on ne commente que la place du micro ou la frappe, sans faire des phrases, à l’aide de quelques mots et surtout des gestes. Mais elle peut se verbaliser après, dans des temps de ré-écoute des prises. Pendant ces moments, le temps est plus calme : on est à deux endroits différents, il y a un déplacement entre la position de jeu et d’écoute et celle-ci dure un peu. Et là, on utilise plus facilement des phrases complètes pour commenter ce qu’on entend et se projeter dans la suite. Et il est fort possible que les mots « renfort » et « complément » ne soient pas les premiers venus pour qualifier ce qu’il s’était passé ; en tout cas, ce sont ceux qui restent, après. Ils sont une construction qui a pris son temps, comme l’utilisation de cette conga médium.

La petite création localisée que je viens de décrire n’est donc pas qu’une trouvaille technique, comme le premier récit raccourci pouvait le laisser croire[6]. Mais elle est une riche interaction autour de la sonorité : entre son utilisation musicale dans un ensemble d’autres sonorités (place, rôle et arrangement), l’instrument pour la donner à entendre, son jeu, son enregistrement et son mixage. On n’a pas agi ni réfléchi dans des cases ou murs trop strictement « ingénieur·e du son » ou « instrumentiste ». C’est le fait de traverser de tels murs qui nous a permis de construire ce jour-là une sonorité qui nous manquait. Dans nos expérimentations et tâtonnements, on a évidemment en pris en compte le jeu (les gestes pour obtenir le son) et l’enregistrement-mixage. Mais de manière inextricable, sont venues s’entremêler des considérations d’arrangement, de production du disque (temps et lieux disponibles pour pouvoir enregistrer cette piste, puis mixer ce morceau, l’album), de lutherie, etc. Avons-nous pour autant habité une lisière, même très localement ? Ou bien plutôt : avons-nous franchi plein de frontières, allégrement et plusieurs fois de suite dans tous les sens ? Il y a quelques années, j’aurai répondu « lisières, bien sûr » sans hésiter, et en insistant sur le pluriel. Aujourd’hui je ne trouve pas la réponse aussi facile. Il me faudrait plus et mieux qualifier de telles lisières : travail en cours !

Dans ce que je condense avec la formule « création collective en situation », la dernière expression « en situation » décrit à la fois le contexte d’un moment ou d’une circonstance comme décrite ci-dessus, mais aussi celui d’une histoire particulière, dans une temporalité plus large. J’ai rencontré les musiques réunionnaises avec des personnes les jouant et sachant beaucoup de choses, et j’ai eu très vite plaisir à jouer et discuter. Donc j’ai passé du temps avec elleux notamment en jouant ces musiques. (Je fais la même chose depuis plusieurs années avec le reggae roots.) J’aurai pu rencontrer des personnes et groupes faisant du rap ou de l’électro ou d’autres choses, j’aurai alors sans doute passé du temps sur de telles musiques et pratiques.

Quelques musiques de l’île de la Réunion

La deuxième branche de la musique que je pratique vient donc de l’île de la Réunion. Dans ces petites îles dites mascareignes de cette partie de l’Océan Indien, il y a des musiques spécifiques qu’on appelle le maloya et le séga. Et je joue cette musique avec des Réunionnais·es depuis une vingtaine d’années, principalement de la trompette dans une section de cuivres.

Le maloya est ré-apparue sur le devant de la scène dans les années 1970s grâce aux communistes et aux indépendantistes. C’est dans cette période aussi que le reggae a percé internationalement, après que le rock et les musiques amplifiées se soient développées dans l’île, et pas seulement pour être écoutées. Elles ont été jouées, appropriées et bricolées localement devenant « maloya électrique » [Compilations, 2016a, 2016b, 2017]. Alors s’est développé ce qu’on appelle le malogué ou maloggae, mêlant maloya et reggae. C’est devenu un mélange très moderne, nourri de musique traditionnelle, de musique populaire et de musique du moment. Je joue avec une famille qui est venue en France il y a trente ans. On jouait cette musique malogué, séga et seggae dans le groupe Margoz puis Koodakood, avec notamment le père qui chantait, jouait de la basse et dirigeait l’ensemble, et son fils qui chantait et jouait de la batterie. Il n’avait pas encore 18 ans quand je l’ai rencontré. Et il n’avait qu’une dizaine d’années quand le malogué se créait, il n’arrivait pas à atteindre la pédale de grosse caisse ! Aujourd’hui, le groupe s’est reconfiguré sur une base reggae roots et s’appelle Mawaar. Cela veut dire « je verrai » en réunionnais, une bonne partie est chanté en créole. Et on travaille toujours ces musiques réunionnaises, même si on ne les joue plus sur scène. Le père dont je parlais est à la basse, et c’est le fils qui est très actif. Il joue de la guitare et de la batterie, il chante, il est un de ceux qui amènent beaucoup de musique.

Reggae, maloya, malogué viennent musicalement « par le bas », à la manière dont Louis Staritzky parle d’expérimentation urbaine [2018]. Pour le dire avec l’idée de murs : ces musiques et pratiques musicale viennent d’en dehors des murs massifs et solidifiés des structures déjà établies. Il serait intéressant de regarder l’apparition de cette musique maloya-reggae (cette créolisation), avec les épistémologies du Sud, au départ des travaux de Boaventura de Sousa Santos[7], par exemple « la sociologie des absences et des émergences » [2011, pp. 34-58, §43-60 ; 2016, chap. VI, pp. 241-273]. Une sociologie des absences : « une enquête dont le but est d’expliquer que ce qui n’existe pas est en fait activement produit comme non existant, c’est-à-dire comme une alternative non crédible à ce qui existe » [2016, p. 251] ; une sociologie des émergences : « une enquête sur les alternatives contenues dans l’horizon des possibilités concrètes » [2016, p. 269]. Ce sera pour une prochaine fois[8], peut-être en lien avec Youcef Chekkar qui mène sa recherche avec de telles approches sur les « usages du cinéma dans le contexte algérien post-guerre civile » [2018].

Je voudrais aborder cette création en creusant encore un peu la notion de lisière. Emmanuel Hocquard a donné de la consistance à celle-ci comme un possible développé par l’action de traduire, avec cette double affirmation à propos de poésies américaines traduites en français :

– « ça, jamais un poète français ne l’aurait écrit ».
– Peut-être pourrait-on exprimer la même chose de cette façon : « ça, jamais un Américain ne l’aurait écrit ». [1997, §5 et 5bis ; 2001, pp. 403-404]

Le malogué ou le seggae sont typiquement à cet endroit : les groupes de reggae n’auraient jamais joué ça, ceux de maloya ou de séga non plus. Il y a une filiation, une relation mais avec la fabrication d’une distance et d’un terrain comme les cherche Emmanuel Hocquard [1997, §3-4 ; 2001, p. 403]. Ces musiques sont dans le même temps très ressemblantes et très différentes. Je vous propose trois compilations balayant assez largement les années 1980s et 1990s : une de reggae roots, une autre de maloya et une troisième de malogué pour pouvoir passer de l’une à l’autre…

Reggae Roots :
Maloya :
Malogué[9] :

Même si une seule compilation ne peut pas donner à entendre l’immense variété de chacune de ces étiquettes stylistiques, chacune donne quelques noms comme autant de pistes pour aller plus loin. Même si les rencontres se font entre des personnes et des groupes, des singularités et des subjectivités à un moment présent, plutôt qu’entre des catégories stylistiques construites après coup, il y a, entre ces trois « genres » aujourd’hui établis, une intensité à la fois de dissemblances et de rapprochements. Ils sont fondamentalement différents mais en très denses complicités et parentés.

NAÉSSAYÉ, second couplet et refrain de la chanson « Na Éssayé » de Philippe Lapotaire [1991] :
Ti pren un maloya, pou mélange avec reggae, Yé, yé, yé
Tout’ danse dan mon vie, maloya ou bien reggae, Yé, yé, yé
La misik lé pareil, mé le style li la change un pé, Yé, yé, yé
Pou zèn Réyonés, nou vé pa trompe nout bann vié, Yé, yé, yé
Sak mi di zordi :
Na essayé ouh, na mélanzé, Na essayé, na essayé, na mélangé,
Na essayé ouh un malogué, Na essayé, na essayé, un malogué.

Mon exploration sur les lisières d’activités cherche ces moments et lieux d’un « ça, jamais une personne centrée principalement sur la création (ou sur la performance ou la recherche ou autre) ne l’aurait fait », et toutes les réciproques. Un des phénomènes de la créolisation d’Edouard Glissant se trouve aussi dans de tels « ça jamais mais en fait si ». Le « jamais » est facile dans la formule, mais est souvent un peu trop abrupte. Continuons les explorations !

 

Dans certains contextes, approcher la notion de mur de séparation (notamment entre des catégories d’activités) comme une lisière de possible me semble être intéressant. Une lisière est un espace et un temps qui peuvent être occupés de différentes façons, on peut y développer des activités. De tels espaces-temps peuvent être habités en faisant rencontrer des éléments venant de plusieurs autres temps et espaces, on peut y avoir la possibilité d’expérimenter des nouvelles choses.

 


Références

Toutes les URL ont été consultées le 28 février 2021.

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CHEKKAR, Youcef. (2018). « Du cinéma en Algérie ? Mais bien sûr ! », dans Agencements, Recherches et pratiques sociales en expérimentation, n°2. Rennes : éd. du commun, pp. 124-150 <revue, pdf en ligne>.

CHEKLAB, Myriam & LAVAL, Léa. (2019). « Recherche en lutte et lutte en recherche », dans Agencements, n°3. Rennes : éd. du commun, pp. 60-175 <revue, pdf en ligne>.

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COMPILATION. (2016a). Soul Sok Séga, séga sounds from Mauritius, 1973-1979. !K7 Records, Strut Records, STRUT139CD. (Compilé par Natty Hô et Konsöle / La Basse Tropicale), <sur bandcamp>.

COMPILATION. (2016b). Soul Séga sa! indian ocean segas from the 70’s (1975-1978 Île Maurice, Réunion, Seychelles). Folkwelt, Bongo Joe, BJR003. (Sélection par Cheb Chalet), <sur bandcamp>.

COMPILATION. (2017). Oté Maloya 1975-1986, La naissance du maloya électrique à la Réunion. !K7 label, Strut Records, STRUT151CD. (Compilé par La Basse Tropicale : DJ KonsöLe aka Antoine Tichon, et DJ Natty Ho aka Dinh Nguyen), <sur bandcamp>.

Décret n°84-431 du 6 juin 1984 fixant les dispositions statutaires communes applicables aux enseignants-chercheurs et portant statut particulier du corps des professeurs des universités et du corps des maîtres de conférences, <legifrance>.

DHLF, pour Dictionnaire historique de la langue française. REY, Alain (dir.). (1998). Paris : Dictionnaire Le Robert.

GANN, Kyle. (2012). Breaking the Chain Letter: An Essay on Downtown Music. (première version en 1998). <en ligne>.

HOCQUARD, Emmanuel. (1997). « Taches blanches », dans Le « Gam », n°2, Format Américain, Un bureau sur l’Atlantique. Ce texte est repris dans Ma haie [2001], pp. 401-413 et <en ligne>.

HOCQUARD, Emmanuel. (2000). « Faire quelque chose avec ça ». Dans Esteban, Claude, Hourcade, Rémy, & Hocquard, Emmanuel (dir.). À Royaumont : traduction collective 1983-2000, une anthologie de poésie contemporaine. Grâne : éd. Creaphis, pp. 399-407). Ce texte est repris dans Ma haie [2001], pp. 517-526.

HOCQUARD, Emmanuel. (2001). Ma haie : Un privé à Tanger II. Paris : P.O.L.

LAVAL, Léa. (2016). « Poser l’éducation populaire entre savoirs et émancipation : des pratiques en recherche », dans Recherches & éducations, n°16, « Émancipation et formation de soi, T2 » pp. 102-113 <doi.org>.

LAVAL, Léa. (2019). Travailler les savoirs pour une université autrement populaire. Dialogues entre critiques en acte de l’université et pratiques en recherche de l’éducation populaire. Thèse de doctorat en sciences de l’éducation, Université de Paris VIII Vincennes-Saint-Denis, sous la direction de Jean-Louis Le Grand.

LEWIS, George E. (1996). « Improvised Music after 1950: Afrological and Eurological Perspectives », dans Black Music Research Journal (BMRJ), vol. 16, n°1. Champaign (IL) : Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois <en pdf>.

LEWIS, George E. (2004). “Afterwords to « Improvised Music after 1950 »: The Changing Same”, dans Fischlin D. & Heble A. (eds). The Other Side of Nowhere, Jazz Improvisation, and Communities in Dialogue. Middeltown (CO) : Wesleyan University Press, pp. 163-172.
(2016). « Postface à « La musique improvisée après 1950 », Le pareil qui change », dans PaaLabRes. (trad. Jean-Charles François).

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NAÉSSAYÉ. (1991). Oté la sere [CD]. Discorama, PSB 747, 9101 CD.

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SIDOROFF, Nicolas. (2018b). « Explorer les lisières d’activité, vers une microsociologie des pratiques (musicales) », dans Agencements, n°2. Rennes : éd. du commun, pp. 248-274, <revue, pdf en ligne>.

de SOUSA SANTOS, Boaventura. (2011). « Épistémologie du Sud », dans Études rurales, n°187, Le sens du rural aujourd’hui, pp. 21-50. (Trad. : Magali Watteaux), <en ligne>.

de SOUSA SANTOS, Boaventura. (2016). Épistémologie du Sud, Mouvements citoyens et polémiques sur la science. Paris : Desclée de Brouwer.

STARITZKY, Louis. (2018). « Le droit à la ville : une expérimentation urbaine par le bas », dans Agencements, n°1. Rennes : éd. du commun, pp. 143-159 < revue pdf en ligne>.

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Notes de bas de pages

[1]. De façon volontaire et militante, je pratique l’écriture inclusive. Et je le fais de la façon suivante : j’utilise des expressions du type « ille » ou « celleux » ou alors avec un unique point médian comme dans musicien·nes ou chercheur·ses. Cette typographie me semble être le meilleur point de (dés)équilibre entre signifier l’existence en les rendant visibles d’autres personnes que des mâles cis-genre, et garder une fluidité de lecture. La double-flexion consiste à dire ou écrire : « il et elle », elle fait encore exister une binarité. L’expression « ille » me semble être à la fois très lisible et compréhensible. Et il s’agit d’un nouveau mot qui n’est pas encore très courant ni dans les dictionnaires. C’est-à-dire qu’il faut en construire un sens… c’est à la fois un « il » et une « elle » ? mais pas uniquement ? Mais pourquoi pas uniquement ? Donc peut-être quelque chose comme… « yel » ou un autre pronom que certaines personnes préfèrent qu’on utilise pour parler d’iel ou ile, plutôt que d’utiliser « il » ou « elle » ? Peut-être participons-nous là à une invention d’un nouveau genre grammatical ? Je me permets un « nous » parce que ce type de réflexion et de pratique est partagée dans plusieurs réseaux auxquels je participe. Souvent il nous arrive d’expliciter ces éléments en lien avec cette pratique d’écriture, par exemple au début d’un document ou dans une note de bas de page.
C’est la même chose avec un point médian. Lire « chacun·e » est facile, on prend vite l’habitude, et ce n’est pas uniquement « chacun et chacune », ce sont des êtres vivant avec toutes les diversités imaginables, et même avec d’autres que nous n’arrivons pas encore à suffisamment imaginer. Et pour moi, un seul point suffit à ce petit dérangement, cela reste lisible tout en pointant ces questionnements.
D’autres questions restent ouvertes… Quel passage à l’oral hors de la double-flexion pour dépasser la binarité ? (un genre neutre à développer avec une déclinaison orale semble être une piste intéressante, voir par exemple le travail de thèse d’Alpheratz). Qui travaille ces sujets et depuis quelles positions ? Sur le dos de qui cette forme d’écriture s’exerce ? À suivre.

[2]. Centre de ressources professionnelles et d’enseignement supérieur artistique. L’acronyme vient de l’appellation : Centre de formation des enseignant·es de la musique.

[3]. Une formule réduite dite Petit Goulash, a proposé deux versions du « Schème Moteur » d’Alain Savouret dans l’édition « Partitions graphiques » de ce site PaaLabRes.

[4]. Ce lieu est une très belle source des musiques, d’histoires et de savoirs sur les scènes dites « downtown ». Voir par exemple, les mails impressionnant envoyés chaque semaine présentant quantité de disques, avec notamment Emanuel ‘MannyLunch’ Maris et Bruce Lee Gallanter (surnommé « Downtown Musicologist Emeritus »).

[5]. Voir notamment la 2e partie « « Au-delà des catégories » : alors quoi de nouveau ? », et plus précisément la note 2 concernant la distinction uptown et downtown.

[6]. Et ce second récit n’est pas encore suffisant, on pourrait encore en raconter d’autres venant à chaque fois détailler ou préciser ces interactions, et peut-être aider à qualifier des endroits de lisières. Par exemple au départ d’un enregistrement de la session et d’un entretien d’autoconfrontation (mais les micros devaient enregistrer le roulèr-à-venir, la caméra de témoignage n’est pas dans nos habitudes), ou avec des récits depuis d’autres points de vue, dont celui du collègue avec qui j’étais en expérimentation ce jour-là (je prévois de le faire), etc.

[7]. Boaventura de Sousa Santos est portugais, participe à l’aventure du Forum Social Mondial. Il a travaillé en Amérique du Sud, en étudiant les communautés subalternes et dominées, comment elles s’organisent et comment elles utilisent et produisent des savoirs non reconnus ou non considérés par les colonisateurs et les occidentaux. Et il a mis cette expression sur le devant de la scène : « les épistémologies du Sud ». Il est très intéressant d’observer comment, maintenant, de plus en plus de travaux à l’université sont en train de se poser ce type de questions : la domination reste encore celle de l’objectivité des blancs, du Nord, de l’Occident… (nous n’avons pas tou·tes le même rapport à une tache blanche).

[8]. On (l’ensemble des collègues avec qui j’ai joué cette musique et joue encore des musiques nourries de celle-ci) n’a pas encore suffisamment creusé cette question. D’une part les années 1970s et 1980s sont très riches en changement à la Réunion ; et d’autre part, une fois diffusé, notamment après le disque Oté La sere de NAÉSSAYÉ en 1991, le malogué est sorti d’une absence et a émergé ! Le passage d’un possible expérimenté sous les radars institués à une visibilité aboutissant à des productions et un (petit) soutien des politiques publiques serait intéressant à mieux expliciter, en tout cas en faisant mieux que les trop gros raccourcis qui viennent d’être utilisés.

[9]. En un peu moins de 30min, ces 19 titres représentatifs donnent une bonne idée de ce que peut être la richesse de la rencontre entre reggae et maloya. NB : la chaîne youtube Seggaeman974R est très riche en titre et raretés sur les musiques réunionnaises.
Pour avoir une idée du séga et du seggae, voir par exemple l’intro du premier morceau de l’album Live de Ras Natty Baby [2009] : le tout début batterie et percussions est séga, l’entrée de cuivres à 0’40 après le grand « Rastafari… » fait passer à un seggae qui s’entend vraiment dès 0’47… La chaîne youtube joliememzelle a aussi de belles collections d’albums historiques de musiques des îles mascareignes.

 

Contributeurs – Contributrices Edition 2021

Retour à l’Editorial 2021 : Editorial en français

Return to the Editorial 2021: Editorial – English

 


 

Liste des contributrices et contributeurs
Édition 2021, « Faire tomber les mur »

 

List of contributors
Edition 2021, “Break Down the Walls”

 

Remerciements : Nous souhaitons remercier les personnes qui ont aidé de manière bénévole à la production de cette nouvelle Édition « Faire tomber les murs ».

Réalisation de l’édition « Faire tomber les murs » : Jean-Charles François et Nicolas Sidoroff, avec l’aide de Samuel Chagnard, Yves Favier, Gilles Laval et Pascal Pariaud.

Traductions : Jean-Charles François. Merci à Nancy François et Alison Woolley pour leurs relectures des traductions en anglais. Remerciements à Gérard Authelain, André Dubost, Cécile Guillier et Monica Jordan pour leurs relectures des textes traduits de l’anglais en français.

Remerciements à Ben Boretz, Vlatko Kučan, György Kurtag, Michel Lebreton et Leonie Sens, pour leurs retours constructifs et leurs encouragements.

 


 

Acknowledgements: We would like to thank the people who volunteered to help produce this new edition of “Break Down the Walls”.

Production of the edition “Break Down the Walls”: Jean-Charles François et Nicolas Sidoroff, with the help of Samuel Chagnard, Yves Favier, Gilles Laval and Pascal Pariaud.

Translations : Jean-Charles François. Thanks to Nancy François and Alison Woolley for reviewing the English translations. Thanks to Gérard Authelain, André Dubost, Cécile Guillier and Monica Jordan for reviewing the texts translated from English to French.

Thanks to Ben Boretz, Vlatko Kučan, György Kurtag, Michel Lebreton et Leonie Sens, for their constructive feedbacks and their encouragements.

 


 

Gérard Authelain

Gérard Authelain a exercé le métier de musicien intervenant à l’école avant de devenir directeur du C.F.M.I. de Lyon (université Lumière – Lyon 2). Auteur d’une thèse en musicologie sur Les Mythes et les Images archétypales dans la chanson, il a été rédacteur des Enfants de la zique de 1995 à 2014. Auteur de plusieurs livres et articles sur la chanson française et sur l’invention musicale avec et par les enfants, il anime régulièrement en France et à l’étranger des stages et ateliers sur les démarches de création et sur les pratiques vocales où la chanson tient une place importante.

Gérard Authelain worked as a musician in residence in school before becoming director of the C.F.M.I. of Lyon (Lumière University – Lyon 2). Author of a thesis in musicology on Les Mythes et les Images archétypales dans la chanson, he was editor of Les Enfants de la zique from 1995 to 2014. Author of several books and articles on French song and on musical invention with and by children, he regularly animates in France and in foreign countries workshops and training courses on the creative process and on vocal practices in which song plays an important role.

http://www.momeludies.com/tag/gerard-authelain/
g[point]authelain[chez]wanadoo[point]com

 

Benjamin Boretz

Benjamin Boretz, compositeur et théoricien de la musique. Il a été le co-fondateur de Perspctive of New Music (en 1962) et de Open Space Magazine (en 1988) dont il est encore aujourd’hui le co-éditeur. Il a écrit de nombreux articles en tant que critique, théoricien et philosophe de la musique dans les perspectives de sa pratique de la composition. Dans les années 1970-80 il a développé au Bard College Music Program Zero, un programme centré sur l’apprentissage de la musique à partir de créations en temps réel et d’improvisations.

Benjamin Boretz is a  composer and music theorist. He was the co-founder of the composers’ music journal Perspective of New Music and  Open Space Magazine. He is still the co-editor of both of these publications. He has written extensively on musical issues, as critic, theorist, and musical philosopher, from the perspective of a practicing composer. In the late 1970s and 1980s he converged his compositional and pedagogical practices in a project of real-time improvisational music-making, culminating in the formation at Bard College of the music-learning program called Music Program Zero.

https://the-open-space.org
boretz[at]bard[dot]edu

 

Guigou Chenevier

Guigou Chenevier, est un musicien indépendant, nomade et saltimbanque. Il est compositeur, batteur et percussionniste. Il a été directeur artistique de Inouï Productions (1992-2019), une association qui soutient les productions musicales innovantes et toutes les formes d’expérimentations musicales iinclassables. Dans ce cadre il a initié de nombreuses créations (souvant interdisciplinaires) dont L’art resiste au temps. Il est par ailleurs engagé politiquement dans l’accueil des migrants.

Guigou Chenevier is an independent, nomadic and saltimbanque musician. He is a composer, drummer and percussionist. He was artistic director of Inouï Productions (1992-2019), an association that supports innovative musical productions and all forms of unclassifiable musical experimentation. Within this framework, he has initiated numerous creations (often interdisciplinary) including L’art resiste au temps. He is also politically involved in the support of migrants.

https://www.ensa-limoges.fr/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/biographie_guy_chenevier.pdf
guigouchenvier[arobase]gmail[point]com

 

Dominique Clément

Dominique Clément, compositeur, clarinettiste et enseignant,  directeur adjoint du Cefedem Auvergne Rhône-Alpes. Il est Membre fondateur de l’Ensemble Aleph en 1983. Il a composé principalement des œuvres de musique de chambre et la musique de spectacles, mais travaille aussi régulièrement sur des projets de pièces à caractère pédagogique. Il élabore son langage musical grâce à la lecture de poètes et de romanciers tels que Claude Simon, Georges Perec, Jean-Jacques Viton ou Jacques Roubaud. Il enseigne actuellement au Cefedem (programme de formation destiné aux futurs enseignants des écoles de musique) et au CNSMD de Lyon.

Dominique Clément, composer, clarinettist and teacher, deputy director of the Cefedem Auvergne Rhône-Alpes. He is a founding member of the Ensemble Aleph in 1983. He has composed mainly chamber music and performance music, but also works regularly on projects of pedagogical pieces. He elaborates his musical language thanks to the reading of poets and novelists such as Claude Simon, Georges Perec, Jean-Jacques Viton or Jacques Roubaud. He currently teaches at the Cefedem (training program for future music school teachers) and at the CNSMD in Lyon.

Ensemble Aleph
clement[à]gmail[point]com

 

Aleks A. Dupraz

Anarchiviste en crip & care time, Poésie – Action collective – Littérature(s) – Recherches – Microédition, ses recherches portent sur les manières dont la littérature peut contribuer à outiller le travail en commun. Iel est membre du Collectif éditorial de la revue Agencements.

Anarchivist in crip & care time, Poetry – Collective Action – Literature(s) – Research – Micropublication, focuses on the ways in which literature can contribute to the development of tools for working together. S·he is a member of the Editorial collective of the journal Agencements.

experiencespoetiques
ecorcesetcabanes
fabriquesdesociologie.net

 

Sharon Eskenazi

Sharon Eskenazi enseigne la danse et l’improvisation dans plusieurs écoles d’art et conservatoires en Israël de 2000 à 2011. Diplômée du « Movement notation Department of the Rubin Academy of Music and Dance » à Jerusalem, elle poursuit ses études à l’Université Lumière de Lyon en 2013 et devient titulaire d’un Master. Co-fondatrice du groupe DSF / Danser Sans Frontières à Rillieux-la-Pape elle mène et réalise au Centre Chorégraphique National de Rillieux-la-Pape en 2015 le projet Passerelles. Elle est l’assistante chorégraphique de Yuval Pick et Coordinatrice artistique au CCNR depuis 2014.

Sharon Eskenazi taught choreography and improvisation in several art schools and professionals conservatories in Israel between 2000 and 2011. Graduated of the Movement notation Department of the Rubin Academy of Music and Dance in Jerusalem, she continued her studies in France and got a Master degree at the Lumière University in 2013. She is the co-founder of the dance group DSF / Danser Sans Frontières in Rillieux-la-Pape et led the project Passerelles at the CCNR (Centre Chorégraphique National de Rillieux-la-Pape) in 2015. She is currently the choreographic assistant of Yuval Pick since 2014 and Artistic coordinator at the CCNR.

Centre Chorégraphique National
sharoneskenazi[arobase]gmail[point]com

 

Yves Favier

Yves FAVIER, tromboniste, improvisateur, vidéo performer. Il a joué en Italie et en France avec Barre Phillips dans « Fête Foreign » et a participé aux rencontres du CEPI (créé par ce dernier). Performances avec Salvatore Panu dans « La conspiration des Muses », et dans le cadre du CRAMS (Lecco, Italie). Il a participé à de nombreuses installations vidéo dans des lieux publics et de passage. Il a été directeur technique à l’ENSATT (Lyon), au CCN de Créteil, et dans plusieurs compagnies théâtrales. Il vit et œuvre à Bordeaux et développe le projet musical « Oenopéra » et « Musiciens de proximité en période de confinement » avec Gyorgy Kurtag Jr.

Yves FAVIER, trombonist, improviser, video performer. He played in Italy and France with Barre Phillips in “Fête Foreign” and participated in the CEPI meetings (created by the latter). Performances with Salvatore Panu in “La conspiration des Muses”, and in CRAMS (Lecco, Italy). he participated in many video installations in public places and places of passage. He was technical director at ENSATT (Lyon), at the CCN of Créteil, and in several theater companies. He lives and works in Bordeaux and develops the musical project “Oenopéra”, and with Gyorgy Kurtag Jr. “Musicians of proximity in period of confinement” .

favier.y[à]wanadoo[point]fr

 

Jean-Charles François

Jean-Charles François, percussionniste, compositeur, improvisateur, chercheur indépendant, membre de PaaLabRes, du trio d’improvisation PFL Traject et de l’Ensemble Aleph. Il a été professeur à l’Université de Californie San Diego (1972-1990) et directeur duCefedem RA (1990-2007).

Jean-Charles François, percussionist, composer, improvisator, independent scholar, member of the PaaLabRes collective, of the improvisation trio PFL Traject and to the Ensemble Aleph. He was professor at the University of California San Diego (1972-1990)  and director of the Cefedem RA (1990-2007).

jeancharles.francois[chez]orange[p.]fr

 

Henrik Frisk

Henrik Frisk est un musicien (saxophones et électronique) actif dans les musiques improvisées et la musique contemporaine et un compositeur de musique acoustique et électroacoustique. Il est professeur au Royal College of Music à Stockholm dans le département de composition de musique électroacoustique et il mène des recherches en improvisation, interactivité, spatialisation, et musique électroacoustique expérimentale. Dans le domaine de la recherch artistique, il est aujourd’hui en train de développer le projet Musical Transformation pour explorer les traditions musicales et le changement. Ses écrits ont paru dans le Routlege companion to research in the arts et il est le co-éditeur et contributeur de Acts of Creation, une anthologie sur la supervision de la recherche artistique.

Henrik Frisk is an active performer (saxophones and electronics) of improvised and contemporary music and a composer of acoustic and electroacoustic music. He is professor at the Royal College of Music in Stockholm at the department for electroacoustic music composition, and his research is concerned with improvisation, interactivity, spatialisation and experimental electroacoustic music. Among other research projects he is currently involved with Musical Transformations, a project exploring musical traditions and change. He has contributed to the Routledge companion to research in the arts and is the co-editor and contributor of Acts of Creation, an anthology on artistic research supervision.

Henrik Frisk
henrik[dot]frisk[at]kmh[dot]se

 

Reinhard Gagel

Reinhard Gagel est un pianiste, improvisateur, chercheur et pédagogue qui est associé à l’Exploratorium Berlin, un centre en existence depuis 2004 consacré à l’improvisation et à sa pédagogie, qui organise des concerts, des colloques et des ateliers (il a pris sa retraite en mars 2020). Il travaille à Berlin, Cologne et Vienne.

Reinhard Gagel is a visual artist, pianist, improviser, researcher and pedagogue who is associated with the Exploratorium Berlin, a center in existence since 2004 dedicated to improvisation and its pedagogy, which organizes concerts, colloquia and workshops (he retired in March 2020). He works in Berlin, Cologne and Vienna.

(www.exploratorium-berlin.de)
https://www.reinhard-gagel.de

 

Laurent Grappe

Laurent Grappe, compositeur, musicien. Son travail sur la poésie du son enregistré l’a conduit à composer un certain nombre de pièces électroacoustiques pour lesquelles il crée systématiquement un dispositif spécifique permettant une « mise en scène » du son, que ce soit en direct ou enregistré en amont. Dans ses propositions, il fait intervenir des comédiens, musiciens, plasticiens, voire le public même. Il collabore avec Noémi Lefebvre à l’élaboration de vidéos dans le cadre du studio doitsu.

Laurent Grappe, composer, musician. His work on the poetry of recorded sound has led him to compose a certain number of electroacoustic pieces for which he systematically creates a specific system allowing a « staging » of the sound, whether live or recorded beforehand. In his proposals, he involves actors, musicians, visual artists, and even the public. He collaborates with Noémi Lefebvre in creating a series of videos produced by  the studio doitsu.

studio doitsu
grappelau[chez]gmail[point]com

 

Cécile Guillier

Cécile Guiller, musicienne éclectique et enseignante en Haute-Loire.

Cécile Guillier, eclectic musician and teacher in Haute-Loire (Auvergne).

guillier[à]wanadoo[point]fr

 

Noriaki Hosoya

Noriaki Hosoya, bassiste électrique et acoustique, compositeur, arrangeur. Il a fait ses études au Berklee College of Music à Boston. Il a travaillé en tant que musicien indépendant à Tokyo (2006-10), Berlin (2010-16), puis de nouveau à Tokyo. Il est membre du duo de basses Wurstkäse, du Noriaki Hosoya European Trio, du Falk Bonitz Trio, et il a récemment développé le projet DoNo avec l’artiste plasticienne Doris Kollmann (Berlin).

Noriaki Hosoya, electric and acoustic bass player, composer, arranger. He studied at the Berklee College of Music in Boston. He worked as a freelance musician in Tokyo (2006-10), Berlin (2010-16),and then back to Tokyo. He is a member of the Bassduo Wurstkäse, of the Noriaki Hosoya European Trio, of the Falk Bonitz Trio, and recently he developed the project DoNo with the visual artist Doris Kollmann (Berlin).

noriakihosoya.com
noriakihosoya[at]gmail[dot]com

 

Christoph Irmer

Christoph Irmer, violoniste, dans le domaine de la musique expérimentale improvisée. En 1994-95, il a participé au projet de Peter Kowald 365 Tage am Ort (« 365 jours sur place »). Depuis l’année 2000 il est l’organisateur du Klappstuhl-Fest für frei Musik und Tanz à Wuppertal (Allemagne). Il est membre du London Improvisation Orchestra et du Wuppertal Improvisations Orchesters. Il vit et travaille à Wuppertal.

Christoph Irmer is a German violinist in the domain of improvised new music. In 1994-95, he participated in the project by Peter Kowald 365 Tage am Ort (« 365 days at home »). Since 2000, he is the curator of the Klappstuhl-Fest füt frei Musik und Tanz in Wuppertal (Germany). He is a member of the London Improvisation Orchestra and the Wuppertal Improvisations Orchesters. He lives and works in Wuppertal.

Christoph Irmer
Christoph.Irmer[zu]t-online[punkt]de

 

Marie Jorio

Marie Jorio est urbaniste engagée dans la transition écologique, et a une grande expérience de la scène dans le cadre de spectacles musicaux. Elle s’est retrouvée en situation de (tâcher de) faire tomber les murs, au sens propre comme au figuré, dès ses études d’ingénieur, où sa sensibilité artistique trouvait difficilement sa place, et en tant qu’urbaniste, métier de tisseur de liens physiques et humains. Dans la proposition Demain, Demain ! elle souhaite inviter les auditeurs à la réflexion, au rêve et et à l’action, pour dépasser le déni ou la sidération qui nous étouffent aujourd’hui face à l’ampleur des questions environnementales.

Marie Jorio is an urban planner committed to ecological transition and has extensive experience on stage in theatre/music performances. She found herself in the situation of (trying to) break down walls, literally and figuratively, as early as her engineering studies, where her artistic sensibility had difficulty finding a place, and as an urban planner, as a weaver of physical and human links. In the proposal “Demain, Demain !” [“Tomorrow, Tomorrow!”] she wants the audience to reflect, dream and act, in order to overcome the denial or stupefaction that suffocates us today in the face of the magnitude of environmental issues.

jorioma[à]yahoo[point]fr

 

Doris Kollmann

Doris Kollmann est une artiste plasticienne qui vit à Berlin. Sa production comprend tout autant de la peinture, des graphismes, des installations et des performances. Dans ce dernier domaine elle est associée depuis 2016 avec le musicien japonais Noriaki Hosoya, avec qui elle a développé le duo DoNo.

Doris Kollmann is a visual artist living in Berlin. Her production ranges from paintings to graphics, installations and performances. In this latter domain she is associated since 2016 with the Japanese musician Noriaki Hosoya with whom she developed the duo DoNo.

Doris Kollmann.
doko[zu]doriskollmann[punkt]de

 

Vlatko Kučan

Vlatko Kučan, musicien (instruments : saxophones et clarinettes), compositeur, réalisateur, thérapiste musical, et enseignant. À travers ses divers travaux, il explore les possibilités d’expression artistique dans le domaine de l’art de l’improvisation. Sa production croise et va au-delà des frontières de la musique contemporaine, du jazz, des musiques improvisées, du théâtre et de la musique de film. Dans ses travaux, Kučan s’intéresse aussi à combiner littérature, philosophie et musique. Il est aussi metteur en ondes de pièces radiophoniques et réalisateur de livres électroniques. Il a joué et collaboré avec les principaux protagonistes des domaines du jazz contemporain, des musiques improvisées et du théâtre.

Vlatko Kučan works as a musician (instruments: saxophones and clarinets), composer, producer, music therapist and educator. His various works focus and explore the possibilities of artistic expression through the art of improvisation. They cross and extend traditional boundaries of contemporary music, jazz, improvised music, theatre and film music. Another focus of Kučan’s work is the combination of literature, philosophy and music. He also works as a director for radio plays and audio books. He performed and collaborated with leading protagonists of contemporary jazz, improvised music and theatre.

https://www.vlatkokucan.de
vlatko.kucan[at]hfmt-hamburg[punkt]de

 

György Kurtag

György Kurtág est un compositeur / improvisateur et chercheur en musique électronique et expérimentale, basé à Bordeaux. Passionné par les recherches pédagogiques, il est conseiller art/sciences au Studio de Création et de Recherche en Informatique et Musiques Expérimentales (SCRIME) de Bordeaux. Il a développé une technique de dialogue musicale qui s’appelle « méthode de continuation dialogique » qui se base sur l’idée de commencer à apprendre la musique par la communication, par l’expression. Il est à l’affût de projets artistiques intéressants permettant d’alimenter la recherche, c’est-à-dire de trouver des artistes également intéressés par l’idée de faire progresser la recherche ; et également dans l’autre sens, c’est à dire trouver des projets de recherches pouvant aider la création artistique. Récemment il a joué en duo avec Barre Phillips et il a collaboré avec lui dans l’élaboration des rencontres du CEPI 2019.

György Kurtág is a composer / improviser and researcher in electronic and experimental music, based in Bordeaux. Passionate about pedagogical research, he is an art/science advisor at the Studio de Création et de Recherche en Informatique et Musiques Expérimentales (SCRIME) in Bordeaux. He has developed a musical dialogue technique called “dialogic continuation method” which is based on the idea of starting to learn music through communication, through expression. He is on the lookout for interesting artistic projects that can feed into research, that is to say, finding artists who are also interested in the idea of advancing research; and also in the other direction, finding research projects that can help artistic creation. Recently he played a duet with Barre Phillips and collaborated with him in the elaboration of the CEPI 2019 meeting.

https://scrime.u-bordeaux.fr
ingo.kurtag[chez]gmail[p.]com

 

Gilles Laval

Gilles Laval, musicien, membre de PaaLabRes, du trio d’improvisation PFL Traject, responsable du département rock à l’ENM de Villeurbanne. Récemment, Gilles Laval a initié et dirigé le projet « 100 guitares sur un bateau ivre », création musicale inspirée du Bateau Ivre d’Arthur Rimbaud, qui mobilise des musiciens amateurs et des professionnels pour créer une expérience sensorielle unique.

Gilles Laval, musician, member of PaaLabRes, of the improvisation trio PFL Traject, in charge of the rock department at the ENM de Villeurbanne. Recently, Gilles Laval initiated and directed the project “100 guitars on a drunken boat”, a musical creation inspired by Arthur Rimbaud’s Bateau Ivre, which involves amateur musicians and professionals in creating a unique sensory experience.

Bateau Ivre
gilleslaval[arob.]free[point]fr

 

Michel Lebreton

Michel Lebreton pratique les musiques du Centre France et d’autres espaces sur la musette du Berry ainsi que la transmission d’objets musicaux. Son parcours a été nourri d’expériences musicales (bals, concerts, créations pour orchestres, spectacles de contes musicaux) et d’itinéraires de transmissions (en association, en milieu scolaire, en conservatoire). Il a enseigné les musiques traditionnelles au CRD de Calais.

Michel Lebreton practices music from the Centre France and other spaces, on the Berry musette, as well as the transmission of musical objects. His career has been nourished by musical experiences (balls, concerts, creations for orchestras, musical storytelling performances) and transmission itineraries (in associations, primary schools, conservatories). He taught traditional music at the CRD of Calais.

Leschants de cornemuse
lebreton[point]mic[chez]gmail[point]com

 

Noémi Lefebvre

Noémi Lefebvre, auteur d’une thèse de science politique sur l’enseignement musical et les idéologies nationales en Allemagne et en France (1994), elle s’intéresse, dans le cadre de ses recherches comme dans l’écriture, à la rencontre entre idées politiques et idées sur l’art. Elle a publié trois romans. Elle est aussi l’auteur de deux essais sur Maurice Fleuret et Marcel Landowski.

Noémi Lefebvre, author of a political science thesis on music education and national ideologies in Germany and France (1994), she is interested, in the context of her research as well as in writing, in the encounter between political ideas and ideas about art. She has published three novels. She is also the author of two essays on Maurice Fleuret and Marcel Landowski.

blogs.mediapart.fr/noemi-lefebvre

 

Clare Lesser

Clare Lesser est une vocaliste spécialisée dans l’interprétation du répertoire du XXe siècle et contemporain. Elle vient de soutenir sa thèse de doctorat à l’Université de York : « Deconstructive Approaches to Indeterminacy in Post-war Music » . Elle a donné plus de 60 premières mondiales (après avoir travaillé avec Michael Finnissy, Hans Joachim Hespos, Karlheinz Stockhausen, James Dillon, Heinz Holliger etc. Ses recherches portent sur la déconstruction et l’indétermination en musique, avec un accent particulier sur les œuvres de John Cage, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Michael Finnissy et Hans Joachim Hespos. Elle enseigne le chant à la New York University, Abu Dhabi.

Clare Lesser is a singer who specialises in the performance of 20th century and contemporary repertoire. She just completed her PhD at the University of York : “Deconstructive Approaches to Indeterminacy in Post-war Music” . She has given over 60 world premieres (having worked with Michael Finnissy, Hans Joachim Hespos, Karlheinz Stockhausen, James Dillon, Heinz Holliger etc. Her research interests focus on deconstruction and indeterminate music, with particular emphasis on the works of John Cage, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Michael Finnissy and Hans Joachim Hespos. She is Lecturer in Music at the New York University, Abu Dhabi.

Clare Lesser – NYU
cvl1[at]nyu[dot]edu

 

Cecil Lytle

Cecil Lytle, pianist classique, chercheur en musiques afro-américaines. Il a obtenu le Premier Prix du Concours International de Piano Franz Liszt et depuis il est devenu bien connu pour ses interprétations du répertoire de piano des 19e et 20e siècles. La diversité d’esthétiques a été un des éléments majeurs de sa carrière. Aujourd’hui retraité, il a été Professeur de musique, Provost pendant très longtemps du Thurgood Marshall College et membre fondateur de la Preuss Charter School à l’Université de Californie San Diego.

Cecil Lytle, classical pianist, Black music studies. He was First Prize winner in the Franz Liszt International Piano Competition and since then has earned a reputation as a recitalist performing 19th and 20th century piano music. Diversity has been a central aspect of his career. He is a retired Professor of Music, the long-time Provost of Thurgood Marshall College, and as a founding member of the Preuss charter school at the University of California, San Diego.

Cecil Lytle, UCSD
clytle[at]ucsd[dot]edu

 

Nguyễn Thanh Thủy

Nguyễn Thanh Thủy est née dans une famille de théâtre et a grandi avec la musique traditionnelle vietnamienne dès son plus jeune âge à Hà Nội. Elle a étudié au Conservatoire de musique de Hanoi. Depuis 2000, elle enseigne à l’Académie nationale de musique du Vietnam. Elle a effectué des tournées en Asie, en Europe et aux États-Unis. En 2014, elle a publié un chapitre consacré à l’apprentissage musical interculturel dans Spår av Musik, un livre édité par Stefan Östersjö chez Lund University Press. Sa production se situe dans le contexte de la musique traditionnelle et expérimentale en tant qu’interprète/improvisatrice de tranh đàn ; elle collabore avec de nombreux musiciens et compositeurs dans le monde entier. Entre 2009 et 2011, elle a participé au projet de recherche artistique international « (re)penser l’improvisation », dans le cadre d’une collaboration entre l’Académie nationale de musique du Vietnam et l’Académie de musique de Malmö. Depuis 2012, elle mène un projet de doctorat artistique à l’Académie de musique de Malmö, portant sur le geste dans la musique traditionnelle vietnamienne.

Nguyễn Thanh Thủy was born into a theatre family and was raised with traditional Vietnamese music from an early age in Hà Nội. She studied at the Hanoi Conservatory of Music. Since 2000 she holds a teaching position at the Vietnam National Academy of Music. She has toured in Asia, Europe, the USA. In 2014 she published a book chapter on cross-cultural musical learning in Spår av Musik, a book edited by Stefan Östersjö on Lund University Press. She works with both traditional and experimental music as a đàn tranh performer/improvisor; collaborates with many musicians and composers around the world. Between 2009 and 2011, she was involved as artistic researcher in the international research project “(re)thinking improvisation”, as a collaboration between the Vietnam National Academy of Music and the Malmö Academy of Music. Since 2012 she is carrying out an artistic doctoral project at the Malmö Academy of Music concerned with gesture in traditional Vietnamese music.

Nguyễn Thanh Thủy
The Six Tones

 

Stefan Östersjö

Stefan Östersjö est l’un des plus importants solistes de la musique contemporaine en Suède. Il a beaucoup enregistré et fait des tournées en Europe, aux Etats-Unis et en Asie. Il porte un intérêt particulier à l’interaction avec l’électronique et le travail expérimental avec différents types d’instruments à cordes autres que la guitare classique. Son intérêt important pour la musique de chambre l’a amené à créer le trio flûte, alto et guitare HOT 3 et à collaborer avec la plupart des ensembles et solistes de la Scandinavie. Il est un membre du groupe The Six Tones.

Stefan Östersjö is one of the most prominent soloists within new music in Sweden. He has recorded extensively and toured Europe, the US and Asia. His special fields of interest are the interaction with electronics, and experimental work with different kinds of stringed instruments other than the classical guitar. His great interest in chamber music has resulted in the founding of flute, viola and guitar-trio HOT 3 and collaboration with most chamber ensembles and important soloists in Scandinavia. He is a member of the group The Six Tones.

The Six Tones
stefan.ostersjo[at]mhm.lu[point]se

 

Pascal Pariaud

Pascal Pariaud, instrumentiste, souffleur de tuyaux, chanteur et chef de chœur, improvisateur, professeur à l’ENM de Villeurbanne, membre de PaaLabRes, membre de PFL-Traject, d’un duo de Poésie sonore et de divers ensembles sur instruments anciens.

Pascal Pariaud, instrumentalist, pipe blower, singer and choir conductor, improviser, teacher at the ENM de Villeurbanne, member of PaaLabRes, member of PFL-Traject, of a Sound Poetry duo and various ensembles on ancient instruments.

pascalpariaud[ché]gmail[p.]com

 

Céline Pierre

Céline Pierre : réalisatrice artistique diplômée du CRR-Reims en électroacoustique et de l’ENSBA-Paris en multimedia et performance, réalise des projets pour sites spécifiques avec participation des populations, environnements de projections, pièces radiophoniques, films-essais et oratorio vidéos. Avec le projet TRAGEN.HZ, elle mène, à partir de collectes réalisées sur un campement de réfugiés, un travail d’écritures visuelles & sonores destiné à des sites et scènes pluridisciplinaires.

Céline Pierre: artistic producer with degrees from CRR-Reims in electroacoustics and ENSBA-Paris in multimedia and performance, she realizes site-specific projects with participation of the population, projection environments, radio plays, film-essays and video oratorio. With the project TRAGEN.HZ, she conducts, from collected material from a refugee camp, a work of visual & sound writing intended for multidisciplinary sites and scenes.

celine_pierre[chez]orange[point]fr

 

Steven Scick

Steven Schick, percussionniste, chef d’orchestre et auteur. Il s’est fait le champion de la musique contemporaine pour percussions en commandant ou en créant plus de cent cinquante nouvelles œuvres. Les plus importantes d’entre elles font maintenant partie du répertoire de base pour la percussion solo. Steven Schick est directeur artistique de l’Orchestre symphonique et du chœur de La Jolla et des San Francisco Contemporary Music Players. En tant que chef d’orchestre, il s’est produit avec le BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, le Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, le Milwaukee Symphony, l’Ensemble Modern, l’International Contemporary Ensemble et l’Asko/Schönberg Ensemble. Il est professeur à l’Université de Californie San Diego.

Steven Schick, percussionist, conductor, and author. He has championed contemporary percussion music by commissioning or premiering more than one hundred-fifty new works. The most important of these have become core repertory for solo percussion. Steven Schick is artistic director of the La Jolla Symphony and Chorus and the San Francisco Contemporary Music Players. As a conductor, he has appeared with the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, the Milwaukee Symphony, Ensemble Modern, the International Contemporary Ensemble, and the Asko/Schönberg Ensemble. He is Professor at the University of California, San Diego.

stevenschick.com
sschick[at]ucsd[dot]edu

 

Nicolas Sidoroff

Nicolas Sidoroff, musicien->militant<-chercheur, entre autre membre de PaaLabRes, formateur au Cefedem Auvergne Rhône-Alpes, et webm@ster de ce site, etc.

Nicolas Sidoroff, musician->politically engaged<-researcher, among other things member of  PaaLabRes collective, teacher at the Cefedem Auvergne Rhône-Alpes, and webm@ster of this site, etc.

@ : nicolas.sidoroff chez ouvaton, sans oublier le point org.

 

Giacomo Spica Capobianco

Giacomo Spica Capobianco est auteur compositeur, artiste chanteur, slameur, tchatcheur, improvisateur, musicien, facteur d’instruments urbains, pédagogue, et autodidacte. Fondateur de la Compagnie GSC et de l’Orchestre National Urbain (ONU).
Après 16 ans passé à l’usine, en tant qu’ouvrier en métallurgie, et baigné dans un univers familial de musiciens, issus du sud de l’Italie, à Isola del Liri (région entre Rome et Naples), il décide de se consacrer pleinement à la musique. Parallèlement, il dirige l’association CRA.P (Carrefour des rencontres artistiques pluriculturelles), centre  d’art et de formation aux cultures urbaines. Il intervient sur des ateliers, stages, master classes, dans de nombreuse institutions d’enseignement supérieur, en hôpital psychiatrique, dans plusieurs lycées, collèges et MJC en ateliers d’écriture de textes et de mise en situation. Il a une forte expérience dans les rencontres entre musiques classiques, jazz, traditionnelles, actuelles amplifiées.

Giacomo Spica Capobianco is an author-composer, singer, slam artist, chatterer, improviser, musician, urban instrument maker, pedagogue, and self-taught. Founder of the GSC Company and of the National Urban Orchestra (ONU). After 16 years working in a factory, as a metalworker, and immersed in a family environment of musicians from the south of Italy, in Isola del Liri (region between Rome and Naples), he decided to fully dedicate himself to music. In parallel, he directs the association CRA.P (Crossroads of Multicultural Artistic Encounters), a art and training center for urban cultures. He conducts workshops, training courses, master classes, in many institutions of higher education, in psychiatric hospitals, in several high schools, colleges and MJCs in workshops for writing texts and setting up situations. He has a strong experience in encounters between classical, jazz, traditional and popular music.

Cra.p/
spicag (chez) netcourrier (point) com

 

 

Gérald Venturi

Gérald Venturi, musicien, membre de PaaLabRes, enseignant à l’ENM de Villeurbanne

Gérald Venturi, musician, member of the PaalabRes collective, teacher at the ENM of Villeurbanne

gerald.venturi[chez]gmail.com

 

Christopher Willimas

Christopher A. Williams est un créateur, un organisateur et un théoricien de la musique expérimentale et de l’art sonore. En tant que compositeur et contrebassiste, il travaille dans les domaines de la musique de chambre, de l’improvisation et de l’art radiophonique et développe aussi des collaborations avec des danseurs, des artistes du son et des artistes visuels. La recherche artistique de Christopher Williams se manifeste à la fois dans des publications universitaires conventionnelles et dans la réalisation pratique de projets multimédia. Il est le co-organisateur de la série de concerts KONTRAKLANG (Berlin). De 2009 à 2015 il a été le co-organisateur de la série de concerts de salon Certain Sundays (Berlin). Pour la période 2020-22 il a obtenu un poste de recherche post-doctorale à l’University of Music and Performing Arts, Graz, Autriche.

Christopher A. Williams makes, organizes, and theorizes around experimental music and sound. As a composer and contrabassist, his work runs the gamut from chamber music, improvisation, and radio art to collaborations with dancers, sound artists, and visual artists. Williams’ artistic research takes the form of both conventional academic publications and practice-based multimedia projects. He co-curates the Berlin concert series KONTRAKLANG (Berlin). From 2009-2015 he co-curated the salon series Certain Sundays (Berlin). From 2020-2022 he is a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Music and Performing Arts, Graz.

www.christopherisnow.com
www.tactilepaths.net (on and through Notation for Improvisers)

Guide to the 2021 Edition

 

 

___________________________________________________________________________

Guide to the 2021 Edition – “Break Down the Walls”

The home page can be seen in light or dark green.

The 2021 Edition home page works as follows:

  • The river represents the video of the Grand Collage. The river flows from left to right.
    • The river is divided in five parts, indicated I V.
    • There are 10 “Lisières” (Edges), indicated by L.1 L.10.
    • The river (the Grand Collage) is divided in 26 sequences.
  • The Houses are represented by 27 bubbles. Inside each bubble is the name of a contributor (or contributors) to the edition. Each house contains the complete contribution corresponding to the displayed name (or names).
  • Pathways that lead from the houses to the river. They indicate the places in the Grand Collage where extracts from the corresponding contributions are included. The pathways lead to where one of the 26 sequences starts in the Grand Collage.

It is possible to: :

  1. Click on the river in the space corresponding to one of the 26 sequences. The corresponding sequence will be played from the start and at the end of the sequence an arrow will allow to continue to the next. The Grand Collage can be stopped at any time by clicking on a house (small bubble) on the right side of the screen, or on the miniature map representing the 2021 edition home page.
  2. During the course of the Grand Collage, the name of a contributor will appear in a bubble (house) on the right side of the screen, when an extract will be played corresponding to this name. By clicking on a name, you will be able to access the full contribution corresponding to that name. By clicking on the miniature map you will be able to return to the home page of the edition.
  3. Click on a house on the map will give access to the full contribution corresponding to the name. When passing the curser on the house, a bubble will appear describing the content of the contribution. The contributions always appear in their original language (English or French). At the top of the article a link (or sometimes several links) allows access to the translation in the other language.

Mode d’emploi 2021

Access to the English translation: Guide 2021 « Break Down the Walls

 

 


 

Mode d’emploi 2021 – Edition « Faire tomber les murs »

La page d’accueil de l’édition 2021 peut se voir en version sombre ou en version claire.

La page d’accueil se présente comme suit :

  • La Rivière qui représente la vidéo du Grand Collage. Elle se lit de gauche à droite et est partagée en 26 séquences.
    • Il y a cinq parties, indiquées I V.
    • Il y a 10 « Lisières », indiquées par L.1 L.10.
  • Les Maisons représentées par des bulles claires avec le nom des personnes qui ont contribué à l’édition. Chaque maison contient l’intégralité de la contribution correspondant au nom affiché.
  • Des Chemins mènent des maisons à la rivière. Ils indiquent où se trouvent dans le Grand Collage les extraits des contributions correspondant aux noms affichés dans les maisons. Les chemins aboutissent au début d’une séquence, parmi les 26 séquences qui découpent le Grand Collage, dans laquelle apparaissent les extraits des contributions.

 

On peut :

  1. Cliquer sur la rivière dans l’espace correspondant à une des 26 séquences. La séquence correspondante sera jouée depuis son début, à la fin une flèche permettra d’aller à la suivante.
    On peut sortir du déroulement du Grand collage à tout moment, en cliquant sur une des maisons (bulle) placée dans une bulle à droite de l’écran, ou sur la carte miniature de la page d’accueil 2021.
  2. Cliquer sur une maison (bulle) sur la page d’accueil pour accéder à l’intégralité d’une contribution. Les contributions apparaissent toujours dans la langue originale (anglais ou français). En haut de l’article un lien (ou parfois plusieurs liens) permet d’accéder à la traduction dans l’autre langue.
  3. Cliquer sur une maison (bulle) pendant la diffusion du Grand collage (elle apparaîtra au fur-et-à-mesure sur la droite de la vidéo). En cliquant sur une de ces bulles, on peut accéder à la maison correspondante.

Dominique Clément – English

Return to the French original texts: Français

 


 

Dominique Clément – clarinets, composition

 

Clarinetist, composer and teacher, Dominique Clément has composed mainly chamber music and music for the stage, but also works regularly on projects of pieces of an educational nature.
He is one of the founding members of Ensemble Aleph since 1983.
He elaborates his musical language thanks to the reading of poets and novelists such as Claude Simon, Georges Perec, Jean-Jacques Viton or Jacques Roubaud.
His works have been performed at the festivals Musica, Présences, Musiques en scène, Musique action, 38e Rugissants as well as in Finland, Brazil, the United States, Germany, Great Britain… He has received several state commissions for his works (Triptyque pour une corrida, Temps bleu, Tresette) as well as commissions from the festivals of Vandoeuvre-lès-Nancy, Évreux, Musicades de Lyon, Cluny. After teaching at the National School of Music in Chalon-sur-Saône from 1979 to 2000, he currently teaches at Cefedem (a training program for future music school teachers) and at the Lyon Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse (CNSMD).

Ensemble Aleph

Created in 1983, the Ensemble Aleph is a collective of associated soloists (Dominique Clément – clarinet, Sylvie Drouin – piano, Jean-Charles François – percussion, Monica Jordan – voce, Christophe Roy – cello, Noëmi Schindler – violon, Michel Pozmanter – conducting), an ensemble of performers and composers, a group of variable size, in search of new possible relationships between sound and text, movement and music.

With nearly 300 creations, it is today one of the major relays of musical innovation. As a laboratory dedicated to creation, Ensemble Aleph gives young composers the benefit of its experience in a spirit of exchange and conviviality, notably within the framework of the International Forum of Young Composers (project selected in 2000 by the European Commission « Culture 2000 Program », with 61 composers from 26 countries – 8th Forum in 2017). The Ensemble Aleph nourishes its practice by a crossroads with jugglers, Vj’s, choreographers, directors, writers, actors… For more than 35 years, Ensemble Aleph has been developing collective projects, pooling efforts and sharing practices through more than 950 concerts.

The Ensemble ALEPH participated in numerous festivals of contemporary music: Musiques Démesurées (Clermont-Ferrand, 2006), International Gaudeamus Music Weeks (Amsterdam 2004, 2005, 2006), Festspielhaus Hellerau (Dresde 2004, 2005, 2006), Journées de la Musique Contemporaine (Cluny, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006), Estonian Music Days (Tallinn, 2006), Festival Aspekte (Salzburg, 2006), A Tempo (Caracas, 1997, 2004), Festival des orgues baroques du Haut Jura (2003), les Friches Musicales, Evry University (2003), Manca (Nice, 2002, 2006), Musica (Strasbourg, 1992, 1997 et 2000), Musique du 20e siècle (Angers, 1983 et 1986), Musique Action (Vandoeuvre Lès Nancy, 1995, 1997 et 2000), Rossini in Wilsbad (Allemagne, 2000), Sons d’Hiver (Val-de-Marne, 1996 et 1999), Time of Music à Viitasaari (Finlande, 1996, 2007), Musicavoix (Evreux, 1993, 1994, 1996 et 1998), 38° Rugissants (Grenoble, 1993 et 1995), Présences (Paris, 1995 et 1997), Musica Nova (Brésil, 1992), Festival de Mannheim, (Allemagne, 1990), Music On the Edge (Pittsburg 2004), Festival Musique en scène (Oullins 2000).

Réference: Ensemble Aleph

Jacques PUECH : voice, cabrette

Jacques Puech began learning the cabrette at the age of 7, which is part of the musical landscape of southern Cantal (Auvergne – France) where he grew up. In contact with the music of oral tradition on the one hand and experimental music on the other, he takes the cabrette into the whitewater of the variation while developing a style close to the primary animality of the sound of this bagpipe.

At the age of 26, he decided to become a professional musician and he trained as an artistic educator at the CEFEDEM AuRA. At the same time, he developed his singing practice based on the styles of the traditional music of the Massif Central and it is as a member of the collective La Nòvia that he opened himself to new sound experiences and refined his musical choices. Strengthed by his militant experience in the popular education association Les Brayauds-CDMDT63 (Auvergne), he assumed the roles of the collector, going to meet the inhabitants of the Massif Central within the framework of his activity in the AMTA (Agence des Musiques des Territoires de l’Auvergne).

Référence : La Nòvia

Noémi Lefebvre and Laurent Grappe

Accès à la version française
 


 

Noémi Lefebvre

Noémi Lefebvre was born in 1964 in Caen, and now lives in Lyon, France. After studying music and politics and completing a degree focused on music education and national identity in Germany and France, she became a political scientist at IEP – Grenoble II University. She is the author of three novels, all of which have garnered intense critical success: her first novel L’Autoportrait bleu (2009) has been translated into English by Sophie Lewis (Blue-self portrait, Les Fugitives, London, 2017). After that, she wrote L’état des sentiment à l’âge adulte (2012), L’enfance politique (2015) and Poétique de l’emploi (2018). She is a regular contributor to the independent online magazine Mediapart and to the bilingual French-German publication La mer gelée.
Éditions Verticales
Blog Médiapart

 

Laurent Grappe

Laurent Grappe, composer, musician. His work on the poetry of recorded sound has led him to compose a certain number of electroacoustic pieces for which he systematically creates a specific setting allowing a “staging” of the sound, whether live or recorded beforehand. In his proposals, he involves actors, musicians, visual artists, and sometimes even the public itself.

 

Chevaux Indiens

Video realized by the studio doitsu. Text: Noémi Lefebvre. Editing: Laurent Grappe. January 2019.

See with english subtitles

 

Noémi Lefebvre et Laurent Grappe

Access to the English translation
 


 

Noémi Lefebvre

Née en 1964 à Caen, Noémi Lefebvre vit à Lyon. Chez Verticales, elle a publié quatre fictions qui ont reçu un bel accueil critique et à l’étranger : L’Autoportrait bleu (2009 ; traduit en italien aux éditions Safara, en anglais par Sophie Lewis aux éditions Les Fugitives/Londres et Transit Books/USA, Canada, 2017), L’État des sentiments à l’âge adulte (2012), L’enfance politique (2015) et Poétique de l’emploi (2017, traduit en anglais par Sophie Lewis, éd. Les Fugitives, à paraitre en février 2021).
Sur son blog du club Mediapart, elle propose de nombreuses saynètes vidéo avec le compositeur Laurent Grappe.
Éditions Verticales

 

Laurent Grappe

Laurent Grappe, compositeur, musicien. Son travail sur la poésie du son enregistré l’a conduit à composer un certain nombre de pièces électroacoustiques pour lesquelles il crée systématiquement un dispositif spécifique permettant une « mise en scène » du son, que ce soit en direct ou enregistré en amont. Dans ses propositions, il fait intervenir des comédiens, musiciens, plasticiens, voire le public même.

 

Chevaux Indiens

Vidéo réalisée par le studio doitsu. Texte : Noémi Lefebvre. Montage : Laurent Grappe. Janvier 2019.