We’re all familiar with singer-songwriter Viviane Audet, who appeared in 2006 with her debut album Le long jeu. She returned in 2014 with her pianistic folk on Le couloir des ouragans, directed by Philippe Brault and deeply intimate, and more recently, with Les nuits avancent comme des camions blindés sur les filles en 2023, for quite some time now. But those in the know know that she also composes instrumental pieces in parallel, as on her Piano EP in 2019, her album Les filles montagnes inspired by the Polytechnique tragedy, or for the visual arts, penning the music for the films Camion and Gurov & Anna.
Her most recent album, co-produced by Ghislain-Luc Lavigne and accompanied by her long-time artistic director, Robin-Joël Cool, with whom she also shares the stage in the group Mentana, is in this vein. A pianistic tale entitled Le piano et le torrent, Viviane takes us along with her, through the landscapes, places and people that shaped her Gaspesian childhood.
The journey begins with Le jour qui craque, a lullaby with a simple ritornello filled with light, which immediately sets the soft, nostalgic tone of the opus. “La nuit l’été le p’tit bois,” “Dolo” and “Et si un jour tu reviens les oiseaux te feront un passage” join her a little further down the road. Some of the pieces, such as “Les galeries,” “Balle au mur” and “Le tendre,” are reminiscent of European neo-classical composers such as Yann Tiersen, while others, such as Le Goéland, my favourite of the album, “Le Torrent” and “Maria,” have hints of composers like Chopin and Debussy.
“Some Squall” stands out for its darker hue, with dramatic staccatos, a hue that brings a unique tension to the album, which nonetheless resolves itself in gentleness.” Barlicoco” has a touch reminiscent of Russian composers, “Rue des Loriots” surprises with a melodic progression that veers into dissonance at times, an interesting search verging on the atonal, and “Plus le silence et là plus je t’entends” opens up the possibilities, like a dialogue where the melody answers itself.
An album full of tenderness, nostalgia, beauty and light, which I had the good fortune, by the most wonderful of coincidences, to listen to in my sunny garden. It really was the perfect soundtrack for enjoying the calm of the first rays on a contemplative day, and even if our heads aren’t filled with Viviane’s memories of “Maria,” the album shows us the way to the ones that belong to us. I loved it and warmly recommend it.
