Gris-brume

After Autumn Rhythm (for violin and piano, 2018) and Number 1 (for solo piano, 2019), Camille Pépin continues her cycle of chamber music works inspired by the all-over paintings of the American painter Jackson Pollock: the composer's first foray into the repertoire for cello and piano, Gris-brume draws its singular expressiveness from the painting Number 14 , its dark intertwined lines and the silvery-grey halo formed by the dilution of the black paint on the canvas.

If Gris-brume does not use Pollock's title, it is because Camille Pépin is moving away from her usual affinity with American composers to more clearly align herself with a French tradition. The fluid character of Number 14 gives rise to a Debussy-esque experimentation that is reminiscent of the orchestral textures developed by the composer in The Sound of Trees (2019). Subtly soliciting timbres and registers, the opening bars are made of fog and smoke: the piano rumbles imperceptibly in the left hand, while the right hand resonates a volley of bells in an archaic modal color. Throughout the work, one will notice the use of keyboard techniques that recall the composer of Estampes – notably in these basses that come to shed light once the harmony is established.

For it is indeed the piano that initiates the atmosphere of the work and welcomes the bowed instrument to form a fusional tandem, far from the melodic supremacy that has long been attached to the romantic cello. A lyrical theme, however, eventually emerges from the strings. The ensemble then gains in power throughout the work until the final apotheosis, following an irresistible progressive trajectory that recalls certain great works of Maurice Ravel ( Bolero, La Valse , etc.). In the meantime, the composer has introduced into the initial mist emblematic motifs of her own musical language: balanced rhythmic formulas, increasingly insistent, lead the work to tip into dance. Initially playful and luminous, the pas de deux of the string instruments is soon the site of surprising contrasts of articulation and significant dynamic ruptures that take on a threatening turn. The dark tangles of Pollock's canvas then seem to spring from the canvas, transforming into a fantastical ballet of ghosts.

Tristan Labouret