The conductor, vocalist and alto saxophonist Joane Hétu brings her avant-pop background to these experimental tracks that employ the Ensemble SuperMusique.

The distinct title track opens with Sarah Albu’s inviting voice that acts like an instrument amid Julie Houle’s well timed tuba, and Elle n’est pas un animal arrives soon after with Luzio Altobelli’s bright accordion that suits the many voices and ‘found object’ type noises.

Landing in the middle, Avoir le motton welcomes Émilie Fortin’s animated trumpet and Noam Bierstone lively percussion to a very rich album highlight, while Lumière benefits greatly from Michel F Côté’s electronic manipulation alongside Albu’s expressive pipes.

Further still, Elle a dit oui has the voices layered strategically and Hétu’s colorful sax present with much creativity, and Elle qui est-elle? exits with a very animated demeanor that blends the wind, brass and percussion with distinct singing.

Mostly new but some older pieces are present, as Hétu fleshes out harmonics, rhythm, and strong attention to tonality with an iconoclastic spirit.

Saxophonist and vocalist Joane Hétu has long been one of the leading figures in Montréal’s French-speaking avant-garde (e.g., the band Justine). She deserves to be better known in the Anglosphere, and this witty new collaboration with Ensemble SuperMusique should help.

Auch Elle a son mot à dire von Joane Hétu wird dargeboten mit dem Ensemble SuperMusique — Émilie Fortin, trompette, Luzio Altobelli, accordéon, Noam Bierstone, percussions, Michel F Côté, percussions & électronique und Hétu selber, als cheffe an saxophone alto. Als Sammlung kurioser Songs, angestimmt von Sarah Albu, mit ihrem Knowhow im Vokalensemble Phth, auf „According to the Moon“ (2023) als Interpretin von Gayle Young, auf „Voix Jetées“ (2024) von Nico Muhly, Missy Mazzoli, Keiko Devaux, Nicole Lizée und Jared Miller. Elle n’a pas de mot noch wortlos zu Whirliesound. Mot elle a mit bedrücktem und insistentem Sang zu nur Drums & Percussion. Elle n’est pas un animal als anarchistische Babbelbande mit Akkordeon, Pfeifen, Spielzeug. Un idéal nur die Grrrls a cappella. Avoir le motton erst nur Altosax und Trompetengrowls, dann mit Albu und Drums. Bis sie als zarathustrische SuperWoman der Schlange den Kopf abbeißt und ausspuckt. Vivante erklingt mit Sprechgesang, der zu Simpelgroove ins Delirium abzweigt. Lumière folgt mit verstopfter Trompete, Akkordeon, mondstichigem Singsang. Chant à elle singt Hétu feierlich allein. Jojo dit nur Männer-nonsense zu Elektrononsense und ein Paar Zügen des Akkordeons. Elle n’est pas un animal bringt bruitistisch-surreal verspielte Tierporträts à la „Ceci n’est pas une pipe.“ Bei Elle a dit oui lallen, haspeln, jaulen alle und verlangen dit oui a elle, di wi a L. Elle a son mot à dire schießt mit Vogelpfeifen den Vogel ab. Und Elle qui est-elle? kratzt die Federn zusammen, alle miteinander melancholisch, mit Trübsal blasender Tuba (Julie Houle), wonnigem Akkordeon, der phantastischen Sarah Albu im Tanz um Elle, Zapfenstreich der Trompete. Als kollektive Huldigung der Sphinx. Als toller Streich von Hétu. Und die Entdeckung einer extraordinären Vokalistin.

Composer, improviser, and saxophonist Joane Hétu has been a vital figure in Quebec’s experimental music scene since the 1980s. Her latest album, Elle a son mot à dire (She Has Her Say), released with Ensemble SuperMusique, brings together compositions written between 2001 and 2023 in a vivid, genre-defying live performance. In recent interviews with both Hétu and trumpet player Émile Fortin, I had the opportunity to explore the creative process behind this album and their views on improvisation, collaboration, and performance.

The album, recorded live in May 2023, reflects Hétu’s signature blend of notated music, improvisation, and text. Though the pieces weren’t composed under a unified theme, Hétu explains that her fascination with language and expression shapes the project: “I didn’t work from a specific theme, but as the title suggests, I explored words I wanted to bring together in a single concert. It’s a unique performance built around language.”

Several of the album’s works are based on original texts, some of which have been long-held, while others are newly written. Vivante, for example, features Hétu on voice and Michel F Côté on percussion in a free improvisation based on a text from 2005 that had never been performed before. In Mot elle a, the singer’s part is fully composed, while the percussionist improvises within a set of guidelines. Other pieces, like Elle qui est-elle?, feature a hybrid form—composed structures with space for instrumental solos, including trumpet and tuba.

For Hétu, this balance between structure and freedom is essential. She describes herself as drawn to “radical improvisation”—music made without scores or directions, relying purely on listening, interaction, and spontaneity. “Improvising takes less time to prepare than a fully notated piece,” she notes, “but it requires a different kind of attention—grace, intelligence, and musicality in the moment.”

The album was created with Ensemble SuperMusique, a variable-geometry collective Hétu co-directs alongside founding member Danielle Palardy Roger. For this project, the group included seven musicians—instrumentalists and vocalists—whose diverse backgrounds and creative input shaped the sound of the performance. The concert wasn’t just about music; it was a total experience. Costumes, makeup, movement, and staging all played a role in supporting the sonic language of the pieces.

One of the performers, Émile Fortin, a classically trained trumpet player and improviser, spoke enthusiastically about the process. “We had about 18 hours of rehearsal, which is a lot for a single performance,” they shared. “Some of the pieces used small percussion or toys instead of our main instruments. The visual element mattered too—we had specific colours, costumes, and makeup. It all helped us feel that the concert was conceived as a whole.”

Émile’s exploration of new music began in graduate school, when a seminar on Vinko Globokar’s Laboratorium introduced her to performance techniques beyond traditional orchestral methods. Her musical identity developed through free improvisation, acting, movement, and performance art. Today, Émile performs in a variety of contexts, from solo work to ensemble settings, and manages their projects, which are centered on experimental and community-engaged music.

She describes free improvisation not only as a musical approach but as a way of relating to others: “It’s like a social model. Sometimes you instantly connect with the other musicians, sometimes you don’t — but you still have to listen and respond. It teaches you how to be present and relevant, just like in a real conversation.” In improvised settings, silence, restraint, and timing become as important as sound itself.

Hétu shares this deep commitment to listening, both in performance and as a composer. While her compositions often begin with texts and melodies that live in her mind for months or years, she always seeks to preserve space for interpretation and dialogue. One thing that distinguishes her work is the way she writes with performers in mind. Émile emphasised this point: “Joane doesn’t just write for the trumpet—she writes for me. She lets each musician’s personality shape the music.”

For those new to experimental music, both artists encourage live listening. “This music isn’t difficult if you allow yourself to let go,” Hétu said. Émile agreed, highlighting the energy of live interaction as a defining feature: “If you can attend a free improvisation performance, that’s where you’ll feel it—especially the moment when something clicks between the musicians.”

They both recommend the track Vivante as a good starting point. “It’s just voice and percussion, but it swings in a way that’s very immediate,” Émile said. “It almost feels like a song you’d hear on the radio, but with so much freedom.”

Beyond Elle a son mot à dire, Hétu continues to mentor and collaborate across generations, helping keep Montréal’s new music ecosystem vibrant and intergenerational. Meanwhile, Émile carries this ethos forward in their projects, including a wind trio called Williwaw, known for performances that blur the boundaries of instrument, object, and identity.

Together, Hétu and Émile exemplify the power of experimental music to create space for individuality, community, and discovery. In this album, and in their artistic lives, they remind us that sound can speak — even when words fail to convey the full meaning.

Joane Hétu ble født i Montréal i Canada i 1958, hvor hun fortsatt bor og arbeider. Hun er musiker, komponist, improvisatør, dirigent og kulturarbeider, Hun bruker sine to instrumenter, vokal og altsaksofon, og «kombinerer fleksibiliteten til det ene og det andres viktighet i en symbiose som er unik for henne», som det står i presseskrivet. Hun dirigerer støykoret JOKER, som hun grunnla i 2012, og som hun blant annet skapte verkene Où est-il donc ce rêve? (2014) og Langoureusengagée (2017) for. Hun har vært meddirigent for Ensemble SuperMusique sammen med Danielle Palardy Roger siden 1998, og hun jobber mye med grafiske partiturer, samt det hun kaller «retningsbestemte gester i improvisert musikk frem i forgrunnen».

Som en dyktig komponist og tekstforfatter har hun samlet over åtti tekster og sanger i sine notatbøker og på innspillinger. På sin nye utgivelse presenterer hun innspillingen av konserten «Elle a son mot à dire», med nye sammensetninger av, så vel kjente som ukjente sanger og reorkestrerte tekster. Her tar musikerne tak i Hétus ord og tar oss med inn i Hétus sin musikalske verden på en original måte.

Her fremfører hun 13 samtidsmusikalske «strekk» sammen med Ensemble SuperMusique, hvor hun selv spiller altsaksofon og leder bandet, sammen med vokalisten Sarah Albu, trompeteren Émilie Fortin, tubaisten Julie Houle, accordionisten Luzio Altobelli, perkusjonisten Noam Bierstone, og Michel F Côté på perkusjon og elektronikk.

Dette er en samling svært varierte låter, hvor deler av ensemblet medvirker for at Hétus skal få fram de ideene hun er ute etter hele vegen. Og vokalisten Sarah Albu har en toneangivende rolle gjennom hele utgivelsen.

Dette er blitt en moderne utgivelse som heller mer mot samtidsmusikken enn den «streite» jazzen. Men gjennomgående er dette spennende og interessant musikk. Og hadde jeg forstått det franske språket, hadde nok dette møtet blitt enda mer spennende. Musikken er variert, det er utmerkede musikere, og kapellmesteren serverer musikk det er vanskelig å sette i bås, men en kunstner som Maja Ratkje dukker av og til opp i bakhodet under lytting, noe som får meg til å lytte på platen mange ganger. Spennende, interessant og, ikke minst, morsomt!

Put out on the circuit via the long standing Avantgarde imprint that is Ambiances Magnetiques on June 27th, 2k25 is Joane Hetu’s Elle a son mot à dire, a new album by the widely recognized Quebec-based saxophonist and vocalist turned composer which has been recorded in collaboration with Ensemble SuperMusique of and in which Hetu has played a pivotal part ever since it came to life back in 1998. The album, presenting a total of 13 pieces both new and revisited over the course of approx. 52 minutes, engages in haunted, tentative and truly ethereal Ambient x Deep Listening Music with the opening piece Elle n’a pas de mot before the subsequent Mot elle a brings forth a powerful and absolutely captivating vocal performance by Sarah Albu who is backed by stripped down and slightly ritualistic percussions surely about to resonate with an audience still fond of mid-90s Björk for a reason or two. Furthermore pieces like Un idéal cater super minimalist rhythm signatures topped by ever thickening repetitive vocal layers whereas the intro sequence of Avoir le motton evokes faint memories of EthioJazz, Vivante serves slightly Industrial-infused Avantgarde x Leftfield Pop based on a captivating, intense Spoken Word performance, Lumière enters a grey area between dreamstate and nocturnal unrest with its fluttering vocals and electronic swells whereas Elle a dit oui ventures off into multi-layered quasi-acappella vocal madness and therefore might be the most suitable score piece for an highly absurd theatrical stage performance, and probably our favorite cut on this album, just to name a few. Quite an interesting a diverse journey, this. Go check!

Joane Hétu is a composer, saxophonist and vocalist who has been a pivotal figure within Quebec, Canada’s vibrant avant-garde, experimental music scene. The title of this album translates to “She has a say in the Matter.”

Hétu is joined on this album by Sarah Albu (another voice), Émilie Fortin on trumpet, Julie Houle playing tuba, Luzio Altobelli on accordion, Noam Bierstone and Michel F Côté on percussion with Côté adding electronics to her musical repertoire, and all of the musicians mentioned sing and manipulate objects in addition to playing their primary instruments. The result of Joane Hétu’s musical genre is somewhat ethereal. Fair to say, it refuses categorization.

The group opens with a piece entitled, Elle n’a pas de mot that translate to “She Has no Words.” It sounds like what I would imagine the universe to sound like. Mysterious humming, that hangs in space like clouds. An instrument that sounds like a flute, dances across the arrangement, produces a ringing in my ears that is pleasant and captivating. Her press package explains that ‘whirly tubes’ were used to create these soundscapes. These are ribbed hoses that are spun professionally above or beside the players.

The next composition features vocalist Sarah Albu to the forefront to interact with the percussionist. She presents a semi-operatic performance that is quite rhythmic, singing in a language other than English. I’m assuming it is French, since the album title and song titles are all in French. This arrangement is very percussive, even the vocals.

The next song titled Elle n’est pas un animal translates to “She is not an animal.” There are several vocals used on this song, including male and female singers, vocal harmony and individual voices. Whistle sounds, spoken word and percussion creates a cacophony of moods. There is very little music during this experimental track.

A composition Joane Hétu calls Un idéal uses voices once again with percussion to create a mood. Using a texture of voices with sharp instrumental punctuations, it almost feels like sound effects instead of a song. Then comes Avoir le motton, a composition from 2001 that features Hétu’s saxophone intertwining with Emilie Fortin’s trumpet talents. Human gasps and coughs enter the production unexpectedly, including a somewhat grotesque vocal solo. It’s quite experimental.

This musical experience demands an acquired taste. It’s both experimental and avant-garde. Her original music explodes into the universe, blending feminist discourse, spoken word and phonetic delirium into her arrangements with unexpected and purposeful abandon.

Avec pareil état civil, on serait tenté à moins d’user de ce jeu de mots (dont elle doit pourtant être lasse): “Joane, qui es-tu?“. C’est qu’en dépit de ses quatre décennies et demie de carrière artistique, cette saxophoniste, vocaliste, improvisatrice et compositrice québecoise (bardée de prix dans son pays) n’est encore connue dans notre Hexagone que d’un cercle restreint d’initiés. Également à la tête du label de musiques expérimentales DAME et co-directrice de la maison de production SuperMusique, elle dirige aussi le quintette Castor et compagnie, et se produit en duo avec Jean Derome sous l’appellation Nous perçons les oreilles… Sur ce nouvel album (enregistré en concert à l’Édifice Wilder de Montréal, le 3 mai 2023), elle est accompagnée de Sarah Albu (voix), Émilie Fortin (trompette), Julie Houle (tuba), Luzio Altobelli (accordéon), Noam Bierstone (percussions), Michel F Côté (percussions, électronique), qui chantent et manipulent tous des objets divers et variés, en sus de leurs fonctions principales. Tout en revisitant trois de ses compositions antérieures (de 2001 à 2005), elle propose neuf nouvelles pièces, dont celle d’ouverture (la bien intitulée Elle n’a pas de mot), qui superpose un chant sans paroles à un chœur de “tubes tourbillonnants” (tuyaux cannelés tournant au-dessus ou à côté du musicien, et pirouettant au gré de la série harmonique). Avec Mot elle a, la chanteuse Sarah Albu s’adonne à diverses percussions, selon une scansion vocale tour à tour fervente et exubérante, ainsi qu’un rythme emprunté partiellement au Boléro de Ravel, tandis qu’avec ses bruitages et chants d’oiseaux, le ludique Elle n’est pas un animal (scindé en deux parties) rappelle les facéties de la Campagnie des Musiques à Ouïr. Sur Un idéal (de 2003), Avoir le motton (de 2001) et Jojo dit, le chant se fait essentiellement rythmique, au fil d’une partition ponctuée d’interjections vocales et instrumentales abruptes. Sur Vivante (2005), Joane prend le lead pour énumérer ses propres vicissitudes organiques sur fond de percussions domestiques. Entamé en canon romain, Elle a dit oui dérape bientôt en épellation émaillée de jappements et de percussions sur récipients plastiques, avant que la plage titulaire ne révèle sa simple fonction d’interlude (caquètements aviaires, miaulements et hennissements à l’appui). Ce périple s’achève avec le rêveur Elle qui est-elle?, qu’introduit une trompette bientôt rejointe par le tuba et l’accordéon, pour former une sorte de fanfare circassienne mélancolique. Un album évoquant autant le théâtre de Zouc, Ariane Mnouchkine et Jérôme Deschamps que l’esprit pataphysique d’Albert Marcœur et du Gong des débuts. Pisse-froids ultra-rationalistes s’abstenir.

Joane Hétu has spent more than four decades carving out her territory in Montréal’s experimental music scene. The composer, saxophonist, and vocalist emerged in the early 1980s as a founding member of avant-pop groups like Wondeur Brass, Justine, and Les Poules, where she helped forge a distinctly Québécois interpretation of contemporary music. Her approach merged the pluralist ethos of New York’s downtown scene with European progressive sensibilities, all while maintaining roots in Quebec’s cultural soil.

Since those formative years, Hétu has become one of Canada’s most important figures in musique actuelle. She co-founded SuperMusique in 1980 and has served as its artistic co-director since 1998, nurturing generations of experimental musicians through her commitment to inter-generational collaboration. Her own compositional work spans everything from intimate vocal pieces to large ensemble works, consistently exploring the space between composition and improvisation. As founder and longtime president of the DAME record label, she has also played a crucial curatorial role in documenting Canadian experimental music for over three decades.

Her latest release, Elle a son mot à dire, captures Hétu leading Ensemble SuperMusique through thirteen of her pieces—most of them new compositions alongside select revisited works from earlier periods. The album demonstrates her continued resistance to artistic pigeon-holing, moving fluidly between ambient textures, quasi-operatic vocal explorations, and abstract instrumental dialogues. At sixty-six, Hétu remains as committed as ever to challenging listeners while maintaining the deep collaborative relationships that have defined her artistic practice.

This interview is translated from the original French.

Lawrence Peryer: In your work with Wondeur Brass, Justine, and Les Poules in the 1980s, you helped create a distinctly Québécois interpretation of experimental music by merging downtown NYC aesthetics with European prog sensibilities. What was that like?

Joane Hétu: I was very young, in my twenties, and this fusion happened quite instinctively, without real premeditation. We were connected to the New York scene — Zeena Parkins, Ikue Mori, and Fred Frith — and through the Recommended Records network, notably with Chris Cutler. With Danielle Palardy Roger and Diane Labrosse, we founded the SuperMusique organization in 1980. In 1988, we organized a Festival of Innovative Women Musicians, entirely devoted to women’s groups working in avant-garde music.

Lawrence: What prompted your shift from avant-pop toward deeper exploration of improvisation and composition? And how has the Montréal experimental music scene changed over these four decades?

Joane: Improvisation imposed itself on my approach in the early 1990s. In 1992, Jean Derome and I founded Nous perçons les oreilles, a group exploring both song and radical improvisation. But I never stopped writing or composing. These practices have always coexisted in my musical universe, in a constant state of interaction.

In forty years, the new music scene — contemporary, experimental, or whatever term one prefers — has undergone enormous changes. Today, it brings together artists from the ages of twenty to seventy and unfolds in numerous venues, both in Montréal and in the regions. Despite significant challenges, particularly financial ones, I find it in good health. The audience is faithful, and new curious people venture into it regularly.

Lawrence: Your vocal work employs unconventional techniques alongside traditional instruments. How do you approach the voice as an instrument, and how does this connect to your work with the noise choir Joker?

Joane: I never learned to sing. My influences include artists such as Tenko, Phil Minton, Jaap Blonk, and Paul Dutton. I learned the saxophone, but I always kept my own way of playing it. I have a deep love for the voice and its noise-making potential. It’s visceral and fundamental to me.

What pleases me is this cohabitation between writing and improvisation, the freedom offered to interpreters, and their active engagement in creation. This applies to both my solo work and collective projects, such as Joker.

Lawrence: In pieces like Elle n’est pas un animal and Mot elle a, there’s a fascinating interplay between structure and freedom. How do you balance composition with improvisation?

Joane: I adore this tension between composition and improvisation. I like to see them coexist, respond to each other. Graphic scores allow precisely this encounter. Elle n’est pas un animal is a good example: the piece rests on a clear concept, a guiding thread, while integrating random elements and suggested materials. It’s improvised but structured. I love it deeply; I was very moved while composing it.

In Mot elle a, the singer’s part is written, while the percussionist’s part is improvised from instructions. The piece remains flexible, malleable, depending on the interpretation. For now, I only have one recording, but I hope it will live through other recordings and interpretations. This is, moreover, one of the objectives of open scores: to encourage multiple and living interpretations.

Lawrence: You wear many hats—composer, performer, ensemble leader, label head. And in your work with Ensemble SuperMusique, you’ve consistently brought together musicians across generations. How do you handle these different roles, and what value do you find in these inter-generational situations?

Joane: I’m a person with multiple functions: artist, cultural worker, manager, choir director (Chorale Joker, founded in 2012), artistic co-director of Ensemble SuperMusique since 1998 with Danielle Palardy Roger. This is, in my view, a characteristic of contemporary music. The composer is often also a performer, improviser, ensemble leader, and manager. I like each of these roles, even if the manager role pleases me a bit less. This balance between functions nourishes me.

Ensemble SuperMusique’s mission is to welcome emerging artists, mid-career artists, and major figures alike. This intergenerational cohabitation is a great richness for us. It opens perspectives, stimulates listening, and provokes essential exchanges.

Lawrence: You’ve explored the concept of “territory” extensively, particularly in La femme territoire ou 21 fragments d’humus. Your winter trilogy also seems to have been a significant creative exploration. How do these thematic works function in your compositional practice?

Joane: La femme territoire ou 21 fragments d’humus is a very important work for me. In it, I take a position, as a woman, on my territory — intimate and collective. I doubted while writing it; I had trouble trusting myself. But today, I’m happy with the path traveled and with this work.

With my trilogy Musique d’hiver, I covered this season musically. I still love winter, but I no longer feel the need to translate it into music. Neither winter nor any other season, for that matter.

Lawrence: Elle a son mot à dire draws from compositions spanning over two decades. How do you see your older pieces in relation to your newest work?

Joane: I don’t yet have a global vision of my work. I respond to the call, to the impulse of the moment. I am still, fundamentally, the same composer. I have just as much affection for my pieces from the 1980s as I do for those from the 2000s. I try to keep them alive in me, to maintain them like one does with old plants.

Lawrence: Your work with DAME has helped document an important chapter of Canadian experimental music. What motivated you to take on this curatorial role, and how do you reflect on it now?

Joane: Good question. What pushed me to get into all that? I’ve always had a passion for sound recording. From 1985, I got involved in Ambiances Magnétiques, then DAME took over. After my daughter’s birth in 1990, I was looking for a certain stability, knowing that tours would be more difficult. Naively, I believed that having a record label would offer a form of security. It was quite the opposite. This enterprise cost me a lot in creative time. Looking back, it’s perhaps what I regret most: having carried it for so long, for thirty-three years.

Lawrence: How do you see the relationship between artistic innovation and audience accessibility in your work?

Joane: I believe the public has the capacity to welcome innovation. But it needs tools, which are becoming scarce: radio broadcasting, interviews, production support, and venues dedicated to new music. All of this would help contemporary music meet the open ears that exist — I’m certain of it.

For those unaware, born in 1958 in Montréal, where she still lives and works, Joane Hétu is a musician, composer, improviser, conductor, cultural worker and manager.

Winner of the prestigious Freddie Stone Award in 2006 for her involvement in Canadian creation music, Hétu wields her two instruments, voice and alto saxophone, combining the flexibility of one and the urgency of the other in a symbiosis that is uniquely hers. She directs the noise choir Joker, which she founded in 2012 and for which she created, among others, the works Où est-il donc ce rêve? (2014) and Langoureusengagée (2017).

She co-directs the Ensemble SuperMusique (ensemble of 6 to 20 musicians) with Danielle Palardy Roger since 1998 and thus propels the creation and interpretation of graphic scores as well as directional gestures in improvised music to the fore. Ardently passionate about contemporary and improvised music, she has been hosting the Mercredimusics series with Jean Derome and Lori Freedman since 2001.

In recent years, she has composed for the Ensemble SuperMusique, the Bozzini Quartet, the Now Orchestra, Quasar saxophone quartet and Instruments of Happiness. She forms, with Jean Derome, the magical duo Nous perçons les oreilles and she directs the quintet Castor et compagnie which is dedicated to lewd and loving songs.

Her latest release, Elle a son mot à dire, captures Hétu once again leading Ensemble SuperMusique through thirteen of her pieces — most of them new compositions alongside select revisited works from earlier periods.

Continuing to demonstrate her continued resistance to artistic pigeon-holing, moving fluidly between ambient textures and quasi-operatic vocal explorations (amongst others), the new album opens on the enchantingly ambient delights of Elle n’a pas de mot, the fervently captured Mot elle a and the atmospherically-charged Elle n’est pas un animal and then brings us the organic Un idéal, the fluctuating tones of Avoir le motton, and then we get the rhythmic Vivante.

Along next is the spatially effective Lumière and the short but sweet Chant à elle, and these are in turn backed seamlessly by the creatively thought-provoking Jojo dit, the hinged Elle n’est pas un animal, the veritably enrapturing Elle a dit oui, the set rounding out on another atmospheric, animalistic cut Elle a son mot à dire, closing on the languishing beauty within Elle qui est-elle?.

Canadian artist and composer Joane Hetu is out with the album Elle a son mot à dire, and this is a creation that resides smack right in the middle of the experimental and avantgarde universe as far as style and orientation is concerned. In many ways these are compositions that defies genre classification as such, where the approach, orientation and execution is rather more defining than the music itself. Expressive use of vocals is the most defining aspect throughout, from spoken worlds and ethereal floating vocals textures to several variations on more regular singing and on towards more expressive use of the voice for song as well as other vocal displays. With singular as well as plural use of voices and vocals. The music elements tend to be of a minimalist nature, referencing folk music, jazz and classical music to some degree or other. We do get some compositions where the role of the instruments are given more space and room though, with one display of what I’d describe as a more free form variety of jazz and the other, at the very end of the album, which to my mind feature a little bit of a French chanson feel combined with a more relaxed and romantic jazz expression. A production to seek out by those who are fond of music explored as a higher form of art, and then in particular when revolving around expressive minimalism and a more purebred avantgarde expression.