Pierre-Arnaud Dablemont, pianist » bizarre

André Rieux Syndrome

Pierre-Arnaud — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 18:00:33 +0000

We all know the dutch fiddler and his orchestra dressed à la mode of XVIII^th century, but would his name be associated to a psychiatric disorder? Not yet officially, but it won’t be long coming. I noticed that many musicians and artistic directors were subject to the same symptoms that I have been regrouping under the “Andre Rieux syndrome”.

But what is it? To understand, we must first review Rieux’ recipe :

Take a few classic tunes rather light and easy to memorize and some known pop songs. Rearrange the classical tunes to obtain a folk orchestration and mix everything. Rub in a paste of very fat marketing, season with a pinch of self-centeredness and megalomania. Finally, serve while pretending you have good intentions.

That’s the billionaire’s recipe. No jealousy, but a great admiration : lure of money and fame have become more important than professional conscience, and I wouldn’t be able to think this way. I would not sleep any more.

As you certainly noticed, the André Rieux syndrome has spread widely in recent years. Crossovers of all kinds, strange programming mixing film music and classical symphonies, and so on… All motivated by the laudable aim of attracting a new audience and democratizing classical music. Bullshit, it’s just THE André Rieux syndrome.

First symptoms: believing that classical music should be democratized by making it more “accessible”. Shortening a forty minutes symphony to a few poorly orchestrated themes is dreadful. A composer builds a structure, progressions and extracting two or three themes from his work is a non-sense and is tantamount to quoting two sentences from Lost Illusions by Balzac and pretend you’ve read the book: it is not democratization but a lie.

Democratization? There is none required, at least not this way. Explain and convey your passion, I agree, but it requires a bigger effort for each side. The patient with an Andre Rieux syndrome makes you think he helps you understand and love music while he is only simplifying things. So, he takes you for a congenital idiot not able to rise to his “level”.

And it is logical because his ego is overdeveloped. He would do anything to get recognition, fame and money. Even sacrificing the most beautiful pages of the greatest composers on the altar of capitalism. Even playing Michael Jackson with a symphony orchestra. Poor Michael, he would have gone mad if he had heard.

And will it attract a new audience to classical music? No, but it will really become more profitable for the producer. The main aim is not to share a true musical moment with the audience, it is to generate the biggest income. It’s not enough to take you for a fool, the patient with this syndrome has to rip you off: classical concerts are far cheaper than a ticket for a show à la Rieux.

If you recognize a Andre Rieux syndrome, think of me and buy a concert ticket for a classical concert: I’m sure you’ll like it, you will not be taken for a fool, it will cost you less and you will certainly experience a much better quality of performance.

On rituals and lucky charms

Pierre-Arnaud — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 16:00:56 +0000

Last week I wrote here about going on stage and I evoked the “lucky charm”. Today I will focus on pre-concert rituals as well as these charms. Some do not have rituals or lucky charms, and others elaborate complex rituals which become totally obsessive. Star’s whim or real necessity?

I’m not, compared to others, prone to ritual behaviors before a concert. No extraordinary demand, but I have a couple of habits : I need to iron my shirt by myself before the concert or clean the piano keyboard, for example. Loneliness and silence before playing are also part of my routine but I guess it’s more a matter of concentration than anything else.

However, I have (or rather had) some good luck “stuffs” that I needed to ensure the quality of the concert. First, as ridiculous as it sounds, I used to have my “magic” socks. Yes, I always wore the same pair of socks since an especially successful concert. I decided it was lucky socks, absolutely necessary to perform but I lost them… It was a real disaster, impossible to find the famous socks, and I was forced to play with others and finally, the concert went well. So, I am now freed from this belief and am able to play wearing any pair of socks.

Second must-have item: my pocket-handkerchief. Useful when it ‘s getting too hot under the spotlight, but also to dry and clean the keyboard, my handkerchief is my fetish object and leads me to special rituals: ironed at the same time as the shirt, I check several times its presence in the inside pocket of my jacket before the concert. Once on stage, the first thing I do is putting the piece of cloth in its place, always the same, on the piano frame just before the tuning pins on the right. Certainly my way to make of this stranger piano my piano during the concert.

Nothing special for me as you can see, but some musicians have more complex requests. I saw a conductor requiring 100 roses in his dressing room before playing, or musicians yelling at managers because of the size of a dressing room. But I must say that some organizations allow unimaginable things: cameras not covered by contracts, microphones that immortalize a performance without authorization, really bad piano, lack of staff and poor organization. Although this is not happening all the time, these incidents occur, and often lead to last minute cancellations by artists, then vilified by the press and the production. This is not always fair, and increases the number of our requirements to avoid having to fight against this kind of inconvenience.

We must understand that the soloist is subjected to high stress, and these rituals, requirements and lucky charms which can seem strange are often an unconscious way to hold their own against pressure. Some know how to evacuate stress without becoming “tyrants”, while others do not …

Going on stage

Pierre-Arnaud — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 16:00:55 +0000

Concert evening, in the dressing-room. Tonight, I’ll be playing a recital methodically prepared during the last weeks. Final moments before appearing on stage. Someone is knocking at the door. A glance in the mirror, last check for the presence of our good-luck stuffs and other necessities. It’s time to go. A few more moments to wait backstage, and suddenly the stage manager asks if I’m ready, opens the door, and motions to me to go on stage. It’s my first contact with this audience, and often the first “live” impression of the audience about the pianist who is about to play tonight. There’s only a few feet between us and the piano, just a few feet, how to cross the distance?

Punchy à la Gavrilov or slow and charismatic like Benedetti’s one, the way to cover the distance from the stage door to the piano is an obsession. I have never been able to appear on stage in a natural manner so far. Being aware that several hundred pairs of eyes are watching every step of mine is driving me nuts. It may seem ridiculous, because walking to the piano is perhaps technically the simplest thing to do in a recital, but a billion questions arise at the same time: do I have to walk and take a bow in front of the piano, or stay behind the bench? A hand on the piano or not? The concentrated air or friendly and smiling? Small or big steps? Fast or slow ones?

Some pianists practice their entrance, count the number of steps and keep time in order to fit a perfect timing, neither too long nor too short. A strategy has been developed and the pianist becomes an actor for a few seconds. But finally, isn’t this apprehension just a cannot-see-the-forest-for-the-trees attitude? I mean, isn’t it a way to artificially forget what we really fear, that is to say playing?

I do not really know, since leaving scene is also problematic, although our job is almost done. What does frighten us so much then?

Classical music against “undesirables”

Pierre-Arnaud — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 07:00:07 +0000

The municipality of Trois-Rivières in Québec has found a strange way to secure the local underground parking. The authorities have indeed installed headspeakers, playing around the clock classical music in the stairwells of this big parking lot.

With a high sound level, the municipality intends to disturb and drive anyone seeking refuge in the parking lot away. According to the city’s spokesperson, more and more homeless and drug-addicted individuals settle down there, mostly in winter, causing a feeling of insecurity among the structure’s users.

Of course, the spokesperson admits that this displaces the issue rather than resolving it. But, what seems to be the most comical is to use classical music as a repellent. It’s certainly more peaceful than the “Malodore” used in Argenteuil, but I find it difficult to accept that classical music might be considered as a potential repellent.

Imagine one second the discussion which could follow from this… “I am sure that if we blast on repeat Mahler’s 5th symphony by Karajan, homeless would run away faster rather than with Mozart’s piano concertos by Perahia.” Surrealist, isn’t it? I’m certain in any case that the result the municipality wanted to obtain is the total opposite of what these composers had wished for…

Does all of this seems normal or am I the only one to be offended by this absurdity?