Over the past fifteen years or so, Montréal composer and improvisor Jean Derome has built a body of work that expresses a singular musical vision that pushes out in many directions — for small, mid-sized, and large ensembles; for theatre, film, dance, and any other manner of collaboration. Derome is game for all of them. Two recent releases on the excellent cooperative label Ambiances magnétiques, features headfuls of musical ideas for three very different groups under similarly diverse circumstances. That is to say, there is unity to the entirety of Derome’s projects, but they are madly each their own and beautifully so. Je me souviens is not so much a large-ensemble work as one for big band. Thirteen players have a ball playing through a cycle of Derome’s knock-offs of swing, doo-wop, and big-band jazz, all laced with a characteristic sense of humour—note the front line of Martin Tétreault’s scatting turntable and a section for three jews-harps. This work is dedicated to the memory of French experimental writer Georges Perec, whose comically enigmatic inventions on the page are well remembered by the composer and arranger with a sympathetically inventive will to swing. Listen to Je me souviens, read Perec, and invent your own from there. There is an additional bonus band appended to the big band on this disc, namely a sextet of Québec improvisors playing up their differences against a Belgian side in what is called “17 jeux variés pour 12 improvisateurs”. There are furious moments of creation captured in moments of intense—and again, very humourous—sound effecting. The tunes are live collaborations, but evoke the image of a tape splicing bender from a bottomless source. They do this music boldly and all game for the game. La Bête—The Beast Within is original music commissioned from Jean Derome by the Montréal dance company O Vertigo. It’s a more careful work than Perec hommage. More impressive, too, I think, in the way that it stands back from the focus of the project (the choreography, as opposed to the memory of Perec or seventeen games) as a mature and highly original major work. It is no less chaotic than the other, yet Derome handles the content (I have not seen the O Vertigo production) with an openness and intensity that is a dance itself. Nine musicians are enlisted for La Bête, among them René Lussier, Diane Labrosse, Pierre Tanguay, and extra-specially Joane Hétu, doing vocal acrobatics. She tears into the centre of the action here amid textures of reeds, flutes, and piano, and holds the centre as lead instrumentalist—no lyrics, just new ideas pouring out of them all from Derome on down. I recommend this disc highly, and though you’ll wish you had been able to take in the entire experience of La Bête—The Beast Within, the CD stands with Jean Derome’s best works of any size.
