August 30, 2024

It's an understatement to say that in art I'm looking for a moment of extreme tension, a point of dissolution where the visible explodes, a tension on the verge of rupture. An open, dislocated, gaping temporality: like feeling itself, without which these forms would be uninhabited, unsupported. 

What kind of feeling are we talking about? The kind that would be hard to define, if not by the magma that takes hold of the human heart and swells it with all its inclinations, hopes, regrets and immense, disordered memory. 

It's me again yesterday, meditating and smoking on the wet benches of the little round square in Place de la Monnaie. The square deserted, before closing time: no tourists, no children, no old people, just the branches of these immense trees whose tops tower over the buildings, twice a century old. A call that seems forever unanswered, diluted in space and light. 

But in the midst of these existential vertigoes, in the midst of emptiness and its terrible intoxications, there is Music, which gives them shape and color, as nothing else in the world can. 

Music - as others have the poetry of words as their horizon - is the yardstick. This power to create a space and several interlocking spaces, where all the stories and their intimate secrets seem to be told at the same time, this is the power, the abstract physics, the only the only lever capable of taking away everything, of expressing that point of blindness where the image itself dissolves - so unstable is the message.

Radio Mulot aka France Museau / Stream URL :
Description :  http://fieldmice.free.fr/mulot2.htm
Souscription : https://radiomulot.bandcamp.com