Biography

Trained as a philosopher (UCL, Belgium), a cartoonist and animator of meaning, and above all an artist, I have a ‘wild’ eye for our thinkers and a keen ear for the orients of thought.

Early, I populate my imagination with sounds, voices, structures, flows; from pygmy songs to the reefs of contemporary music (Cage, Feldman, Scelci, …), through the vitality of rock, the harmonies of jazz, Indian ragas, Mozart, Monteverdi …, techno clashes, the jerks of electro and the amplitude of ambient: as long as there is a universe, definition, dimension.

Initiated to the notion of “intensity passer” by Alain Veinstein, I open myself to multidisciplinary work: poetry, literature, cinema, music. For me, sound and silence are inseparable. Guitarist and flutist, I compose long improvisations where body, presence and inspiration make tri-unity.

In 2005, I started to develop what will become my electronic violin making. Since 2008, I have been a regular musical contributor to “Corps en Scène” with Jean Mastin. I work on improvisation and sound spatialization with the actors, in rehearsal, and on stage, in a transdisciplinary context. Presence of an “actor sound body” interacting with the actors’ “body on stage”. 28 creations to date. Also in 2008, I founded a variable collective of “timeless” music: Anantakara.

Music is inseparable from time. It flows, stretches in time. Whether we like it or not, it is part of an unfolding – itself inherent to all propagation. It uses modes to inhabit this space of time, to accomplish it in a certain way, and to transport us into a universe that generates a unique sensation of temporality.

What happens when the “narrative” that is melody and structure is suspended? That there is no longer that primary seating that draws the attention to a-somewhat-defined part. That another principle comes to organize time? That there is nothing more to follow? And that it is then precisely either a question of sharpening vigilance, of stirring the presence of oneself?

What happens to the very act of composing? How to sign a kind of “black hole” in temporality and “concentrate-extend” a space whose gravitation, the intensity of weight, will pulse on our perceptive vaults?

What happens to the one who listens? Does he become a participant? Co-creator as he is no longer a spectator of anything, no longer attends anything, but co-creates one here and now, a fortiori unheard of in his personal history. Will he be brought to some “other part” of himself?

I’m exploring what we now call the sonic dimension. A concept that combines sound and music. A music that revolves around “sound” and no longer around “sonority” as our classical and modern legacies have taught us. It is a music that opens up to the dimension of the cosmos, and therefore to spatialization: the top, the bottom, the extent, the orientations, the cycles, the shifts…

My sonic practice is a “work in progress”, an introduction to each other. It invites to be present. In the presence of this place which has no place, which is nowhere in the whole. The investment of a presence that invites to the meaning, to the full and to the empty, of the quivering wonder.

The performance becomes an act made of gestures and breaths, of amplitudes and a-partitions, of traces to be followed and subtracted, of suspensions and silences, of intensities and unfathomable…

Paul Klee – that great painter – wrote that every artist was looking for “the secret key to everything”. And that it is found in chaos, in “that Nothing which is opposable to nothing”. This “in work” is similar to “the fixing of a point in the chaos” which Klee asserts is “the cosmogenetic moment” prior to all creation.