#jean-philippe rameau

[caviarsonoro]

Natacha Kudritskaya: L'Entretien des Muses (Rameau: Suite en ré & Suite en la).

"El mundo nos rompe a todos, y luego

algunos se hacen más fuertes en las partes rotas.”

Ernest Hemingway.

[derring-do]

Castor et Pollux (Opéra National de Paris, 2025)

[cosmonautroger]

Grigory Sokolov, Les Cyclopes, Jean-Philippe Rameau

[musicwithoutborders]

Jean-Philippe Rameau /Trevor Pinnock, Suite in E Minor (1724) : VIII. La Villageoise I Complete Works for Harpsichord, 1988

[sgiandubh]

Countdown to Landcon/Jour -7: Nursery rhymes? Not exactly

With one week to go until the Landcon, I am reminiscing my long and deep rapport with that town and with France, in general, as I often do: through sounds. Music is everywhere and one's choices are always deeply personal, reflecting beloved people and particular moments in time.

The first song I ever sang by myself was taught by my grandfather. As for millions of people, it had to be this one:

It is very easy to learn and it basically tells the story of Friar James (Frère Jacques), who is supposed to go and ring the monastery's bells for what is called the matins, or morning prayer, but instead is sleeping on the job. I totally understand the poor friar and you would, too, since according to the Benedictine rule matins started at 2 a.m and lasted until dawn.

Little did we know, my grandfather and I, who composed it in earnest:

Whether this is an earlier adaptation of an Italian canzona or of a Hungarian folk tune (doubtful) does not really matter. Frère Jacques was included in Jean-Philippe Rameau's Treatise on Harmony, published in 1722. After being the protégé of several bankers and financiers, Rameau was appointed, in 1745, Musicien du Cabinet du Roy/King's Cabinet Musician at Versailles, following the enormous success of his opera, Platée. Which is really, really boring to listen to and virtually forgotten, which is - for once - perhaps not a bad thing.

Thus, millions of unsuspecting people all around the world begin their own musical journey with an ironic Baroque tune. I have never looked back, for Baroque is still my greatest love. And I consider this one of those kismet moments, which real meaning always reveals itself later and always completely at random.

But the nearest and dearest is the first French song Shipper Mom taught me:

She was always thickening her voice for the 'oh-oh-oh' in the chorus and I was over the moon clapping and shrieking and laughing like a blessed idiot - encore, maman, encore!- until she was bursting into laughter herself.

In the above recording, Maurice Chevalier is wrong. This is not a tune from Lorraine. It is a Medieval Celtic tune from Brittany, all the way. The song is the classical take on the French folk tale of a shepherd girl who meets the King's son marching to war. She is given a sprig of marjoram and instructed to plant it in a nearby field. If the sprig blooms, he will marry her. If not, tant pis, too bad - a girl can dream, right?

Of course, any resemblance to Cinderella's shoe trial is absolutely explicable. Charles Perrault just collected these fairy tales and then the Brothers Grimm made them universal.

Next came the very limited French music available to someone growing up in a gruesome dictatorship, during the Eighties. It wasn't that bad, but it was delightfully outdated. These still make me overly and cheaply sentimental, but about all of them - tomorrow.

[lives-in-a-harpsichord]

art by the amazing @mortiscausa, commissioned by me. Rameau and Lully, mes gars. I love this so much and it looks even better than in my brain. Check out that harpsichord. Check out the pine detail (my request because. Atys) Check out the colours!!

I'm so happy

[mahgnib]

Louis Carrogis de Carmontelle, 1760, depicting French Baroque master Jean-Phillipe Rameau seemingly in the act of composing.

[terminalthrillness]

not now Rameau my blood pressure is too high