Jozef Van Wissem's appearances in Paris, though not that rare, are always an event. The famous lutenist returned to the Paris region less than a year after plunging La Cigale into darkness alongside his partner Jim Jarmusch. Without Jarmusch, there was no need for such a large venue, so we headed to Mains d'Œuvres for an evening of minimalist darkness.
BLEU REINE
That being said, before we could really sulk in the darkness, we could purge out last rays of sunshine still corrupting our souls in the company of Bleu Reine. We know her well, we know how skilfully she can defuse tension with a touch of humour. Before starting her set, she warns us: ‘I'm very, very intimidated, my brain is in survival mode, it's like really needing to pee.’ We've seen her perform solo and accompanied by a whole band. Tonight she's (almost) alone. She pulls on a cable at the back of the stage with haste, it flips something over, no big deal, it's time to start. A little nervousness, a little complicity, as usual Bleu Reine wins over the audience before she even starts.
Each time, it feels like the musician is trying new things, changing and evolving, playing with her music, letting it live on stage. With her band, her gentle folk poetry took on a new weight. Here, we are surprised to discover new rough edges in songs that are several years old. As is tradition, Léa Jacta Est joins her on the theremin for a few otherworldly tracks. The highlight of the concert comes after Belle qui Tiens ma Vie and the following disclaimer: ‘We watched The Blair Witch Project together a few days ago and you might hear it... You don't know the next track, and neither do we, because it's an improvisation.’ We then dive into a dark and hypnotic, ultra-cool noise/mystical ritual incantation. Yeah, witches are great, occult stuff is great, darkness is great!
Bleu Reine seems to have taken on a darker tone. Not that we're complaining. She asks the audience: ‘Would you prefer a dreamy song or a vengeful song?’ Obviously, we vote for vengeance, which we are promised will be ‘worthy of a Jason Bourne theme’. Whether with this new track, and its aggressive electro/industrial touches, or with her older songs (Retournée, played at the end of the set, is haunted by surprising and enjoyable drone/noise touches), Bleu Reine surprised us with her desire to explore new directions, break the rules and make noise around her bittersweet songs. The applause is warm. Modest, she accuses us: ‘You are so polite. Thank you for your politeness.’ And thank you to Bleu Reine for the lovely oddities.
JOZEF VAN WISSEM
A cloud of smoke announces the arrival of the boss, as if he's emerging from his vault. Wearing a large black hat, a crucifix around his neck and holding his iconic lute, he emerges from the shadows, sits down in the middle of the stage and begins to play without further ado. At the front of the audience, some people also sit on the floor to listen better... If more people had taken up this idea, everyone might have been able to see the stage, even from the back, where some clever people found chairs to stand on!
Jozef Van Wissem pinches the strings of his lute. We are quickly treated to a piece from his soundtrack for the 1922 film Nosferatu: it's an evening for vampires. Then come tracks from his superb album The Night Dwells in the Day. He adapts and mixes pieces that flow into one another with the same solemn air, the same respect for an audience that is aware of witnessing something akin to a ritual. The listening experience is religious. The intensity builds when the percussion of The Devil is a Fair Angel and the Serpent a Subtle Beast begins to hammer away at the atmosphere. A few heads sway to the rhythm, notably that of Van Wissem... who must be careful not to knock off his ever-present hat while headbanging too much! This ceremonial minimalism gives rise to a theatricality, a hypnotic poetry. Rarely does his deep voice ring out, slightly quavering, tinged with a gothic reverberation, as he chants a few incantations on The Day is Coming and Love Destroys Us.
Time flies by at lightning speed: if you had glanced at the notebook at his feet, you would have thought that Jozef Van Wissem was going to play for hours. No, it's just that the song titles are the length of a short paragraph. After about an hour, he gets up and walks to the back of the stage before immediately returning: we've seen artists who make the pre-encore suspense last longer! Phones are raised as the music from the cult classic Only Lovers Left Alive, to which he probably owes much of his popularity, begins to play. Then he gets up, greets us (for real this time) and simply walks away. We didn't notice the time passing; this funny guy has a very special power of fascination that can suspend time and capture our full attention with music that, on the surface, might seem disarmingly simple. Very classy.
