Vincent Paulet

Dialogues (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

‘‘Dialogues’’ is dedicated to Christian Schmitt, its performer, and to Bruno Ory-Lavollée, the president of the ‘‘Festival des Forêts’’; it features a theatrical exchange between two imaginary characters. Their exchange takes place in a very narrow space, as in the two lively and virtuoso movements flanking the piece or, in turn, in a more expansive, meditative mood as in the central movement. The piece owes its unity to recurrent motifs: the minor third C sharp-A sharp ensures the transition between the second and third movements, whereas a module consisting of the successive enunciation of two seconds separated by a half-tone pervades the whole piece. Each movement allows for a variety of alternating styles so that the soloist embodies different characters without needing a transition from one to the other, since the dynamic remains that of a continuous exchange, thus giving somehow to the whole piece the character of a dialog.

Comments by Vincent Paulet and Bruno Ory-Lavollée collected by Hermine Videau (excerpt from the work’s premier concert program on July 10th, 2005)

Cinq Inventions (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

Stravinsky liked to present himself as an ‘‘inventor of music’’ rather than as a composer. In agreement with him, I believe that artistic creation is actually an invention, i.e. a process consisting of a combination of both intuition and intention at the outcome of which things are found out to fall into place. Hence each piece in my catalog could be called an ‘‘Invention’’, like the five piano pieces I wrote in 2002 and 2003, whose successive titles are: ‘‘Apesanteur’’ (Weightlessness), ‘‘Tombeau’’ (Tumb), ‘‘Sur un volcan’’ (On A Volcano), ‘‘Antienne’’ (Antiphony) and ‘‘Délire’’ (Delirium).
Despite contrasting characteristics, these five pieces are related to one another by some thematic link, whereby the final raving mood in ‘‘Délire’’ serves at once as a conclusive and recapitulative device.
They were written in 2002 and 2003 and dedicated to pianist Bertrand Chamayou, their first performer in the framework of Radio-France’s ‘‘Alla breve’’ music program.

Nuit (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

This piece’s character is drawn from scenic music called ‘‘Le complexe du pilote’’ written in 1991 for a puppet show. The musical idea of ‘‘Nuit’’ first occurred in the middle of a lullaby; later on, it was used on the occasion of a scenic readaptation under the form of an separate part called ‘‘Petit choral onirique’’ (Small Dream-like Chorus) to accompany a short shadow play sequence. So from the outset, the idea was to illustrate a nocturnal atmosphere, which is why the title, ‘‘Nuit’’ (‘‘Night’’), some years later, seemed natural to me, as I was thinking of developing the idea in a wider form.
While the piece was maturing, the vision of a slow nocturnal procession took form within me–a vision which in fact well expresses the idea of the whole piece.

‘‘Nuit’’ was premiered in Madrid in 1996 by Alain Neveux.

Ave Maris Stella (extrait) - © 2000 by Gérard Billaudot Editeur

The short piece ‘‘Verset sur Ave Maris Stella’’ (1995) was commissioned by the association ‘‘Musique Nouvelle en Liberté’’ for the inauguration of the Pascal Quoirin organ of the Saint Ferdinand-des-Ternes church in Paris. As suggested in the title, the piece is a free adaptation of the melody of this Gregorian hymn.

Laus (extrait) - © Editions Combre

Shortly before writing ‘‘Laus’’, I had had the opportunity of composing a series of (very) short musical sequences meant to accompany a documentary film about stained glass; for one of them I had devoted myself to creating a medieval polyphony dealt with in my own fashion: in spite of easily perceivable auditory references made to medieval composer Guillaume de Machault, there was more than a hint pointing to the fact that the author of this seconds-long piece belonged to our times.
When the musical association ‘‘Domaine-Musiques’’ called upon me in 1992 to write a required piece for the ‘‘International Organ Contest of Wasquehal-St-Omer’’, I started to map out the possible itinerary which the initial musical idea would take, by following the curve of its own fluctuations, likening itself to an imaginary church service (hence the title ‘‘Laus’’, i.e. praise).
Thus a piece of different dimensions (about 9’ long) slowly came into existence, in which the original polyphony became successively more complex, restless and anxious, uplifting and annihilating, lyrical and then again abundant, to finally evaporate mysteriously in a sort of transitory conclusion.

Salve Regina (extrait) (c) Editions Jobert

Drawn directly from the Gregorian antiphony bearing the same name, and from which it borrows several melodic ideas, my own ‘‘Salve Regina’’ was initially meant for a very small organ, consisting of nine stops in all for one key board. In fact, other instruments of greater size and different make are suitable.
The antiphony’s lyrics refer to the ‘‘exiles in the valley of tears’’ imploring the Virgin, their sole resort, and these are the thoughts developed (yet only briefly) in the piece.
It is a commissioned work by the State for the ‘‘Orgues en Bourgogne’’ festival dedicated to organist Pierre Méa and appears in the repertoire of many performers.

Sonatine pour violon et piano (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

Written in the summer of 2003 at the request of Jacques Raynaut, to whom it is dedicated, my sonatina for violin and piano, extremely concise, divides itself into three movements. The initial Allegro, shortest of the three, is a perpetual canon built on two melodic ideas, alternating and then superimposed. After the central Lento, made as a sort of dreamlike improvization, all of the ideas exposed in the two first movements reappear in the final Allegro, thus drawing the piece to a brilliant and euphoric end.

Sonate pour violoncelle et piano (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

In 1993, on the occasion of the re-adaptation of a puppet show called ‘‘Le complexe du pilote’’ (for which I had produced, two years before, a scenic music for flute, cello and piano), I happened to write two love duets for cello and piano.
The new version of the show was never presented to the public, which is why I came to think about composing a sonata for cello and piano in three movements, of which the first and the finale would be none other than these two love duets.
My stay at the Casa de Velázquez enabled me to make that project come true and, from March to June 1996, I wrote the second movement which, because of its importance, gives to the whole of the sonata an unexpected dimension (close to 20 minutes) when compared to the initial material.
As the work’s unity is ensured by strong thematic links, I boldly played with the idea of mixing (or rather, alternating) styles: whereas movements one and three can determinedly be qualified as ‘‘light music’’, the central movement, for its part, leans towards a slow meditation, almost mystical, out of which a dance with wild rhythms at times will emerge.
The piece was premiered in Paris (at the ‘‘Maison de la Radio’’) in September 1996 by Guy Danel and Jean-Louis Delahaut; it is dedicated to Jean-Louis Florentz, who is known to have been not only a great composer but also a cello lover.

Partita 2 (extrait) - © Editions Combre

Among baroque composers, the partita takes the form of a series of variations on a theme exposed at the beginning; this principle is respected here in so far as each of the four sections of ‘‘Partita 2’’ uses the same thematic material in a different way. The first part, ‘‘Prophétique’’, is a flute solo cadenza which introduces the three main ideas one after the other:, first, a series of eleven notes, progressively taking shape around a pivotal low C, in a mysterious and incantatory atmosphere; then a repeated rhythmical motif on D6; finally, a phrase whose lyrical expression is in contrast with the violent rhythm which precedes it.
The next three movements develop these different ideas in the form of voluble and desultory variations in ‘‘Exubérant’’ (Exuberant), in a meditative fashion in ‘‘Recueilli’’ (Rapt in Prayer) and in brilliant rythmical forms in ‘‘Dansé’’ (As In A Dance). The flute concludes the piece alone, in a vanishing breath.

Oiseaux du paradis (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

Written between 1994 and 2001 at the suggestion of clarinetist Jacques Merrer, the piece ‘‘Oiseaux du Paradis’’ can be heard in echo to Mozart’s ‘‘Kegelstatt Trio’’, to be played by a clarinet, viola and piano; but its filiation is more to be found on the side of Ravel (author of choir music ‘‘Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis’’ Three Pretty Birds of Paradise), whose famous central movement, ‘‘Concerto en sol’’, I used as a model: in both cases, the ample melody exposed by the piano in the course of the first part reappears, in the form of a variation, in the third part. Here, however, the central movement disrupts the piece’s unity by suddenly introducing upsetting figures, and develops certain motifs taken from the original melody by applying renewed rhythmical forms to them.
In poetic terms, the piece appeared to me as a dreamlike moment, during which the spirit frees itself from dull reality; that reality, out of which the chant will emerge, is present at the beginning of the piece in its grayer tones and will recur in the conclusion, thus leaving the dream unresolved, like a window still open on a wonder world whose contours everyone can imagine in their own hearts (is it a ‘‘magic garden’’ or… Paradise?).
The piece is a commissioned work by the State and was premiered at the ‘‘Nouveau Siècle’’ in Lille, on March 23rd, 2003, by the musicians of Trio Arcade, to whom the piece is dedicated.

Le grand stellaire (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

In the early stages of the creation of ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’ (Great Stellar Music), the amplified harp appeared to me as a sort of messenger whose mission it was to unveil latent emotions, obscured till now by the limited voice of the traditional harp.
As I was composing the piece, I felt the excitement of writing for a brand new instrument, liberated from its confidentiality and now shining brilliantly; I started to discover a new musical space, comparable to a sky studded with new stars which, after thousands of light-years, one lucky night decide to let us see how they radiate.
According to the book of Genesis, God created the ‘‘great luminary’’ then the ‘‘small’’ on the fourth day of the Creation; it is with reference to such poetic material that I chose to call ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’ a piece that I consider to be an invitation to travel to the heavens and which divides itself into three parts: ‘‘Débridé’’ (Unbridled), ‘‘En éveil’’ (Awake) and ‘‘Éclatant’’ (Brilliant).
Premiered in 1992 by the member musicians of Trio Controverse, to whom it is dedicated, the piece can also be played with the accompaniment of a string quartet, quintet or orchestra.

Le complexe du pilote (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

Written and directed by Philippe Rodriguez-Jorda, the puppet show ‘‘Le complexe du pilote’’ was first presented to the public in 1991 in the Epernay Theater by members of Trio Agora, to whom the piece is dedicated.
The story of the show relies on a main character called ‘‘the sleeper’’, because nothing in life is of interest to him and he spends most of the time sleeping. Other characters come up to him to offer him thrilling activites; all such attempts will fail, till one of them is about to succeed: one suggests that he commit suicide! The providential appearance of a monster saves the day. Finally the sight of a bird reveals to the sleeper his real nature: he has become a pilot and takes off.
The suite drawn from the show respects more or less its chronology; the ‘‘Marche funèbre’’ (Funeral March) comes after ‘‘La danse du monstre’’ (Dance of the Monster) and ‘‘Berceuse’’ (Lullaby) is followed by ‘‘Envol’’ (Taking Flight); the whole is held within a frame made up of two symmetrical versions of one ‘‘Générique’’.

Le grand stellaire (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

The ‘‘Concerto pour flûte, harpe, orchestre à cordes et percussion’’ is the orchestral version of the piece written in 1992 for flute, electric harp and percussion called ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’. The score is a commissioned work for harpist Martine Flaissier and flutist Henry Vaudé, founders of the Controverse ensemble, which was formed around Joël Garnier’s ‘‘blue harp’’.
In the early stages of the creation of ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’, the amplified harp appeared to me as a sort of messenger whose mission it was to unveil latent emotions, obscured till now by the limited voice of the traditional harp.
As I was composing the piece, I felt the excitement of writing for a brand new instrument, liberated from its confidentiality and now shining brilliantly; I started to discover a new musical space, comparable to a sky studded with new stars which, after thousands of light-years, one lucky night decide to let us see how they radiate.
According to the book of Genesis, God created the ‘‘great luminary’’ then the ‘‘small’’ on the fourth day of the Creation; it is with reference to such poetic material that I chose to call ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’ a piece that I consider to be an invitation to travel to the heavens and which divides itself into three parts: ‘‘Débridé’’ (Unbridled), ‘‘En éveil’’ (Awake) and ‘‘Éclatant’’ (Brilliant).
In 1994 already, I had worked at developing the harmonic dimension of the piece by adding a string quartet to it; as a result of this continuing preoccupation, I later on extended these parts to a full string orchestra. However, I believe that each version keeps a musical pertinence of its own.

Le grand stellaire (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

In the early stages of the creation of ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’, the amplified harp appeared to me as a sort of messenger whose mission it was to unveil latent emotions, obscured till now by the limited voice of the traditional harp.
As I was composing the piece, I felt the excitement of writing for a brand new instrument, liberated from its confidentiality and now shining brilliantly; I started to discover a new musical space, comparable to a sky studded with new stars which, after thousands of light-years, one lucky night decide to let us see how they radiate.
According to the book of Genesis, God created the ‘‘great luminary’’ then the ‘‘small’’ on the fourth day of the Creation; it is with reference to such poetic material that I chose to call ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’ a piece that I consider to be an invitation to travel to the heavens and which divides itself into three parts: ‘‘Débridé’’ (Unbridled), ‘‘En éveil’’ (Awake) and ‘‘Éclatant’’ (Brilliant).
‘‘Le grand stellaire’’ was first known as a chamber music trio, commissioned by the dedicatees of the work, namely harpist Martine Flaissier and flutist Henry Vaudé, founders of the Controverse ensemble.
In 1994 already, I had worked at developing the harmonic dimension of the piece by adding a string quartet to it; as a result of this continuing preoccupation, I later on extended these parts to a full string orchestra, thus giving birth to a newer version in 2003, premiered by Thomas Prévost (flûte), Martine Flaissier, Francis Petit (percussion) and the Radio-France Philharmonic Orchestra (Kirill Karabits, cond), for the 2004 ‘‘Présences’’ festival. However, I believe that each version retains a musical pertinence of its own.

In memoriam Manuel de Falla (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

Written between December 1995 and February 1996, ‘‘In memoriam Manuel de Falla’’, for piano and five instruments, was premiered in Madrid on April 17th, 1996 by pianist Ulrike Engels and the soloists of the Grenada orchestra, conducted by the work’s dedicatee Yvan Nommick.
The idea of this chamber concerto comes from Yvan Nommick himself, then a resident of the Casa de Velázquez as a musicologist, who suggested Vincent Paulet that he write a piece to be played as a sequel to de Falla’s ‘‘Concerto’’ for harpsichord.
In the premier concert program (organized for the fiftieth anniversary of Manuel de Falla’s death), Yvan Nommick made the following comments:

The score divides itself into five movements: introduction and ‘‘Letanía’’ (Litany), ‘‘Danza’’ (Dance), ‘‘Noche’’ (Night), ‘‘Danza’’, ‘‘Adiós’’ (Farewell). Its formal structure, obviously symmetrical, corresponds to the sequence A-B-C-B-D, whereas a very simple melodic and harmonic material, exposed in the first measures and developed throughout the piece thanks to a well-mastered variation technique, ensures its overall unity. The instruments are the same as in de Falla’s ‘‘Concerto’’, except that the piano replaces the harpsichord and the oboe also plays the English horn part.
‘‘In memoriam Manuel de Falla’’ is, according to the composer, ‘‘a great meditative piece, out of which two fast-paced dances emerge.’’ The presence of de Falla is conjured up by the melismatic style of the different themes or motifs, and the construction of certain chords based on superimposed fifths; it reveals itself fully in the last movement (‘‘Adiós’’) with the quotation of the initial chord in the first passage of ‘‘El amor brujo’’ (‘‘A Love Bewitched’’) titled ‘‘Medianoche’’ (‘‘Midnight’’). The repetition of this chord, interrupted by fragments from the previous movements creates an atmosphere of far-away bells ringing which progressively soothes the listener into a dreamy state of timelessness. Two short chords, in the lower range of the piano, lead the piece to its conclusion.

(from Vincent Paulet’s French translation of the Spanish version)

Noces de lumière (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

Once I had drafted the first pages of the score, it appeared to me that the music that was progressively revealing itself could, by analogy, be likened to a succession of luminous states; so I started to imagine the metamorphoses of a landscape (also imaginary) taking place as the light cast on it varies throughout the day; then I thought of this poetic approach as an homage to the Earth and the Sun, uniting with one another–hence the work’s title.
Five movements or ‘‘solar poems’’ (that was the initial idea for the title) come one after the other with the following tempo indications: moderato, presto, moderato, presto, largo and (without transition) presto. As an afterthought, the pale light, which progressively intensifies in the course of the first piece, reminds me of daybreak and the last one the declining light of dusk; in the same logic, the relative gravity, the steel-like brightness of the central movement, somewhat static, could in turn be a reminder of the sometimes heavy noon light, whereas the intermediary movements for their part seem to be avatars of the same incandescent dance. The language used remains however exclusively musical in nature, and the orchestral version indeed more often relies on a set of soloists than a sound mass.
‘‘Noces de lumière’’ was written between fall 2004 and spring 2006; they are a commissioned work for ‘‘Fondation d’Entreprise-Groupe Banque Populaire’’. The piece is jointly dedicated to Laurent Petitgirard who, as artistic advisor to the Foundation, is the initiator of the work, and to John Nelson who, as conductor of the ‘‘Ensemble Orchestral de Paris’’, conducted the premiere concert at the ‘‘Théâtre des Champs-Élysées’’.

Leggero (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

As the piece’s title suggests, ‘‘Leggero’’ is light music. Most of the discourse is sustained by the wind instruments, whereas the strings play only an accompaniment, though they might at times move to the fore. Written in spring 2003, this short score is dedicated to the musicians of the ‘‘Ensemble Orchestral de Paris’’ and their conductor, John Nelson.

L’Office des adieux (extrait) - © Editions Leduc

‘‘L’Office des adieux’’ (Ceremony of Goodbyes) belongs to the same family of scores which, from ‘‘Ballade des pendus’’ to ‘‘Psaume 129 (de profundis)’’, via ‘‘Chants d’exil’’, take a similar poetic route: in response to a moaning stemming from the depths of either the world of the dead or of a disenchanted life, a world of light rises, the advent of which annihilates the limits of this terrestrial life.
Though the work stands as a whole, in fact it consists of what one would call in dramatical terms two ‘‘acts’’. As one listens to the three successive processions throughout the first act, one can perceive the constituent elements of a funeral ceremony: lamentations (contained or unbridled), ritual marches, psalmodies in response, alternated or mixed.
When listening to the second act, processional in nature too, one can think of Hieronymus Bosch’s ‘‘Ascension to Paradise’’, which guided my creative work.
The music steeps itself little by little in the melody of the Gregorian chant ‘‘In paradisum’’ which, ten years before, I had symbolically quoted at the end of ‘‘Ballade des pendus’’ (an aspect which emphasizes the relation between the two opuses).
‘‘L’Office des adieux’’ is a commissioned work for the State, premiered in 1999 by the Lille National Orchestra, conducted by Stéphane Cardon, to whom the piece is dedicated.

Processions (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

As I was composing this piece for two pianos and percussion, I was haunted by the vision of a slow and somber cortege which, in its interminable procession, lent itself to hallucinatory delirium. Did it come from the memory that I had of the Semana Santa in Seville? Still, the work’s formal structure (one movement all of a piece, consisting of a thematic exposition followed by an ample development) is reminiscent of two former pieces (“Musique pour douze instruments” – Music for Twelve Instruments and “Nuit” – Night, for piano), both written in Spain.
Commissioned by the Conservatory of Lille where it was premiered in 2004, “Processions” was requested by and is dedicated to the Conservatory’s director and organist Philippe Lefebvre, as well as to the four musicians who premiered: Marc Lys and Jean-Michel Dayez, pianos, Béatrice Faucomprez and Sébastien Lécluse, percussion.

Vincent Paulet

2e Quatuor à cordes (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

It is customary in etudes to deal with each technical particularity separately. This is the principle that I applied to my second quartet, on the suggestion of the musicians of the Ravel Quartet, who commissioned the work and to whom it is dedicated.
The attention of the four performers is directed successively toward tempo changes (in "Tempi"), pizzicati ("Pizzicato"), micro-intervals ("Intervalles"), harmonic sounds ("Fragment onirique"), bowing techniques ("Arco"), the latter etude being followed by a recapitulative finale ("Epilogue"). . In fact, just as in Schumann’s "Symphonic Etudes", the first page of this quartet piece consists of a theme of which the following movements are a variation.
The piece was written in Spain in autumn 1994, and premiered the year afterwards by the Ravel Quartet.

Vincent Paulet

Chants d’exil (extrait)

Begun in 1989, this first string quartet piece is dedicated to the musicians of the Ravel Quartet, who premiered it in 1994 on the occasion of an artists’ residence at the Théâtre de la Renaissance in Oullins. The idea underpinning the work is a mirroring of the here below and the hereafter, of the abyss – realm of the incomplete – and the absolute, the exile and paradise lost.
Whereas an unrestrained disquiet inhabits the first three movements (“Abîmes” – the Abysses –, “Exil” – Exile – and “Refrains”) under different forms, the fourth and last part (“Illumination”) brings salvation: it is the revelation, first contemplative then jubilatory, of an unsuspected “promised land”. While writing the transition which leads upwards from “Refrains” to “Illumination”, I couldn’t but think of Hieronymus Bosch’s “Ascension to Celestial Paradise”, where one can see weightless silhouettes hovering through the tunnel which takes them from a still dark world to the world of light.

Vincent Paulet

Aeolian Voices (extrait) - © 1998 by Gérard Billaudot Editeur

Written in 1990 (a year marked in France by wind storms), “Aeolian Voices” was commissioned by the Versailles saxophone quartet, to whom it is dedicated. The piece is short, with a frequently agitated tempo (in fact, a sort of scherzo). The title refers to Aeolus, god controller of the winds in Greco-Latin mythology; but instead of seeking to illustrate a famous scene in the “Odysseus”, where Ulysses’ companions let the winds out of Aeolus’ goatskin flask only to trigger a storm, the listener might as well let himself drift on the imaginary winds conveyed by the reverberations of the quartet, from the most violent gust of wind to the more subtle tremors of the central lull.

Vincent Paulet

Nocturne (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

This piece is a transcription of the central movement of ‘‘Trois Inventions pour bande de hautbois’’ (Three Inventions for Oboe Band–written in 1999 and 2000), which I composed for oboist Jean-Pierre Arnaud. Along with the musicians of the Carpe Diem ensemble, he premiered that version of the piece in 2004 at Côte Saint-André, on the occasion of the Berlioz Festival.

Trois inventions (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

Written in the winter of 1999-2000, these three short pieces are a commissioned work for the Conservatory of Lille and are dedicated to oboist Réginald Lafont, their true initiator. Organized in a moderate/ slow/ lively sequence, these three ‘‘inventions’’ have no thematic relationship with one another, a unique feature in the works of their author.

Musique de fête (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

‘‘Musique de fête’’ was written in 1999 for brass quintet ‘‘Vitrail’’, to whom the piece is dedicated. Designed in the style of the baroque suite, which exposed a series of airs and dances with no other aim but to entertain, this piece is divided in six successive movements: ‘‘Ouverture’’, ‘‘Aria’’, ‘‘Swing’’, ‘‘Apartés’’, ‘‘Procession’’ and ‘‘Toccata’’. The two themes freely exposed in ‘‘Ouverture’’ will alternatively take on a lyrical shape (as in ‘‘Aria’’ and ‘‘Apartés’’) or rhythmical (as in ‘‘Swing’’ and (‘‘Toccata’’). As for the piece’s festive spirit, which expresses itself in many ways, it at times evokes very typically joyful, celebratory musics, and at other times it manifests itself in a more ritual manner, as in the procession which introduces the final ‘‘Toccata’’–but isn’t any fête (especially that of a musical kind, called ‘‘a concert’’) ritualistic by definition?

Le grand stellaire (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

In the early stages of the creation of ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’, the amplified harp appeared to me as a sort of messenger whose mission it was to unveil latent emotions, obscured till now by the limited voice of the traditional harp.
As I was composing the piece, I felt the excitement of writing for a brand new instrument, liberated from its confidentiality and now shining brilliantly; I started to discover a new musical space, comparable to a sky studded with new stars which, after thousands of light-years, one lucky night decide to let us see how they radiate.
According to the book of Genesis, God created the ‘‘great luminary’’ then the ‘‘small’’ on the fourth day of the Creation; it is with reference to such poetic material that I chose to call ‘‘Le grand stellaire’’ a piece that I consider to be an invitation to travel to the heavens and which divides itself into three parts: ‘‘Débridé’’ (Unbridled), ‘‘En éveil’’ (Awaken) and ‘‘Éclatant’’ (Brilliant).
Premiered in 1992 in its original version (a trio) by the member musicians of Trio Controverse, to whom it is dedicated, the piece was later completed by a more substantial instrumentation that included the string parts and which was first played in 1995 at the ‘‘Bel Image’’ in Valence by the same musicians and the Ravel quartet, conducted by Mark Foster.

Suspiros (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

While I was in Spain as a guest of the Casa de Velázquez, I discovered ‘‘Cancionero espiritual’’ (from Valladolid). From this anonymous collection of mystical poems published in 1549, I extracted this beautiful poem whose three first rhymes gave me the idea for the title of ‘‘Suspiros’’; these three liminary rhymes sum up the content of the whole poem: the theme of the absence of God and the grief that results from it suggested to the poet a fiery flow of powerful images along the next ten stanzas, haunted by a visionary exaltation. The piece divides itself into five uninterrupted sections: Si con extrema tristura, Si en esta cárcel, ¿ Cómo no oyes ?, Si me trae tan congojoso and ¡ Ay de mí !
A commissioned work for the association ‘‘Musique Nouvelle en Liberté’’, ‘‘Suspiros’’ is dedicated to Joël Suhubiette and the choir ‘‘Les Éléments’’, who premiered it in Auch in 2004.

Messe (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

This mass is a commissioned work for the ‘‘Secteur Pastoral’’ in Étampes, where it was premiered in 2001 for the Ascension Mass; it is mainly meant for church service use (though many artists propose a convincing concert version of it), and consists of organ pieces and two-voice motets.
The antique aspect of certain passages in the score can be explained by the fact that the organ for which it was written dates back to the end of the 16th century, and its mesotonic temperament naturally led me to use such a style, not only harmonically, of course, but also melodically; at the beginning of the piece, for example, the reference to ancient masters such as Guillaume de Machault, Sweelinck Frescobaldi or the Spanish organists (though from different eras) is flagrant. However, I wrote the piece in such a way that it practically would allow complete freedom in the choice of instruments.
This mass is dedicated to Father Frédéric Gatineau, priest of the parish of Étampes, who initiated the work, as well as to the three musicians who premiered it: organist Xavier Eustache, soprano Nadia Jauneau-Cury and baritone Laurent Bajou.

Psaume 129 (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

The fact that the text of Psalm 129 (better known as ‘‘De produndis’’) is used by the catholic liturgy on the occasion of funerals tends to lessen its progression from the angst of darkness to perfect serenity; this is the very progression I wanted to set forward; in the first measures of the piece, a solo voice (followed by a second one) will come to sing ‘‘alleluia’’: this is the bright ‘‘Alleluia de profundis’’, an amazing Gregorian melody which I couldn’t help but quote (or, rather, explore again).
The psalm divides itself into three sections: a deep liminary lament (De profúndis), a crescendo expressing the sinner’s anguish in the face of divine Justice (Si iniquitátes), and whose outcome is a dreaded shriek (quis sustinébit ?), then finally an appeased psalmody (Sperávit ánima mea, ‘‘like a lullaby’’, as the score indicates).
A commissioned work of the Conservatory (Conservatoire National de Région) of Lille for its chamber choir dedicated to Claire Marchand, ‘‘Psaume 129’’ was written in 1997 and premiered two years later and then came into the repertoire of chamber choir ‘‘Les Éléments’’ who, under the conducting of Joël Suhubiette, performed it on numerous occasions, including a recording praised by the musical press; it since has been played by other ensembles, among which are the BBC Singers.

La Ballade des Pendus (extrait) - © Editions Jobert

When reading ‘‘Epitaph of Villon, in the form of a ballade’’, one is always struck, I think, by the vision (historic or legendary) of the poet who, emprisoned in his gaol, recognizes that he was only fairly condemned by justice, and implores that we, his fellow brothers, pray for his forgiveness. Villon does not apply this balance between realism and hope to himself only: by surpassing the limits of his own destiny, he addresses a message of Christian humanism to all his ‘‘human brothers’’.
As I was putting ‘‘Ballade des pendus’’ (Ballade of the Hanged Men) into music, I didn’t look for anything but let the musicality of François Villon’s text come out at once in all its sobriety and power of expression. My first task was indeed to write the vocal part only. I felt strongly about underlining the poem’s structure (three stanzas and an envoy) by inserting two purely instrumental commentaries, the one following the first strophe, the other in continuation of the second. The third stanza, however, erupts in the piece like a scherzo in the middle of a symphony, because it is a dance, in the spirit of medieval macabre dances. As for the final envoy, it is nothing but a prayer, since Villon addresses it to ‘‘Prince Jesus’’ for His mercy; the five last and very high-pitched notes of the first violon part are a quotation of the Gregorian antiphon, ‘‘In paradisum’’…
Written in 1988, ‘‘Ballade des pendus’’ was a commissioned work for the Reims-based company Prats & Bonany on a proposition by clarinettist Michel Bienaimé (to whom the piece is dedicated) who, along with Annie Tasset, soprano from the string quartet Quatuor Parisii and Jacques Moreau, piano, premiered it for the Reims Festival. The same musicians, under the conductorship of François Boulanger, made its premier recording soon afterwards.