Canadian Diane Labrosse is a part of the musique actuelle movement. Literally it means contemporary music. Yes, that is rather broad, isn’t it? The deeper meaning that’s applied to it serves to coin a genre which encapsulates elements of jazz, avant-garde rock as well as musical improvisation. Late 60s-70s avant-rockers Henry Cow (originally, Fred Frith and Tim Hodgkinson) are looked to as originators of musique actuelle.

Labrosse is also a part of the Montréal based Ambiances Magnétiques Collective. It was an artist co-op before Joane Hétu founded the record label. That collective includes: Jean Derome, René Lussier (co-founded the collective along with Derome), André Duchesne, Robert Marcel Lepage, Danielle Palardy Roger, Joane Hétu, Martin Tétreault and Michel F Côté. The last two members were later additions, the other seven were the original 1983 members.

There’s no shortage of releases (forty), or groups for Diane, either. Most of them involve members of the AMC including Justine, an all female affair including Danielle and Joane with the addition of Marie Trudeau. Wondeur Brass, which has essentially the same line-up as Justine only without Trudeau. There’s also repeated pairings with Tétreault. Île bizarre, which sees that duo aided by Ikue Mori is highly recommended.

In English, Petit traité de sagesse pratique, translates to “a short treatise on practical wisdom”. According to AM’s press release on their website this album is “a series of miniature songs whose texts-some ironic or mocking, others of (intentionally) questionable value-are drawn from those great popular guides we call proverbs. These reflections on morality, often out-of-date, are re-examined, reworked… by Diane Labrosse”. Seeing as how the lyrics aren’t in English, my response is “if you say so”.

Petit is thirty-seven tracks barely spanning forty-nine minutes. It should go without saying that there are a hell of a lot of ideas, musically and non—, packed into such a concise time frame. There are no songs over two minutes and only two under thirty seconds. While superficially, it might not seem like such time constraints would work for avant-garde music, after all, haven’t we grown accustomed to half hour tracks from the likes of keith rowe by now? While Petit’s mere approach itself may seem experimental, each piece of music is its own concrete statement. The brevity never seems to fracture anything and while there’s a plethora of tracks that I wish were longer, the album works and without any regrets. Diane may be receiving the sole-billing for this CD, but I have to imagine that there were quite a few other people helping her out as this is full of instrumentation (drums, upright bass, saxophone, digiridoo, flute and probably more that I don’t even know the names of) as well as male vocals on a few of the songs. One of the downsides to downloading music is that there’s no liner notes from which to reference and I can’t find any credits for this album online beyond Diane’s.

Let’s get down to the musical content. Nearly every piece of music is punctuated by vocals of some manner; tribalesque bellowing (trust, me it sounds better than I worded it), chanting, reverbed shouting, talking, singing, laughing, maggie nicols-like wailing and maja ratkje-like vocal noisery (on the spot improvisational spelling by me). The music is just as diverse as the vocals. The most unexpected moment comes in at track number thirty-four, À tout seigneur, toute horreur, which is a charming piece of thrash rock that’s cut up, panned and otherwise manipulated with fantastic results. Going back to the Henry Cow influence, the shadow of that group’s unrest can certainly be felt looming over some of Petit. In a gross summation of sounds, there’s jazzier numbers, mellower and sparser ones, noisy passages, atmospheric music as well as some upbeat rockers to be found throughout the disc and it’s all expertly balanced. That balance is just as important as the music is, especially when you consider the amount of tracks versus the amount of time allotted for them. There’s no feeling of heaviness anywhere or segmentation, but there is a nice sense of flow.

For me, Petit traité de sagesse pratique is an overwhelming success. If there were to be impasses in anyone’s enjoyment of it, I’d say that they would lie with the vocals; however, the tracks that I might be tempted to call questionable are few and far between and in most of the situations the music itself really elevates, not just accentuates, the vocals anyway.

Cette parution de 1999 fouaille et suinte une science du montage, à travers des vocaux chuchotés ou déclamés, des trémolos de saxophone au bord de l’abime et des carambolages de samplers et d’appeaux… Voyage en forme de succession de figures de style, ce Petit traité… révise thématiquement plus de trente-cinq proverbes issus des cultures francophones, pour hurler, déstructurer à l’envi nos valeurs en déshérence! À tout seigneur, toute horreur.

Supported by a strong cast of mainly Canadian electroacoustic improvisors, including Martin Tétreault, Jean Derome and Rainer Wiens, Diane Labrosse offers a series of miniature songs which examine the wisdom, or otherwise, of the proverbs of conventional morality. The songs are all sung in French, and whilst those with only a ropy grasp of the language may be denied optimum enjoyment of the disc, this matters little. Italian Opera still survives for some as a sumptuous banquet for the ears despite, at best, partial understanding of the lyrics by most devotees. Labrosse’s marriage of text and music is beautifully executed, spanning many stylistic genres, through jazz, rock, Early Music and of course improvisation. Tétreault’s grainy, ghostly turntables and Derome’s more earthly saxophone declamations typify the way in which an unsettling coherence is wrought from stark juxtapositions. The shortness of the songs produces an episodic feel, reminiscent of Machine For Making Sense, another outfit who explore the relationship of text and improvisation. This stimulating disc is almost reason enough to enrol for evening classes in French.

Dianne Labrosse takes us on a weird cross-cultural journey with her Petit traité de Sagesse pratique which also features Joane Hétu! Here a cast of ten musicians (the Ambiances magnétiques all-stars, we could call them) perform a sonic mutation suite of works that runs the gamut of modern avant-garde drawing in almost every music you could imagine. Bizarre is too simple a word for it. This is challenging radical stuff that defies any attempt at description!

Toute l’équipe du label Ambiances magnétiques se retrouve ici aux côtés de Diane Labrosse pour cet heureux détournement de proverbes.

Traité de sagesse pratique en cinq tableaux (philosophie, sagesse, sentiments, quotidien, morale) et trente-sept courtes pièces collages; Diane Labrosse détourne free jazz, chant grégorien, toccata, musique aléatoire et negro spiritual avec un humour dévastateur.

Quelques perles glanées au hasard: Deuil pour deuil, an pour an, Plus on est mou, plus on s’excuse; Une loi n’est pas Coutume; L’argent n’a pas d’honneur, etc. C’est riche, ça fourmille, c’est résolument inclassable, diablement jouissif et c’est indiscutablement l’une des plus denses productions du label québécois. À consommer sans modération aucune.

Diane Labrosse made her mark in 80s/90s eclectic groups Justine, Les Poules and Wondeur Brass. Her 1995 solo debut Face cachée des choses typified much that’s engaging about Québec’s New Music: an enviable knack of delivering formal complexity with a seemingly effortless ease, often alive with joyous humour. Likewise, Petit traité de Sagesse pratique (A Short Treatise On Practical Wisdom) wears a broad smile as it reexamines 37 proverbs in 49 minutes with much fleet instrumental interplay, vocal breathlessness and hilarity, oblique melodies, sampled fragments and turntable snap, crackle ’n’ pop Top-notch support from AM regulars including Jean Derome, Joane Hétu, Martin Tétreault and Michel F Côté.

Sur Petite traité de sagesse pratique, Diane Labrosse remodèle et actualise trente-sept proverbes en leur collant chacun une ambiance bien distincte. Ce qui nous donne droit à un «free jazz» pour le proverbe Rien ne sert de mourir quand on a tout son temps, à une pièce de type «crooner» pour Qui aime trop souvent récolte l’Herpès et à un «jingle» sur Bière qui coule fait de la mousse. Et il ne s’agit que de trois exemples sur trente-sept! La cohabitation langage/musique est tellement éminente qu’elle nous force à tenir compte du tout et non à écouter seulement ce qu’il nous plaît. L’humour avec lequel chacune de ces pièces miniatures est traité rend l’écoute de l’album facile et légère sans jamais être insipide. Tiré de son spectacle Petit à petit l’oiseau fait son cri, Labrosse (accompagnée d’une dizaine de musiciens) a bien recréé les ambiances moqueuses et fantaisistes qui se dégageaient du Théâtre de la petite chapelle à Montréal (quelques pièces du disque proviennent de ce concert). Une fois de plus la gang d’Ambiances magnétiques prouve que les concepts se suivent mais ne se ressemblent pas.

Contrairement à celui de Joane Hétu, le nouvel album de Diane Labrosse (également ex Justine) comporte plusieurs invités de marque (entre autre Michel F Côté, Jean Derome, Martin Tétreault et Hétu) et est par le fait même beaucoup plus étoffé et moins égocentrique. Une suite de chansons miniatures (il y en a 37!), déconstruites, aux textes parfois moqueurs, parfois ironiques, souvent abstraits qui puisent leur inspiration de proverbes, expressions et références populaires. Ces formulations désuètes sont remaniées avec un humour étrange et “modernisées” en quelque sorte par une Labrosse allumée. Souvent jazz et planante, parfois baroque, médiévale ou contemporaine avec un soupçon de blues et de folklore mais toujours expérimentale, la musique de Labrosse n’est certes pas facile à décrire: un collage d’ambiances bizarres, d’humeurs changeantes et de textes décousus. Un disque touffu qui se laisse quelque peu apprivoiser au fil des écoutes. Intéressant pour ceux qui aiment le risque. (7/10)

Diane Labrosse’s album is a beast of another colour. Translated roughly as Small Treatise On Practical Wisdom, the album is a examination of 37 proverbs and their guiding power on daily life. What further marks this ambitious project is that each of the 37 tracks is presented in a different musical style and titled after a virtue or human failing: thus Freedom with the proverb “all madness is in nature” is delivered as a canon; “Ignorance” as a psychedelic piece; Séduction as a ballad and so on. Labrosse is aided and abetted by many of the label’s other artists, including Joane Hétu. These 37 pieces are (necessarily) short and either flow together like water or strain like tectonic plates, but in the end they are little windows onto the lives we live.

Diane Labrosse and Joane Hétu also move away from the avant-rock they made with the all-women group Wondeur Brass. There are many influences to trace on the new cd by Diane Labrosse Petit traité de sagesse pratique (A Short Treatise on Practical Wisdom). The title suggests an academic study on (dear) prudence, but we have here a cd with 37 little miniature songs and pieces on diverse virtues and other moral subjects. All treated with lots of humor and irony of course. The music is inspired on baroque and medieval music, folk, jazz, cointemporary music, blues, etc. Performed by 9 musicians: Jean Derome, Martin Tétreault among others.

Nous connaissons tous, certains mieux que d’autres, ces proverbes que l’on trouve dans les pages roses du dictionnaire, petites phrases censées renfermer une parcelle de Vérité. La sagesse consiste-elle à connaître (et comprendre) ces adages, ou plutôt, comme le fait Diane Labrosse, à les réinventer, à les dévier de leur trajectoire et ainsi leur réinvestir une signification? La sagesse ne comprend-elle pas une part d’irrévérence et d’insoumission?

Diane Labrosse, maîtresse-échantillonneure d’Ambiances magnétiques, propose avec Petit traité de Sagesse pratique son second album solo. Mais alors que Face cachée des choses (qui remonte à quelques années déjà) la présentait seule à la conception de pièces intimistes, à la limite de l’art audio, le projet Sagesse pratique réunissait l’armada d’Ambiances magnétiques: Michel F Côté (percussions), Jean Derome (sax alto, flûtes, appeaux, jouets), Joane Hétu (sax alto), Alexandre St-Onge (contrebasse, guitare basse préparée), Pierre Tanguay (batterie, percussions), Martin Tétreault (tourne-disques) et Rainer Wiens (guitare préparée) — tous utilisent leur voix à un moment ou l’autre. Un spectacle a été présenté en février 1999 et ce disque utilise des bribes de la captation faite à ce moment par Radio-Canada, mais une grande partie du matériel a été enregistré en studio.

Petit traité de Sagesse pratique se présente comme un livre en cinq chapitres, d’une dizaine de minutes chacun. On y trouve 37 pièces, 37 proverbes «réactualisés», à raison de six à huit proverbes par chapitre, aucun ne dépassant deux minutes. Chaque chapitre aborde un thème: la philosophie, la sagesse, les sentiments, le quotidien, la morale. De Petit à petit l’oiseau fait son cri à Tous les fous sont dans la nature en passant par Qui aime trop souvent récolte l’herpès, Labrosse nous propose des relectures proverbiales associées à des instantanés musicaux censés se rapporter à des styles déterminés (gavotte, free jazz, ménestrel, etc. ). Ces styles doivent être compris comme des sources d’inspiration très libres et non pas comme un cadre programmatique.

Ce disque surprend par sa cohésion: avec autant de pièces, il aurait été facile de s’éparpiller. Et pourtant non, Sagesse pratique gravite autour d’une esthétique qui mélange efficacement recherche sonore et héritage musical. L’humour des nouveaux proverbes, qui se reflète à l’occasion dans la translation musicale, confère à ce «livre-disque» un caractère très digeste. Le jeu de tourne-disques de Tétreault surprend à quelques endroits et je me plais de l’entendre renouer avec ce qu’il faisait sur Je me souviens de Jean Derome ou encore Des pas et des mois avec René Lussier (ces dernières recherches, plus minimalistes, m’intéressaient moins). Derrière l’improvisation présente sur chaque pièce, on sent la main de Labrosse sur le gouvernail qui imprime à tous le cap. Une belle réussite, un disque riche, qui résiste à merveille aux écoutes multiples. Notons enfin la présentation graphique, au-dessus de la moyenne d’Ambiances magnétiques. Très fortement recommandé.

If you’ve ever heard and enjoyed avant garde works like David Byrne’s The Catherine Wheel (or even The Body by Roger Waters and Ron Geesin), then you might find the sound sculptures by Diane Labrosse to be delectable. Of the 29 short pieces, I particularly enjoyed the hymn Temerite, which is graced with a surprising willingness to be musical, and the minimalist Pudeur, which features some spooky cool whispers. I wasn’t really fond of anything else, but at least there aren’t too many back-to-back-punches (like the unfathomably irritating Pondération and Discernement ) that make you want to throw a brick on her CD.

Everybody remembers some of these popular sayings found in the dictionary, short sentences presumably holding a piece of Truth. Does wisdom consist of knowing (and understanding) these sayings, or wouldn’t it be, like Diane Labrosse does, recreating them, knocking them out of their trajectory, giving them new meaning? Isn’t wisdom made in part of irreverence? Labrosse, master samplist at Ambiances Magnétiques, proposes with Petit traité de sagesse pratique (“Little treatise on practical wisdom”) her second solo album. The first, Face cachée des choses, showcased her alone in introspective pieces. This project required many guns from the Ambiances Magnétiques arsenal: Michel F Côté (percussion), Jean Derome (alto sax, flutes, birdcalls, toys), Joane Hétu (alto sax), Alexandre St-Onge (double bass, prepared bass guitar), Pierre Tanguay (drums, percussion), Martin Tétreault (turntables) and Rainer Wiens (prepared guitar).

Petit Traité de Sagesse Pratique takes the shape of a “book” grouping the 37 modernized sayings into five chapters of about ten minutes each. The sayings (in French) are all diverted from their original meaning through play of words, and would not make any sense if translated in english. If you don’t understand french, you will definitely lose a dimension of this album. But the revamped sayings are paired with musical snapshots meant to relate to determined styles (from gavotte to free jazz, symphony to medieval). These styles should be understood as inspirational sources rather than a program in themselves. The cohesion of this record is surprising: with so many tracks, it would have been easy to fire everywhere at once. Petit traité de sagesse Pratique revolves around an esthetical center consisting of a blend of sonic exploration and musical tradition. Behind the improvisations taking an important role in every snippet, one feels Labrosse’s hand firmly holding the helm and maintaining the goal. A successful project, a record full of ideas resisting to multiple listens. And one must point out the beautiful artwork, a notch above what is usually found on this label.

• Julian Cowley, The Wire, no. 209, July 1, 2001