Stripping music, or any art form for that matter, down
to its bare essentials is not the most common process
encountered these days. It is however the route chosen
by Sylvain Chauveau for this mini album. Inspired by
the work of the late French cinematographer Robert Bresson,
and in particular by a handful of principles enounced
in his Notes On Cinematography, the music on
Un Autre Décembre relies as much on
silence as on scarce melodies.
Before focusing on his own music, Sylvain Chauveau spent
several years singing and playing guitar in rock bands
in France. A self-confessed autodidact who claims not
even knowing the notes he plays, Chauveau is also a
member of Micro:Mega with Frederic Luneau, and Arca,
with Joan Cambon. His two solo efforts, Le Livre
Noire Du Capitalisme (2000) and Nocturne Impalpable
(2001), progressively brought this young musician from
Toulouse to the attention of the more discerning, giving
him the chance to compose the music for Belgian director
Thomas de Thiers’s Des Plumes Dans La Tête
(Feathers In The Head), a film due out later on this
year. If comparisons have been made with Yann Tiersen,
Chauveau’s music is far more abstract and fragile.
Un Autre Décembre, Chauveau’s
first release outside of his native country, draws its
title from Jacques Brel’s Jaurès,
in which he describes life in mining towns in the North
of France at the beginning of last century as ‘the
twelve months were called December’, as Chauveau
reflects on the grey-ness of modern life. Originally
recorded with a string section, this collection of twelve
short compositions, stretching over just twenty-three
and a half minutes has been stripped of its unnecessary
elements down to minimal piano pieces, only underlined
by quiet glitches from time to time. With influences
ranging from early 20th century chamber music (Claude
Debussy, Erik Satie) to musique concrete and electro-acoustic,
pioneered in the 1950’s by the likes of Pierre
Henry or Pierre Schaeffer, and post-punk ethic, Chauveau
resists the temptation of overloading his creations
with gimmicks. The fruit of a year’s work at shaping
this intricate series of Spartan atmospheric structures,
this mini album exposes the rough beauty of piano music.
If, on his previous solo recordings, the man was accumulating
vocal samples and noises to support his compositions,
here he reveals the most intimate and delicate layer
of musical persona.
Complex and difficult, Un Autre Décembre
slowly reveals itself, becoming more compelling with
each listen. The sonorities are applied like touches
of colours to form an impressionist picture of melancholy
and abstraction, devoid of any interaction with the
real world.
4.7/5
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