Several listeners and reviewers have written that there is something "fragile" about my music.
I think their comment is right.
There is something "fragile" in my music, which is about breathing, sighing, silence, hesitation.
This "fragile" side is also due to the fact that I try to reach a
purified sound, minimal at times, both essential and necessary,
following the inner vibrations of my sensitivity and my inspiration,
even of my breathing...
I do not seek, I do not seek any more a massive sound, a "big electronic
sound". I don't want to impress... I want to touch the listener...
I look for the purity, the breath, the sigh, the resonances which
linger, the traces of the music when it is on the threshold of silence.
"Fragile", no doubt also, because my music reflects states of mind,
moments of doubt, sadness, questioning, despair sometimes, but also, as
Homer said, moments of smile mixed with tears, where the hope of a new
day comes to dissipate the anguish of the deep night.
No serious or profound music, felt and thought from the depths of a soul, remains on the surface of things.
It is both questions and answers. Doubts and certainties. Sorrows and hopes.
Music is not about technique.
It has to do with the exploration and the sharing of the depths.
Its formal and existential fragility are the source of its power.
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