I’m completely at a loss with the new record by Jean-Luc Guionnet, the French improviser and composer whose work I admire so much. The CD (APOSIOPÈSE APO 16) presents two versions of same piece, I assume – Tournures Cessent, an electro-acoustic composition, followed by Tournures Cessent Orchestrales, a chamber piece which is performed by the Onceim ensemble.
The creator has written a lengthy note about his notions and intentions printed in the booklet here, but it’s beyond my comprehension. The first page alone alludes to “a false diary of the year 2015”, after which I’m pretty much lost. There’s a footnote where he explains what a “boli” is (it’s a Mali fetish statue) and why it’s so important to the music. He refers to narrative and rationality, but I get the idea he’s not in favour of either of them, and would much rather have no stories and an irrational music score. He tells us about objects, things, dust and substances, speaking as if everything were a sign of equal value. And then he tells us that Tournures Cessent is none of these things. No wonder I’m ready to give up!
Admittedly, I’m drawn to the suggestion that he’s “building a form of sound by gambling with memories”, which he evokes with a very clear image of playing roulette, but I’m not yet completely sure what it means. I’ve worked so hard to immerse myself in previous works by Guionnet, admiring the large-scale site-specific projects and the unexpected deployment of musicians in a tableau that outfoxes Stockhausen, even, so it frustrates me that I can’t yet apply my decaying brain-matter to these “Ceasing Turns”. However, the music is great. The electro-acoustic version puts me in mind of the work of Luc Ferrari, by which I mean the low-key speaking voices and the barely-audible events which are more like a lurking presence than an actual discernible sound on the tape. But Jean-Luc brings his own pastries to the boulangier. The shopping list of ingredients which he provides includes voices, but also dancing steps, remixes and recordings of earlier pieces, someone playing a viola, “pigeons trampling” near where he lives…and something called a “roaring parking”. For 29:55 mins we’re invited to explore this mysterious zone, which to me appears more metaphysical than anything rooted in the real world; perhaps the composer’s surprising combinations are working better than we first thought.
It was commissioned by INA GRM, the French “mafia” who protect the sacred legacy of Pierre Schaeffer like the Swiss Guard protect the Vatican, and it first surfaced in 2016 as part of something called Présences Électronique. Considering this piece includes “some alto sax somewhere very far”, I suppose that Guionnet is doing everything he can to emulate the effects of human memory, and the way that such memories can decay and fade away. Soon all our memories will become these very-far alto saxophones. So far his bold “gamble” (see above, roulette wheel and green baize) is paying off. For Tournures Cessent Orchestrales, we get a smashing performance from the chamber ensemble OnceIm, relaly throwing themselves into the task. This is the Orchestra National de Créations, Expérimentations and Improvisation Musical, led and conducted by its founder Frédéric Blondy, and we have heard them a few times in the past (e.g. on compositions by Bertrand Denzler); individual musicians from it, composers in their own right, have also surfaced here, and at least one or two names in the list are also skilled improvisers. Here it’s a mostly acoustic array of woodwinds, strings, piano, and percussion, but there’s also electronics and tapes and something called “concatenative synthesis” that should satisfy your thirst for the avant-strain of abstract noise. They play with incredible restraint, yet also great conviction, as they grapple with the abstruse composerly ideas. Denzler, who is also present on this 2021 recording when they were joined by Olivier Lamarche and his Motus, supplies spoken word elements, which are blended with the continuous eerie music; the voice is about the only component which I can connect with the preceding electro-acoustic version, and this orchestral piece might as well be something completely different to it.
If we’re still dealing with the theme of “memory” now, it’s advanced to the point where there seem to be forces working abroad to erase our collective memory, obscure certain parts of it, and replace it with anxiety, doubt, and fear. Tremendous piece of work for sure, but my wild guesses above are just that – guesses. One day I hope to move on to page two of the booklet and see what clues I can derive from it. From 20 December 2024.