POP MTL: A European Speakesy Bar, A Thousand Kilometres Underground with TUKAN
by Léa Dieghi
Last night at Bar Le Ritz PDB, TUKAN took flight on the Quebec scene, deploying an array of multicoloured feathers and sounds. And it was as part of POP Montreal 2025 that the Brussels-based four-piece band came to rock the Montreal dance floor.
The concert, opened by Canadian band Poets’ Workout Soundsystem, got off to a furious start. This band, which is very mysterious on social media, is a well-kept secret on the Montreal music scene. Performing with minimalism in their staging (two people, a projector, a microphone, a drum machine, a tracksuit), Bar le RitZ PDB immersed itself in the energy of rebellious poetry. The beats are as simple as the stage design, but what matters is the message. Resistance, anti-capitalism, communion. Whether you like the format or not, the message seems, nowadays, to come from a feeling that many share. A necessary message: we are not alone, even in the chaos of this society that seems to divide us all. This shouted slam, set to an electronic backdrop, was a kind of catharsis before TUKAN’s show, which quickly took over.
Drums, synthesizers, guitar, piano, analogue machines… TUKAN is the meeting point between four individuals, between different sounds, instruments and genres, but also between them and us. As the performance progresses, the audience cannot remain stoic in the face of the complicity between the members, which translates into music. They seem to communicate through sound, one speaks, the other responds. The sounds flow with a certain simplicity, and soon it’s as if we’ve been transported far away from the North American continent. This performance, a hybrid of jazz, post-rock, psychedelic and electronic music, transports us to a speakeasy a thousand miles underground in Europe.
Dim lighting, dancing bodies, four passionate, sublime artists. It’s groovy, danceable, sometimes transcendental and dreamy. You can definitely feel the European touch in this crossover of genres. Playing several tracks from their latest album Human Drift, released in 2025, as well as older ones, they took us on a journey through their universe for an evening. And for a moment, I missed Europe. Fortunately, music can be exported, and these artists have the opportunity to come and play, whether at a festival or not, here at home in Montreal. It was TUKAN live for POP MTL, and it was good, really good!
Wednesday evening, we entered the Rialto as if we were descending into a church basement. The atmosphere resembled that of a clandestine assembly. Barely a handful of spectators had turned out for Erika Hagen’s opening act, then stayed for Michel Pagliaro… The motley crowd, ranging from twentysomethings to octogenarians, was lined up in two rows of chairs arranged in a half-moon. Gripped by a parasocial nervousness, everyone waited feverishly to see if their memory of Pag would match the performance that was about to begin.
“Come on, I feel like I’m in the Grand Canyon,” Pag says, annoyed by the sound, before moving on completely. “That’s rock and roll!” he adds, introducing his band before the first note even hits.
No nasty surprises. Proud behind his sunglasses, Pag is true to himself, legendary and full of voice. After the third song, Dangereux, the atmosphere heats up. The Rialto fills up. The sedentary crowd abandons their seats to head upstage. It sounds like a ton of bricks, a concrete setlist, just hits, obviously. Good for us, since in this style, any kind of half-measure is prohibited.
Guitarist Corey Diabo knows all the notes. The gentlemen play air guitar, hoping to catch Diabo’s eye during his many solos. The most dashing of them smiles: “You need to relax and let yourself go, young people!” The invitation to dance is unequivocal. I join them.
Far from the Jonquière riots, the army wasn’t invited this time. Fifty years later, less beer is sold, but songs that, like Pag and his voice, bear the marks of time beautifully.
Jean Jean Roosevelt and Ballaké Sissoko: A Haiti-Mali Connection
by Sandra Gasana
It’s not often that African communities, as diverse as they may be, and the Haitian community come together in the same space for a performance. Well, that was the case last night, during the concert at Balattou featuring Haitian artist Jean Jean Roosevelt and his special guest Ballaké Sissoko, a kora virtuoso from Mali.
The evening began with a solo performance by Jean Jean Roosevelt, playing guitar and vocals, during which he performed “Dessine ta destin”. Clearly, his fan club was well and truly present at the Balattou, as they could be heard singing along to the artist’s most popular songs, such as “Agoye” and “Acclimatisation”.
“Tonight, I am not alone, I have the honor of welcoming Ballaké Sissoko,” he announced to a standing ovation, before singing “L’Île de Gorée.” Very humbly, the kora master sat down at his instrument, before mixing it with Jean Jean’s guitar. Time stood still, silence reigned in the performance hall, apart from a few noisy spectators who disturbed their neighbors nearby.
On several occasions, Jean Jean involved the audience, who played along quite well. He is one of the few artists who has contributed to bringing African and Haitian peoples closer together. This initiative is a concrete example. One could feel the complicity between the two artists, and at times, Ballaké would make sounds like “yeah” when Jean Jean sang, seeming to approve of what he was hearing.
Then it was Jean Jean’s turn to leave us with Ballaké so he could have his solo moment as well. And off we went again for a soaring session. His fingering on the strings of the kora was both dazzling and soothing, his body movements following the rhythms of the sounds emitted by his instrument.
My favorite moment will be the song in which he pays tribute to his 13-year-old daughter, Maimouna, who was born prematurely. We didn’t want the song to end, and when it did, the audience rose to their feet for a second standing ovation.
“Behind this concert, there is a woman who made it all possible. She knew Ballaké, she put us in touch, and today we are here!” Jean Jean told us between two songs, before introducing us to a certain Nadine.
The concert ended with a return to the duo format of the two artists, between guitar and kora, and this time Jean Jean had two microphones at his disposal, switching from one to the other according to the desired effects. In the song “Libres ensemble,” he also inserts Lingala, the language spoken in the Democratic Republic of Congo, another indicator of the artist’s curiosity and artistic openness. He seemed very moved after the song, which calls on Africans to visit Haiti. He ended strongly with “Pinga,” which got the Balattou moving before closing the evening. All the kora and West African music lovers in general were present and rushed to Ballaké Sissoko for photos while Jean Jean’s fan club rushed to greet their favorite artist. We should have more of these spaces of communion between Africa and Haiti, rather than seeing them as silos. One thing is certain: Jean Jean Roosevelt will be one of the precursors.
Benevolent sisterhood of Les Veilleuses (the Watchers) at Bourgie Hall
by Frédéric Cardin
Nine women on stage, in a kind of grand theatrical gesture where all facets of a rich and complex sisterhood are evoked. From (mostly) benevolence to abandonment, from exclusion to reconciliation.
Les Veilleuses (The Watchers), by Simon Renaud (choreography and conception) and Romain Camiolo (music), thus rose on Wednesday evening at the Bourgie Hall of the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. A rare incursion of the classical music hall into the world of dance (the first? I can’t confirm it…), but a very nice success. It must be said that the Veilleuses show is as much choreographic as it is musical. Six of the nine performers are singers in real life: Marie-Annick Béliveau, Salomé Karam, Kathy Kennedy, Elizabeth Lima, Hélène Picard and Ellen Wieser. They teamed up with professional dancers Marie-Hélène Bellavance, Nasim Lootij and Ingrid Vallus.
Of course, the dancers were not asked to sing fully, nor the singers to perform too acrobatic contortions, but the staging clearly aimed to integrate all the participants into a single community, that of these women of various sizes and builds, though not too heterogeneous. In a rather abstractly suggestive way, these women went through the hour-ish of the show to express different states of mind and above all the means to face them together, sometimes disunited, or to share them among all.
The play unfolds at a slow and measured pace. These women move in a world of mutual feeling that takes the time to express itself and be welcomed. It is the music that serves as a powerful bond for the psycho-emotional whole of the performance, supporting the visual coherence of the costumes, which are dresses of different chromatic hues related to yellow-orange-brown-ochre. The said music, all vocal (except for a pre-recorded electro drone acting as a harmonic cushion) and essentially tonal, is of course performed by the group’s singers, who act both as the emotional embodiment of each individual unit but also as a coalescence of the group relationship. Camiolo’s score is beautiful and seems to progress, at least that’s the impression I got, according to a historical chronological evolution.
At the very beginning, the voices take on a collective appearance of a Greek chorus, in a modal-type expression that subtly evokes something very ancient, perhaps archaic. Further on, one hears something like a mediaeval air. Further on, it gets closer to folk or popular song. But these are brief moments, emerging from a more ample and sustained framework of long melodic lines that would not displease several current composers working in neo-mystical choral music. On a few occasions, the harmonies tighten, until they reach saturation and a rough screech. It is in these moments, as the composer pointed out in the interview I conducted with him and the choreographer about the show (INTERVIEW TO LISTEN TO HERE), that the women of this symbolist sorority seem to drift away from each other and dissolve their bonds. The tactic is simple, but effective.
Ultimately, Les Veilleuses is a fairly accurate and poetic look at the strength, but also the perils, of a female community that has, for millennia now, had to stand together in the face of adversity and hold hands in bright episodes.
Les Veilleuses is a beautiful and complete show, complex but not hermetic, and above all perfectly suited to a wide range of engagements: in dance festivals as well as music or transdisciplinary proposals. A perfectly adequate launch for the Bourgie Hall’s Arts croisés (Crossed arts) series.
Les Veilleuses is a coproduction between Amour Amour, Salle Bourgie, Chants Libres and Corpuscule Danse
Pop Montreal 2025 I múm’s Hypnotic Mood and Underlying Silence
by Loic Minty
The crowd filled the hazy Théâtre Fairmount. Comprising long-time fans of the cult band and the usual Pop Montreal music lovers, the crowd was hungry for something out of the ordinary. Since its conception in the original wave of indietronica, múm has been known for its eclectic clash of personalities and an explorative approach, especially in its live performances.
Last night’s show did not quite live up to the expectation of more free-form music, but the band still managed to create a unique atmosphere which could lose yourself in. Slow tempos, industrial electronic samples, and shoegazey guitars gave off that uncanny 90’s trip-hop feeling—the kind of moodiness that is both an elixir and a poison, that you want to rest in, but not too long. Thankfully, it was well emotionally balanced and featured lighter, melodic pieces that brought up the mood; the cello player’s stage presence was elegant and captivating.
But between moody orchestration and high, airy voices, it felt as if there was something missing in the mix, perhaps the absence of bass, that made the rhythms feel hollow. Even though everyone was in the pocket and the drummer had a great understanding of dynamics, the songs all had an underlying silence that maybe did not fit well with the space. Oddly enough, while one of the members played the melodica, I imagined being next to the ocean or somewhere in an Icelandic forest.
Although the music itself did not fully connect, there was not one member who was not giving it their all, and at the end of the day, it’s the passion and dedication that fans relentlessly show up for. múm is clearly dedicated to their craft and looks like a very interesting bunch with potential to think outside the box; it would be unwise to underestimate their artistry, as their live show will only continue to evolve after the recent release of their new album, History of Silence.
About a week ago, the Canadian baroque pop prince, Andy Shauf, was back in Montreal, only this time it was with one of his first real bands, Foxwarren. Named after a very tiny town in Manitoba, Foxwarren graced the Theatre Fairmount stage to support their second album, 2. My party and I were a bit late and only caught the tail end of the opener, Allegra Krieger, but the whole last song I heard was stripped back and emotional. As Krieger wielded her finger-picked electric, I felt the kinship with another alt indie singer songwriter, Margaret Glaspy—at least her earlier EP work.
Foxwarren opened their set with the slow disco tinged 2 opener, “Dance.” Shauf was on rhythm guitar and the sampler, which he used for some 808 drum action and samples of old ’50s and ’60s romance movies, which you can hear all throughout 2. I honestly could have done with more movie sampling live, that we hear on the album, as it ties a nice bow on the whole thematic feeling. Still, Foxwarren put on a hell of a show. The rest of the band: Dallas Bryson, brothers Avery Kissick & Darryl Kissick, and Colin Nealis, all played with the kind of chemistry that they have been a band for decades, well, at least two decades. The stage banter was really minimal, save for a few “hellos,” and “thank yous” from the quiet and docile Shauf.
Nealis is a newer addition, but the core four-piece Bryson, the brothers Kissick and Shauf have been making music together before Andy Shauf’s huge critically acclaimed 2016 album, The Party. Highlights of this live show were definitely the funky “Deadhead,” my personal favourite on 2, “Yvonne,” and of course the band hit, “Sunset Canyon.” We also got an encore of Andy Shauf’s “Green Glass,” a song I never thought I would hear live. Yes, Foxwarren deserves all of the praise, even outside of the Andy Shauf connect.
Codes d’accès: A Beacon of Tomorrow’s Sound
by Loic Minty
In stillness, face to face with the audience, the focus narrowed down to every single expression, movement and silence between breaths. Rebecca Gray showed us that it doesn’t take an orchestra to fill the stage. Each second of her performance was rich with intention, and a courage to put it all out there that surpasses any instrumentation, as far as soulful expression goes. It was humorous, virtuous and most importantly, brilliantly composed, with a repertoire that exposed the underlying theme of uncanny dialogue and brought to light Grey’s genius acting skills.
The music was contemporary to say the least, or in her own words “off the wall.” As her consciousness jerked back and forth between characters, so did her voice. High trills, percussive tones, laughs and other simply indescribable sounds. If we were at a psychiatric hospital she may have gone unnoticed, but here at Sala Rosa, everyone’s jaw dropped.
Her collaboration with playright Sarah Pittman entitled Deer Opera, truly stole the night. As much as it was unconventional collaboration, the humour was deeply relatable and the addition of a simple bright light to separate the parallel storylines brought it all together. The story’s arc unfolded seamlessly, culminating in a satisfying moment of realization that had us looking like deer caught in headlights. With its acting, script, and minimalist scenography so refined, the piece hardly feels like a debut; it has the maturity of something that’s already circled the world.
The night ended with a beautiful instrumental piece by emerging local composers. With sharp breaks, fast sections and solos, it was a piece that visibly demanded high skill, and the performers, mostly all classically trained, delivered these crucial moments with near mechanical precision. Between screeching strings played over soft electric piano chords, and the diaphonic sounds of the saxophone and flute, it was a beautiful interplay between tension and relief. The general ethereal quality of the composition gave the impression of being caught in Studo Ghibli film and the night ended leaving us to bathe in wonder.
Codes d’accès opened its season with a resounding success, musical in every sense of the word. From raw, untamed expression verging on performance art, to the attentive immersion of an electroacoustic work, to the effortless magic of a finely composed contemporary piece performed by skilled musicians. The evening spanned the full spectrum of musical experience. Their approach of supporting emerging artists consistently yields surprising and compelling results, offering a glimpse of the music yet to come.
Viagra Boys’ Infinite Anxiety Tour at MTelus brought a sweaty fever dream of depravity. Lead vocalist Sebastian Murphy slithered onto the stage, shirtless and covered in trad tattoos, looking like he’d been marinated in cheap whiskey and questionable life choices. His greasy hair hung on top of his head, sad short curtains above a face that’s seen the bottom of many bottles, as well as jet-black shades hiding his eyes. The rest of the band; Linus Hillborg (guitar), Elias Jungqvist (keyboards), Henrik “Benke” Höckert (bass), Tor Sjödén (drums), and Oskar Carls (saxophone), all dove into the festering heavy indie rock intro of “Man Made of Meat,” and Murphy smiled menacingly before growling, “Alright, OK…”
BODEGA
The crowd was ready for Viagra Boys, properly prepared by the opening band, post/art punk New Yorkers, BODEGA, who began the night with an air of absurdism. Bodega’s music is satirical, a stab at the establishment with blistering punk anthems, and damn is it fun. Vocalist/percussionist/sample player, Nikki Belfiglio, is front and centre, slapping on her hi-hat and crooning along with vocalist/guitarist, Ben Hozie, about consumerism and the strangeness of online culture.
BODEGA
“We’re Bodega, not the AI band, Nodega, so if you see those guys, tell them to fuck off,” Belfiglio yells before launching into “Thrown.” BODEGA has tons of energy and has something to say with every song, but if you really boil it down, their songs, besides maybe the closer “Tarkovski,” are straightforward punk to get you moving. They were the perfect opener for the sleazy Viagra Boys.
BODEGA
The blast of Viagra Boys’ “Ain’t No Thief” hit like a backhand from your dealer, all grinding bass and saxophone that sounded like it was huffing paint fumes. Murphy’s voice – part lounge singer, part lizard– crawled over the crowd like a hangover you can’t shake. He moved like a broken marionette, all jerky spasms and hip thrusts, wilding his fabulous gut. Everyone in the pit was soaked in beer and bad decisions. The air was thick with cigarette smoke (most likely from Murphy’s own cigarette he used as a conductor’s baton), and desperation. Bodies pressed together in the sticky darkness, moving to the illegal rhythms.
Viagra Boys
“This song is about staying at home and not doing anything and just being a general piece of shit,” Murphy says before launching into “Waterboy,” from the latest album viagr aboys. Murphy’s stage banter was pure gutter philosophy—rambling about failed relationships, bad habits, and why healthcare can’t fix what’s really wrong with you—i.e. the “Pyramid of Health.” There was one moment of genuine activism as Murphy said we as a society are regressing back into a period of pure fascism. “We are living like it’s fuckin’ 1933 man, we have to stay together, and I will say Free Palestine!” Viagra Boys then launched into “Troglodyte,” about the keyboard warriors who sit at home trolling and right wing conspiracy theorists.
“Medicine For Horses,” was absolutely gorgeous, showing that Murphy has the chops to really sing with a sombre and tenor that can stop you in your tracks. Of course, the absurdism continued as Murphy collapsed on stage and began rambling about shrimps learning to play sports (this is Shrimpech, of course). “I’m sorry to get all emotional but that last song was really sad for me and this next one is too.” They launched into “Sports,” and Höckert’s saxophone went absolutely feral, squealing like a wounded animal in a back-alley deal gone wrong. The sound was so dirty you could practically feel it leaving stains on your soul. Murphy writhed against the mic, sweat pouring down his face in rivulets of pure sleaze. The encore consisted of another viagr aboys single “The Bog Body,” followed by “ADD,” and perhaps the slowest Viagra Boys song, “Worms.”
“At the end of the day, man, we’re all just worm food,” Murphy says, leaving the night on a sweaty, yet truthful statement.
Shared listening room with Quasar – saxophone quartet and Trio Zukan
by Frédéric Cardin
A quartet on one side, a trio on the other. Four Montreal-based saxophones (Quasar) there, an accordion, percussion and a txistu from Basque country (Trio Zukan) on opposite. Sorry? A what? A txistu, a traditional Basque flute, played vertically like a recorder. In short, all these people gathered on Thursday evening, September 18, 2025, at the Orange Space of the Wilder in Montreal, in the Quartier des spectacles. Chambre d’écoute (Listening Room), the title of the concert but also of the first piece in the program order, offered five compositions by four composers, three of whom unified the two ensembles. If the title piece, by Chantale Laplante, was interesting, ambient-wise, it was the two works by the Quebecer Émilie Girard-Charest that most impressed your humble chronicler.
Firmly rooted in a well-educated contemporary soundscape, Girard-Charest’s music possesses a quality that too few of her equivalents claim: an attention to stimulating and captivating narrative construction. Atonal, experimental, fragmented, the young artist’s pen is nevertheless attached, at least that’s what I perceived, to the construction and expression of a story. Which one? That’s up to you, but what is certain is that music lovers are taken somewhere, and this is thanks to a generally easily understandable architecture, both for seasoned ears and for the simply curious/bold, without expertise.
In the two scores proposed by the composer, Artefaktuak and Quantum Statistical Zero-Knowledge, it was the first one that made the best impression on me. Written specifically for the Zukan trio, Artefaktuak is made up of two sections with simple and effective textural contrasts, followed by a short and lively conclusion. The first of the sections is built with pointillist sounds that are accentuated by the gestures of the artists on stage. The physical gesture leading to the sound is just as important here as the sound itself. The second part uses rubbed sounds, more sustained over time, like a bow on the vibraphone, for example. Each of the sections is deployed in a dynamic and energetic crescendo leading to its end.
Quantum Statistical Zero-Knowledge is written for the unified quartet and trio, in a tripartite structure of intense-calm-intense where the two outer movements are particularly dense, even saturated to the point of noise, while the central movement provides a desirable dose of soothing. Quantum mechanics, this scientific branch that accounts for the mechanisms existing in the infinitely small, sub-atomic levels, reveals astonishing realities, such as entanglement or the simultaneity of contrary states. If Quantum Statistical Zero-Knowledge does not offer a particularly destabilising incarnation of musical possibilities, it is nevertheless a piece that knows how to maintain the interest of listeners, even the most profane. In itself, it is already a success, especially in the field of very complex music.
The Concerto grosso by Miguel Matamoro is full of colours, just like the compositions of the same type from the Baroque era, while Jalkin by Ramon Lazkano, with quite predictable sound dots and strokes, seemed to me to be the most conformist work of the lot.
Snake Church – II
by Loic Minty
Between Nordic spa and spaceship sound design from the 1970s, the echoey Casa became a ship caught in warp at the speed of shortening days. Slow, almost imperceptible movements turned two hours into the snap of a finger, drawing us into the deep ambiances of Ben Grossman and Micheal Mucci, known together as Snake Church.
Shaped by a hurdy gurdy and a lap string instrument processed through modular synthesizers, their sound evoked a longing, cathartic mood reminiscent of Puce Marie’s A Feast Before the Drought: high-pitch wails like a ship horn across the Atlantic, and long weaves of muddy, inharmonic textures in the mid-range. Though the melodic content remained mostly static, the modulated resonance of strings through smooth, granulated textures echoed the spirit of Eliane Radigue’s Opus 17, the inspiration for this concert series. Like Radigue’s final feedback works, their music is perpetually transforming, binding past and future into an in-between state pulsating with life.
Midway through this journey, they shifted upward in quarter-tone increments to a new key. The sirens dissolved into ethereal clouds, scattered like dappled sunlight. The ship docked in another green world, and the bass motors fell silent, leaving everything in suspension. As the long ending allowed the dust to settle, silence returned, no longer shy or ominous, but welcoming. Applause mixed with snake hisses and laughter as the lights came back on and the Mardi Spaghetti regulars gathered to talk. For the first of this new Opus 17 concert series, the turnout was strong, and anticipation is high for what these organizers will present next.
Hermeto Pascoal and The ONJ | A Brilliant Performance in Memory of The Late Genius
by Michel Labrecque
My colleague Alain Brunet once wrote: “Hermeto Pascoal must be considered an absolute genius.” This Brazilian multi-instrumentalist, little known in our part of the world, has produced a unique blend of Brazilian music, jazz, experimental music, and everything in between.
By pure coincidence, the Montreal National Jazz Orchestra’s tribute concert, which had been in preparation for a long time, was presented five days after his death. The guest conductor, Jovino Santos Neto, is a longtime companion of Hermeto Pascoal, which added a great deal of emotion. All the more so because Jovino speaks excellent French and was able to easily convey this emotional palette to us.
For fans of Hermeto’s music, myself included, one question remained. How would this jazz big band be able to translate the genius’s often fragmented and unconventional music? Sometimes there is only a piano solo, sometimes indigenous flutes, sometimes an accordion?
The answer came quickly, right from the first piece, “Apresentação.” It turns out that O Bruxo (the wizard), as he is nicknamed, has already written arrangements for big bands. However, the musicians had to step out of their comfort zone, starting the piece with vocal onomatopoeia.
The brass arrangements were astonishing! And the orchestra was furiously tight. It sounded great despite the console failure at the beginning of the concert. “Brasil Universo” followed, and we were floating. It grooved seriously, with the atonal slips that are Hermeto’s trademark.
It quickly became apparent that Jovino was enjoying conducting this group. When the console was restored (it had apparently died at the beginning of the concert), he sat down at the piano to play two solo pieces by Pascoal, and we were levitating! That said, Marianne Trudel played the piano for almost the entire concert, and she did so very, very well, as usual. There was an obvious rapport between her and Jovino, who she had met in Brazil a long time ago.
The next part of the concert was a little more traditional jazz, albeit sophisticated. And the audience seemed to love it. The ONJ featured a guest percussionist, Brazilian Carlos Henrique Feitosa. There were lots of solos; saxophonist David Bellemare was in brilliant form, as was Jean-Pierre Zanella, the most Brazilian of Quebec saxophonists.
It ended on a high note with “Piramide,” during which the whole band went wild. And “Obrigado Mestre”(Thank you, Master), at the end of which Jovino Santos Neto had to wipe away a few tears.
In short, the skeptics were proven wrong and we had a wonderful evening. The ONJM’s next concert will take place on October 30 and will feature music by female composers. See you there!
A virtuoso of agricultural posture because he cares about the fate of our small planet and is dedicated to building bridges between culture and organic farming, violinist Emmanuel Vukovich continued his summer concert series on Sunday in this concert hall set up at the Cadet Roussel farm in the rural municipality of Mont Saint-Grégoire in Montérégie. The public recording of the premiere of three violin-piano duets by the composer was an uplifting experience for the small audience in attendance, and will likely be so for those who immerse themselves in this audio and video recording.
Prior to this concert on Sunday, September 14, we discussed this project with the three artists directly involved: Emmanuel, Canadian pianist and conductor Maria Fuller (from Saskatchewan), and American composer Sheila Silver (upstate New York), for the public recording of Resilient Earth. In a context of great environmental fragility, the inspiration of a response from our planet to the harmful actions of humankind is more than legitimate.
With this in mind, Sheila Silver has composed a work for violin and piano in three distinct parts. It is an extension of Resilient Earth, four caprices for solo violin composed between the summer of 2020 and February 2022. During the pandemic, the composer reflected on the ongoing destruction of our environment and became interested in ecological solutions to remedy it. A recording was made, and the performer and composer agreed to continue the experiment with these brand new duets.
From the outset, Béla Bartók’s Romanian Folk Dances, masterfully performed by Emmanuel Vukovich and his colleague Maria Fuller, are clearly inspired by Balkan folklore, gradually migrating towards modernity to conclude in a powerful jig, percussive on the keyboards and strongly emphasized in the violin attacks. Composed 110 years ago, these dances heralded Bartók’s immense contribution to the modern adventure of music in the 20th century. We were therefore on familiar ground before moving on to the main course, Sheila Silver’s three duets.
Trees come from the Skies unfolds slowly with its harmonic progression on the keyboard, exploring harmonies that are clearly modern—from the first three decades of the 20th century. This work evokes the miracle of the forest as felt by the composer, the ability of trees to regenerate themselves and provide us with oxygen. The melodic phrases of the violin allow for beautiful flights into the high frequencies, and we then appreciate the dialogue between the pizzicato violin and the piano, which the motifs feed beautifully. In short, this is a neo-modern offering that any classical music lover should understand without difficulty.
We move on to Photosynthesis – Magic, an ode to photosynthesis and the Earth’s capacity for regeneration. The piece calms down for a moment, until it takes on a compound meter, allowing the two instruments to superimpose a contrapuntal discourse. This, incidentally, is reminiscent of Bartok-style Balkan modernism, which softens and offers magnificent piano motifs allowing the violin to develop a complementary discourse. The tempo changes add to the theatricality of the sound.
The climax is reached with Dracula Reimagined, undoubtedly the most violent of Sheila Silver’s three offerings. Forearms pressed against the keyboard, ten fingers digging deep into the ivory keys, atonal motifs, violent cadences, an organized maelstrom—this is a beautiful shortcut to a hybrid discourse built on modern harmonies from the previous century. In short, the forms observed in these three works are familiar and well-digested, even those in Dracula Reimagined, which are more violent and atonal at times. Sheila Silver prefers to create a beautiful set of references rather than impose new ones, much to the delight of her audience.
In conclusion, the second part of this delicious modern sandwich was served up, namely Béla Bartók’s Rhapsody for Violin and Piano No. 1 and Maurice Ravel’s Gypsy Rhapsody. The choice of Bartók and Ravel to open and close the program was not random; it fits perfectly with Sheila Silver’s neo-modern aesthetic, which nevertheless draws on more recent aesthetic periods without disrupting anything we know about them.
It goes without saying that such immersion in this musical modernity remains and will remain a most enriching experience for the vast majority of music lovers accustomed to baroque, classical, or romantic references. Here is another key to unlocking the doors to the present.
PROGRAM : Romanian Folk Dances – Béla Bartók
Trees come from the Skies – Sheila Silver
Photosynthesis – Magic – Sheila Silver
Dracula Reimagined – Sheila Silver
Rhapsodie pour violon et piano n° 1 – Béla Bartók
Rhapsodie tzigane de concert – Maurice Ravel
MUSICIANS :
Maria Fuller – piano Emmanuel Vukovich – violin
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