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Langues et lueurs Jean-Paul Delore, Louis Sclavis, Sébastien Boisseau

reference number : J2093
release date : 01/03/2024
Photos : Gauche © Rémi Angeli, Droit © Aït Belkacem, design © Anima Productions. En bas © Annabelle Tiaffay

about this album

Guy Debord advocated drifting in order to reconsider the way we live in a space. Director, author and actor Jean-Paul Delore has embarked on a similar drift. In this recital, he presents texts by French and African authors chosen at random from his repeated trips to Africa.
Since the phenomenal success of Carnet de routes in 1995, by the trio Sclavis-Romano-Texier, we know what Louis Sclavis shares with the African continent. Joined in this common taste for writing and the elsewhere from Sébastien Boisseau - who has played with the cream of the jazz world (Humair, Kühn, Solal, Metheny, Portal, etc.) - the three artists "draw a sonic landscape where languor and anger, contemplation and disdain alternate". This powerful show, at the frontier of genres, is both escapist and indignant, thanks to the incredible presence of Jean-Paul Delore and the devastating play by two giants of their instrument.

Längues et lueurs kicks exoticism's ass
, nothing known of the lands of Africa poured out by the three swordsmen of this recital, where texts and music leap over every rut in the track. The two registers support each other and move in dances of rage, love and urgency. No disturbed cut, here the entrechat gives way to the uppercut. LOUIS SCLAVIS (clarinet, harmonica) and SÉBASTIEN BOISSEAU (double bass) marvelously handle the musical side of the project. JEAN-PAUL DELORE plasters the walls with jets of textual lime, raw fuel oil and incandescent formulas. Among the embers caught in the eye: certain death "within an arterial flow", "the little insolence" of imperious fucking to "rise above cathedrals" and this unstoppable, lapidary defeat: "this world is dead, including France." The Spirit of Enlightenment is extinguished, thank you oil and gas companies.

But the street is still alive, and it's a good thing we called this highly incendiary project a recital. There's no posing for readings or literary concert cerebrations here. It's all organic, pulled together by the pinpricks of dissection. The Africa in question, sub-equatorial, violent and sensual to the point of disturbance, is delivered open-hearted and double-hearted.

Jean-Paul Delore is a taster of text, humble and wild. Boss of Le Lézard Dramatique, he is nevertheless a hot-blooded man, his blood warmed by the African sun, a territory he knows and loves from the heart. His collaborations with Congolese political exile Dieudonné Niangouna are proof enough. With the hawkish mannerism of a Brel adieusant at the Olympia in 1966, he delivers a fervent Lettre à Arthur expectorated by Sony Labou Tansi. His words cast a spell and blend perfectly in the friendly battle they wage with the music. The music keeps a sharp, loving eye on Africa, leaving it where everyone wants it. We even hear a slightly weary saltarelle, no doubt drawn from Sclavis's memories of Napoli's Walls. Perfect detours.