Clartés obscures - Philippe Malhaire

What do we expect from a composer? That they position themselves within a lineage? That they boldly – or discreetly – proclaim having studied under a renowned master, or followed in the footsteps of another? It’s natural to claim an affiliation, and indeed, institutions often reward the loyalty of students to certain values. And yet, is it really that important? Might it not be better to focus on the essential, without tallying up awards, without scrutinizing every detail of their academic journey, and instead reframe the question: to expect nothing, but to listen – with curiosity, with openness. From a composer, we above all hope to be surprised, intrigued, even astonished! Most of all, we wish for them to have found their own path, for their writing to be personal, to stand apart from their peers, to be theirs alone.

With Philippe Malhaire, we are not disappointed. This "young" forty-one-year-old composer, still virtually unknown in elite circles, has been quietly asserting his singular voice over the years – even at the risk of being misunderstood or overlooked – and cultivating a kind of mindful marginality. He is not in search of "novelty" – which often proves superficial when sought too deliberately – and even less of modernism. Like many of his generation, Malhaire has turned away from the avant-garde – what remains of it in the 2020s – yet he does not fit into a tradition either, except perhaps that of refusing any subordination.

Anthony Girard

Suite mineure pour piano (éd. Klarthe)

Une Petite Plaisanterie* pour mezzo-soprano et piano (éd. Klarthe)

Cathédrale** pour piano à quatre mains (éd. Delatour)

Suite pour violon et piano*** (éd. Klarthe)

Fanny Prandi, piano
*Camille Bauer, mezzo-soprano
**Sylvain Combaluzier, piano
***Stéphanie Moraly, violin