Didier Durassier, master of the Breton bagpipe, plays for me on the seashore at, if memory serves the peninsula of Quiberon.
Tag Archives: Breton music
Thursday, May 1, 2014 — Rue de Kergallic
“Art is not freedom from discipline, but Disciplined Freedom.” — Edward Catich
I must tell you something of the people I’m staying with. Nothing I write could possibly convey the pleasure I experienced in meeting them.
Delphine Decloedt and Didier Durassier live in a little bungalo in Saint Barthélemy, on the quiet lane that leads to l’étan (the pond) de Kergallic. The house, true to medieval tradition, combines the functions of home and atelier, and opens onto a delightfully anarchic garden. Their children are intelligent, polite (well, little Arthur can be stubborn, sometimes!) and talented. Didier is well known in Breton music circles as a performer on biniou, veuse and bombarde, as a member of the band Penn Kazh, and as Brittany’s most accomplished craftsman-sculptor of traditional instruments. Delphine is a painter and calligrapher (Grand prix du prestige Européen des Arts et Belles Lettres, Commandeur de l’ordre de l’Etoile de l’Europe). When, I stepped into the house, Mélissande was playing some Satie on the piano. She came across as quiet, but not timid. Liam already has the “cool” of French cinema idols. Arthur is a reincarnation of Christopher Robin. Read more »
Monday, April 28, 2014 — Saint-Barthélemy & Lann Gouh
A fabulous night of music and conversation. An assortment of local musicians at the village pub called Sterenn Roz (The Rose Star). These “session trad” have been held here for at least a quarter century. Young and old, playing in different combinations throughout the evening. No stage, just a comfortable mix of musicians and clientele. People switching instruments, dropping in or dropping out of a song as the spirit moved them, glances exchanged between players who found a common groove. The Celtic way. There were accordions; guitars, bagpipes, and a couple of reed instruments resembling a medieval shawm which they called a bombarde. Call-and-response, knees and feet catching the tempo. The style of performance, the rhythms and melodies bore a strong resemblance to Canadian folk music (It’s no accident that the acknowledged regional heart of Canadian folk is Cape Breton, Nova Scotia). But the fiddle, the workhorse of Canadian music, played no part. So the effect was a bit weird to me, as if someone played bluegrass with no banjo. Read more »