Announced several months ago, Disques 7ième Ciel’s 20th-anniversary concert was eagerly awaited by fans of hip-hop and rap keb. Founded by Steve Jolin aka Anodajay in 2003, the label has played an important role in the development of the musical genre in Quebec. Its roster includes FouKi, Koriass, Souldia, Manu Militari, Imposs and a host of other local artists. To celebrate, Jolin and his band put on a (very) long showcase-like performance, lasting over four hours, at the Bell Centre on Friday evening.

What better way to kick off the show than with owner Anodajay. Cheered by the crowd on arrival, he got the ball rolling with two of his own songs, including Le Beat à Ti-Bi, his famous song with Raôul Duguay. On stage, the Rouynorand native was alone, accompanied by a DJ and archive footage and video clips scrolling behind him. The rest of the evening unfolded with this minimalist approach and the sporadic appearance of a few musicians and backing singers.

After the opening set by Disques 7ième Ciel’s standard-bearer, veteran rappers Dramatik, Manu Militari and Koriass performed a series of their old songs, much to the delight of the more nostalgic fans in the room.

The show lasted two hours, most of the label’s artists having taken to the stage with two or three solo tracks. Souldia’s stage appearances were the loudest in the Bell Centre; the Prince of Limoilou has been cultivating an incredible connection with Quebec audiences for several years now. In addition to the headliners, Zach Zoya, the LaF collective and the Brown Family stood out from the crowd. Around 10 pm, an intermission is announced…

Twenty minutes later, Anodajay is back on stage and the show is back in full swing. In this second set, most of the artists return, and Koriass and Souldia are given plenty of space. As the evening wore on, the crowd slowly began to lose steam. Luckily, the various artists had reserved their most popular songs for the second half.

Around me, several rap fans quietly left their seats and headed for the exit. To describe the atmosphere, at times it felt like a bar where people were chatting and partying, with music playing in the background. The length and rather random sequencing of the various performances had a lot to do with this. You wanted rap, you got it!

Let’s focus on the positive. Over the course of four hours of rap, fans were treated to several highlights, including an excellent a cappella rap by Koriass, the presence of the great Diane Tell for a rendition of Jamais su with Anodajay, a remixed version of her famous song Souvent longtemps énormément, and an excellent cypher with most of the 7ième Ciel artisans to close this historic evening. The evening would have benefited even more from the creativity of this last segment.

Quebec hip-hop is doing well, very well indeed, and this great celebration is the umpteenth proof of that. Without Steve Jolin and Disques 7ième Ciel, we’d be light years ahead of where we are now as far as rap keb is concerned. It’s hard to say we’d have expected more from this show when we’ve been served up over 240 minutes of music, although everything could have been more concise and punchy.

But then again, it’s quite a challenge to pay tribute to so many years of Keb rap history in a single evening, 7ième Ciel style and the rendering did it justice nonetheless.

Souldia photo credit: @Play.fille Sarah-Maude Lessard

Last night, at the Maison symphonique de Montréal, an encounter took place that was both delightful (for some) and disconcerting (for others): a concept concert entitled Fragments, conducted intensely for two hours, solo, by cellist Alisa Weilerstein (Rafael Payare’s partner). How would you sum up the concept? There are six Suites for solo cello by Johann Sebastian Bach, as you probably already know. To each of these Suites, Weilerstein has added several compositions (also for solo cello) specially commissioned from a wide range of contemporary composers. Each suite becomes a cycle entitled Fragments (from 1 to 6).

Within these Fragments, everything is mixed between movements from the suites (not even played in the usual order, with the famous Prelude from the first suite arriving at the end of Fragment I!) and new compositions. The only consideration is that the sequences follow a dramatic and expressive arc, supported by a rather sober but subtly expressive staging. This is achieved through two fundamental elements: variously placed blocks/panels lit from within (each Fragment has its own particular “placement”), and dynamic general lighting that changes as the Fragment in question unfolds. In this way, each hour-long Fragment becomes a musical theater with a unique dramaturgy. As you will have gathered, Weilerstein did not play all six Fragments of his total project yesterday. The concert would have ended in the middle of the night! Instead, we were treated to the first two in the series.

Note that this concert is part of the Bach 2023 Festival program. The full program is online here.

But then, you’re here to find out if it was any good, aren’t you? Of course, it depends on individual sensibilities, but for my part, I’m very happy with the result, and I’m very keen to get to know the other four cycles in the series.

I’m not going to inundate you with a description of every piece linked to every other piece, and this Bach movement and that. That would be like describing a grocery list. Instead, I’ll try to characterize each of the two Fragments heard, because that’s the whole point: it’s an artistic proposition that puts Bach back into context within contemporary musical cycles with their own unique personalities. At least, that’s what I understood from the exercise.

Fragments I is organic, fluid and “pacifist”. The relationship between the contemporary pieces and those taken from the Suite G major, BWV 1007 (No. 1) is generally benevolent, although there are occasional contrasting flashes. Joan Tower, Reinaldo Moya, Chen Yi, Gil Schwarzmann and Allison Loggins-Hull have created a dialogue of post-minimalism, lyrical modernism and even Latin and Chinese sounds (very diluted, no pop “crossover” here) with the great Johann Sebastian. The scenography and lighting are made up of fairly obvious symbolic characterizations: the cubes/panels are arranged in a balanced manner, in a perfect semicircle and encircling the soloist like the interior of a temple. A stage on the stage. What’s more, they turn white for each Bach movement (a symbol of purity?). For the others, we have warm shades of red, blue and orange. The transitions between pieces are quite natural. We’re on an emotional journey here, offering viewers a surprising yet friendly introduction. The modernity of the new pieces is not astringent, though still demanding in terms of attentive listening.

Fragments II is different. From the outset, Weilerstein is herself in a different persona: dressed more “moderately” and, above all, coiffed in a “glam-rock” style. The music gets off to a flying start: a rhythmic, dynamic frontal attack with a piece by Quebecer Ana Sokolovic that spits its virulence at the audience. The message is out: we’re somewhere else. In fact, the whole of Fragment II is marked by a much more aggressive personality than the first (but not only, as a superb final episode in which Weilerstein sings a gentle lullaby while accompanying himself offers a moment of great poetic tenderness). Fragment II is a cycle of striking contrasts, in which Bach and our contemporaries collide and pit themselves against each other. But there is a dialogue. An argumentative dialogue in which we don’t always agree, but which nonetheless reflects a very current reality: not everything is rosy and harmonious in a world of good intentions. New ideas and perspectives are born of the clash. The staging, once again, clearly characterizes this personality: the cubes/panels are, this time, scattered around the stage, some lying down. One has the impression that the temple evoked in the first Fragment is now in ruins. Bach continues to be in white, but the stage lighting is much cruder than in the first part. Edge-on spotlights often assault the soloist. The pieces in this cycle don’t follow on from one another, but bump into one another. So it’s the worlds of Ana Sokolovic, Caroline Shaw, Gity Razaz, Daniel Kidane and Alan Fletcher that have the wrong role here: that of making Bach seem salvific in a world in perdition.

That said, the new works by these composers are not, in all honesty, that terrible. We’ve heard far worse. True, they are often rhythmically motoric, or dynamically explosive, but the discourses offered are comprehensible. All the pieces “tell” something, dramatically speaking, although it can be anything, and very different depending on who’s listening. My point is that there is no example anywhere of dodecaphonic or cerebral serial atonalism. Nor is there anything that could be called experimental avant-garde. Nor, conversely, is there anything frankly neo-classical/romantic or strictly minimalist. Perhaps this is where Weilerstein could have dug deeper, to give a more realistic portrait of today’s music. I admit that the cohesive work would have been tenfold. But no one says that true creation is simple.

The majority of the audience at the Maison symphonique, although not full, reacted favorably. Some of the audience didn’t return after the first Fragment, and a few left during the second. Still, there was an appreciable number of young people, and I didn’t think they were among the deserters! I’m just saying…

One colleague suggested that there might be no point in the exercise if Bach had to be “hijacked” (in his defence, I think he was referring to Weilerstein’s very full, romantic approach to playing in the Suites excerpts, but his general opinion of the concept wasn’t much more enthusiastic…). I wonder how we can still be at this point in our thinking. I can’t find the reference anymore (who said this at the time?), but Liszt’s arrangements of Beethoven’s symphonies for solo piano generated the same kind of reactions from certain “specialists” in the 19th century. And probably all “revisits” of the great classics throughout the history of creation.

Cellist Alisa Weilerstein’s approach is resolutely contemporary. Not in the sense of a harmonic and now academic avant-gardism that in fact goes back a full century. Rather, and essentially, in the sense of a posture of listening and conception of music that is truly contemporary, worthy of the 21st century and the era of Spotify playlists or those on our phones. Traditional conservatives continue to listen to music from an absolutist perspective, where the first movement comes before the 2nd, and an Allemande from the Suite in D minor, BWV 1008 (no. 2) does not logically follow a stylistically alien piece entitled With One Foot Heavy and the Other Light, Johanna and Anna Lilted Across Long Years (Microfictions vol.2, I). And yet, in the 21st century, the new “listening” is deconstructed in this way, especially among the younger generation. Weilerstein (and she’s not the only one) proposes a different narrative for the concert. A scenario in which the concert is no longer simply the mirror image of a well-honed, structured repertoire, or the parrot of a discursive conception based on a list of works “to be played”, in the right order and with the right complements. In this proposal, and following the example of radio, which in the past has freed itself from the structure of the concert, the Weilerstein-style concert today frees itself from the traditional layout in which it has been confined since the 19th century. The days of the live Overture-Concerto-Symphony program (for the orchestral version) are numbered. The recital, less constrained, is nevertheless challenged by these Fragments.

Is this a good thing? A bad thing? It’s a fact of life. It’s futile to oppose it for ideological reasons rooted in some rigid conception of good taste, or “relevance”. We’ve had quarrels between the “Moderns” and the “Ancients”, between the Brahms gang and the Wagner gang, and between the partisans of Boulez and those of Glass. Nonsense, all these certainties. None of these camps has made the other disappear or become obsolete.

Nor is it relevant whether what Alisa Weilerstein proposes with these Fragments will become a “fashionable” form or not. Or whether it heralds a total deconstruction of classical concert-listening forms. What is certain, however, is that the artist is exploring a highly topical and relevant need to rethink the way classical concerts are performed and listened to. This questioning is very contemporary and necessary, whether we like it or not. It’s gratifying, too, because it shows that classical music continues to raise questions and that a younger generation is ready to experiment with it, not only by writing about it but also by presenting it in its own way and according to its own codes. That tells me it’s alive and well, and I’m very happy about that.

Weilerstein (who played spectacularly with an astonishing diversity of textures and sonorities) may not have found the magic formula (I’m sure there isn’t one anyway!), but she offered an idea and gave us a “show” whose “sequel” I can’t wait to hear.

The OSM continues the “Beethoven” parenthesis of its season with a concert echoing the previous one. Like the concert featuring the Violin Concerto, the graceful, dance-like 7th Symphony is presented in context with composers who have challenged classical composition.

It was the theme for both concerts. The first Viennese school (Haydn, Mozart and above all Beethoven) is set against, or rather in perspective with, the second (Schoenberg, Berg and Webern). We don’t seem to have the chance to hear any Schoenberg this year at the OSM, but Anton Webern was in the spotlight in October, and this time it was Alban Berg who was on the program.

Subtly enough, one senses that it was Berg’s works that shaped the program, even if their presence is invisible in the title of the concert. The Three Pieces for Orchestra are complex and stunning. The contrasts and thunderous percussion are breathtaking. The aggressive sonorities of the score startle and astonish. The stage was packed, with a powerful orchestra playing very loudly, even too loudly at times. Berg’s second piece, the Violin Concerto, often called “In Memory of an Angel”, is often considered the culmination of twelve-tone language. You can sense pain and sadness in the sinuous melodic lines that seem impossible to resolve. Soloist Augustin Hadelich delivers a crystalline, controlled and hypnotic performance. The score being technically difficult and highly unpredictable, the performance of these two works was certainly a daunting challenge for the orchestra and Hadelich, but one that was brilliantly met. The soloist thanked the audience with an encore, the Andante from Bach’s Sonata No. 2.

Beethoven’s 7th Symphony announced in the concert title, is a work of incomparable elegance and majesty. Considered by many to be the “apotheosis of dance,” it’s easy to imagine oneself at a grand ball in the Prince’s palace, with the court in its finest attire. A more controlled opening paves the way for an interpretation based on a gradual but constant rise in intensity. The orchestra’s musicians seem to know the score by heart, and Christophe Eschenbach’s direction is effective. Seemingly very square, his movements indicate his investment in the various sections. This is an interesting way to appreciate both the Beethoven piece and the Berg pieces.

Obviously, the magnificent and much-acclaimed second movement of the Symphony steals the show. Still, there’s a certain pleasure in seeing the orchestra bring out the best in the other movements, especially the third and fourth, which are played with all the intensity we’ve come to expect from the current artistic direction.

Beethoven will be back in the spotlight in April 2024 with a visit from Kent Nagano. For more details on upcoming concerts, visit the OSM page HERE.

Photo credit : Antoine Saito

The day after the Gala de l’ADISQ 2023, what could be better than to see on stage the trio formed by the recipient of the Félix for “Revelation of the Year” in 2022, Ariane Roy, and two former nominees in this category in 2019 and 2021, Lou-Adriane Cassidy and Thierry Larose.

After reuniting on stage for a memorable concert at the Francos 2022, the three singer-songwriters announced a short nine-show tour last June. In front of a packed Club Soda on Monday night, Le Roy, La Rose & Le Lou[p] put in an excellent performance, worthy of their talent.

As the curtain rises, the three artists introduce themselves to the audience, each seated on a chair, guitar in hand. In this acoustic opener, they perform their band’s theme song, followed by a solo track from each member. It’s immediately clear that this is no simple show. The various songs are re-imagined as a trio, giving life to a superb version of Cantalou, adorned with Cassidy and Roy’s harmonies.

From the outset, a special connection is established between them and the audience. Almost silent at times, the crowd admires the talent unfolding before them. However, this short guitar-vocal moment was far from being a harbinger of the rest of the show…

At the end of the more intimate segment, Thierry, Lou-Adriane and Ariane get up and their band takes to the stage. The rhythm becomes frantic, and the drums and guitars go wild. Their voices blend perfectly. The three protagonists’ proposal is rock, it’s hair-raising and it gets Club Soda moving.

The three members jump, dance and smile at each other; their fun is contagious. They exchange the lead role as we browse through their respective discographies. The result is coherent, and we salute all the work that went into putting together such an evening.

Ce qui monte doit redescendre (What goes up must come down), Le Roy, La Rose & Le Lou[p] offered the audience a moment of gentleness and calm at the end of the show. At the piano and accompanied by Ariane Roy’s voice, Lou-Adriane Cassidy sang Ça va ça va. Her gentleness charmed those present and was unequivocally one of the highlights of the show.

After the song Les amants de Pompéi, carried along by the crowd’s singing, Thierry Larose cried out “Vive la musique québécoise! twice. If the art of these three promising artists doesn’t convince you that good music can be made here, you might as well call yourself a lost cause…

Photo credit: Jacob Langlois-Pelletier