It would have been difficult to make a more contrasting concert program than last night at La Chapelle Scènes contemporaines. Québec Musiques Parallèles presented a double program dedicated, in the first part, to Rimes défaites par le Sphinx (Rimes Defeated by the Sphinx) by Geneviève Ackermann, for two voices and two guitars in just intonation, and then, in the second part, to the project Mes fantômes (My Ghosts) by Érick D’Orion, which I have mentioned in its recently released discographic version.
READ MY REVIEW OF THE ALBUM MES FANTÔMES BY ÉRICK D’ORION
As much as Ackermann’s work is refined, poetic, and meticulous in its details, D’Orion’s is maximalist, fragmented, noise-driven, and profoundly enjoyable. Rimes défaites par le Sphinx is a cycle of songs, performed by Geneviève Ackermann herself and Florence Tremblay on vocals, accompanied by the classical guitars of Francis Brunet-Turcotte and Alexandre Éthier. The songs, as I mentioned, are constructed according to the principle of just intonation, a scale of 22 notes (the normal scale contains 12) which therefore includes intermediate tones between the usual flats/sharps. It is therefore a form of microtonality, but due to its structural rigour, I fancy calling it “tempered microtonality.” The result is both disconcerting (at first) and strangely pleasant. Sometimes it feels like hearing a marriage between mediaeval Ars nova and the creations of Meredith Monk. It’s beautiful and subtle, it’s very delicate, and the performers are excellent. Ackermann and Tremblay managed to adjust their sometimes (apparently) fragile harmonies with aplomb. Next to them, Éthier and Brunet-Turcotte made their scores appear easy, which are, in truth, dreadfully complex to interpret, and this on guitars specially designed for the cause of perfect intonation. Yes, like for Angine de Poitrine, but with more advanced results and, curiously, not always as “weird.” The fact is that the microtonality used here is not as much cosmetic, like with the duo from Saguenay. So, there’s no need to “show” it in the same way. It is there, like an echo, or like ghosts distilled in a general factory that ultimately appears to us, strangely “normal.”
Speaking of ghosts, those of Érick D’Orion in the second part had enough to haunt us long after being summoned on stage. The principle of the Montrealer’s music, accompanied by musicians from Saguenay (and Bernard Falaise replacing Michel Potiron on guitar), is to let the artists interpret his ideas without ignoring their personal “ghosts,” or their stylistic influences, if you prefer. The aesthetic of D’Orion is firmly rooted in extreme rock and noise music. But what we heard (and which is not just a repeat of the album) was full of multiple references, both instilled by the composer (and conductor for the occasion) and expressed with individuality by the artists, all very good (hats off to them: Stéphane Beaulieu on bass, Marie-Pierre Brasset on Moog Grandmother synthesisers, Émile Boucher Cloutier on percussion, Réal Gagnon on drums, and Nicolas Gobeil on trumpet). What a pleasure to nod along to well-structured, heavy, and expressive rhythms, to be overwhelmed by the cacophonic delirium of a completely free tutti, and to hear references to Pendulum, Philippe Brach, and even Bach (a rare moment of calm here, magnificent in its contemplative dreaminess, inspired by a Passacaglia from the baroque genius). Of the three long pieces on the program, only the second seemed less structurally convincing, even if it was fun. Like a patchwork where each musician presented his/her ‘’influence’’ (in the form of a personal defining musical piece), like a suite of disconnected movements. Not much integration of the different materials together. But, like I said, many fun moments nevertheless (that is where we heard the transcendent Bach episode).
For purists, this iconoclastic juxtaposition is heresy. For authentic open-minded music lovers, it was a realistic delight, because when you truly love creative music, you are not stuck to structural principles to appreciate a concert. One can go from one extreme to another without batting an eye, because that’s pretty much how it happens in our heads (as one audience member said during the post-concert discussion).
A formula to be repeated without hesitation.
