Studios Saint Germain

Posted on 23/09/2015

Last week, I spent three great days in the new Studios Saint Germain with producer François Delabrière for an upcoming project from singer Marc Lavoine. I’ve worked in this studio before, when it was still called Studio Acousti, and have fond memories of what the place used to be. We made Lise’s debut album there in 2009, a conceptual album made exclusively with piano, including drum sounds, effects etc. Fortunately the sensational Steinway piano we used for those experimental sessions survived the change into what the studio has become now. I also did several sessions there for an ad campaign for L’Oréal, that featured the Steinway prominently.

The studio went through some shaky times in the past years, and almost became a Yoga club. Fortunately things worked out much better. An ambitious trio of talented entrepreneurs have turned the place around: Pierre Guimard, Matthieu Tessier and Raphaël Hamburger, with Stan Neff as the main engineer. A lot of good choices have been made already, amongst other things seriously freshening up the place, and most importantly getting hold of a wonderful old Neve console from the BBC. Beside the studio itself, a big part of what makes this place special is the fact that it’s situated in the Rue de Seine by the boulevard Saint Germain, in one of the very neighbourhoods that define Paris.

Times are hard in the music business these days, the entire industry is undergoing something close to an earthquake. Much less revenue is generated; and the way the remains are being redistributed is chaotic and opaque. A lot of people in the industry are going through times of draught; and often legendary studios around town shut down and become supermarkets. In this environment it is incredibly revigorating to have people taking these kind of initiatives. For the moment the studio is off to a great start, I hope that they can keep up the steam and that a lot of great records will be made there.

Hugo Rasmussen

Posted on 02/09/2015

The great jazz double bassist Hugo Rasmussen from Denmark has passed away… He’s been active since the 60’s making great records in a multitude of styles, but like most people of my generation (born in Denmark in the 70’s) I know him best from the many children’s records and TV shows he performed on in the 70’s and 80’s. I think the subliminal influence on Danish kids from his playing, as well as the other great musicians working on those projects, is something to acknowledge. He definately put a groove to the soundtrack of my childhood way before I even had an idea about what that means.

Adamo in ICP

Posted on 17/06/2015

I’m on the train back from another great stay at ICP studios in Brussels, the music-making paradise. This time it was for Salvatore Adamo, my third disc with this elegant gentleman, who has a remarkable 50-year long career and has sold over 100 million records. Not bad. This time I got the opportunity to work for the first time with some great people around flemish producer Jo Francken, whose many successful projects include Milow’s international hit cover of “Ayo Technology”. One of the things I really love about music is how easy you can develop meaningful relationships with people in only a few days. People making music really do form a worldwide community, and it’s a great thing to be part of.

You should check out the solo projects of some of these guys: arranger Koen Renders has a cool, 60’s vibe band called Spencer the Rover and the incredible guitarist Tom Vanstiphout has a nice solo career as a singer-songwriter.



Posted on 25/05/2015

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Last night in New Caledonia, the piano at the venue was in a very poor condition. Pianos are hard to come across on this island, and this one has spent most of its life in a hotel lobby. It had only been temporarily removed from the hotel for our concert. The piano tuner spent most of the afternoon taking the piano apart to try to get the mechanics working at least half-reliably. It was a tiny baby grand, which makes for some very short bass strings, which results in a pretty strange sound in the lower register. Everyone seemed concerned about how it would perform, but to my own surprise I wasn’t that worried. And the concert went down very well. I guess there are several reasons why performing on a less than perfect instrument doesn’t have to be a negative experience.

First of all, it depends on your focus. One image that comes to mind is that of legendary pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim performing in a run-down community hall in Ramallah, Palestine. I remember him performing the Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven on a ragged, old, uneven piano. This is a man who spends his life in the most prestigious concert halls in the world, playing the most pristine, sublime, expensive pianos you can imagine. Yet he didn’t seem to mind the quality of the old piano in Ramallah. The concert had such an enormous symbolic value: a musical legend of his caliber coming to this troubled part of the world, playing in a neighborhood where people of his status normally wouldn’t even set foot, let alone give a concert. From that point of view, who cares about the quality of the piano? I believe that even if you aren’t playing in Ramallah, and even if you’re not Barenboim, if your focus is on sharing music with people, about trying to bring forth that unique social experience that a concert can be, where people gather around music and temporarily leave their everyday struggles behind them, and somehow manage to connect in a dimension beyond language and divisions, the quality of the instrument isn’t all that important. At least it shouldn’t be your main concern.

Another reason is that limitations can be quite inspiring. Keith Jarrett, besides being one of the greatest musicians alive, is known for being extremely, almost hysterically demanding, including regarding the choice of his piano in any given venue. He’ll usually have two or three Steinways delivered at soundcheck to choose from. But when he was in Rio a few years ago for one of his improvised solo concerts, he was stuck with an old piano that had spent many years in Brazil, in less than optimal conditions for preserving an instrument. This imperfect, unique instrument inspired him to perform an absolutely magical concert, working around the shortcomings of the instrument and highlighting it’s qualities. He was himself so overwhelmed, that he called his label manager, Manfred Eicher of ECM records, the next morning from the airport and said: “Forget about everything we have planned, we have to release a live album of last night’s concert.”

The city of New Orleans also comes to mind. This place has one of the most humid climates you can imagine, it’s extremely hot, and it seems like one of the worst places in the world to have a piano, especially in a world pre-aircondition. Yet surprisingly, it’s one of the piano capitals of the world. People like Professor Longhair, Dr. John, Allen Toussaint and many more have invented a style of playing that is a wonderful mix of Caribbean, African, and Western influences, and that is perfectly suited to these climatically challenged pianos. Like Keith Jarrett, these people brilliantly managed to find the unique voices of the instruments and build around them, instead of being frustrated by their limitations.

On a broader level, working with limitations is a well-established and mature creative concept. Brian Eno has put a lot of thought into this. He has even made a deck of cards with rules on them, and if you ever find yourself stuck in your creative process, you pull a card and submit yourself to whatever the card dictates. “Work at a different speed”, “Use an old idea”, “Honor thy error as a hidden intention”, things like that. I don’t know if using a less-than-perfect instrument is on one of the cards, but it definitely could be.

This approach works really well in recording studios, as well. If you try to use whatever instruments are lying around, even if they have shortcomings or are dysfunctional in some way, it’s always an interesting process to see what idea you can get out of whatever the instrument has to offer. And it’s a guaranteed way of not repeating yourself, since you’re responding to something that is unique to the place and the context you’re in.

Why not even apply this philosophy to people, relationships, situations? Things are never entirely perfect. But if you accept this fact, and focus on trying to build around the unique qualities that any given individual, place or situation has to offer, and not get destabilized by whatever imperfections there might be, beautiful things could happen. It’s definitely a way to improve the odds.


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