Bernard Parmegiani
Lac Noir / La Serpente 1992
Sub Rosa
/
2025
Includes Instant Download
CD
14.99
SR464CD
Pre-Order: Available on / around May 9th 2025
LP
19.99
SR464V
Gatefold sleeve, liner notes and photos
Pre-Order: Available on / around May 9th 2025
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Tracklist
1La Traversée 7:48
2La Voix 7:48
3Nature mêlée 1 3:50
4Nature mêlée 2 3:41
5Le Cercle 2:40
6Tsiganie 6:34
7Rouge et blanc 2:01
8Marchand de cloches 5:02
9La Serpente 11:01

»Lac Noir / La Serpente« is part of Emmanuel Raquin-Lorenzi's »Lac Noir«, a composite work inspired by a serpentine female creature or ›snake-woman‹ that he saw in Transylvania in 1976, with a total of 33 pieces using various media, 24 by himself and 9 by other artists. All the materials used in »Lac Noir« were gathered on the land of the snake-woman between 1990 and 1992. The first coordinated broadcast ran from June to October 2019, like a theatrical display of media.

At the end of May 1992, in Provence, in his Summer studio not far from the Montagne Sainte-Victoire, Bernard Parmegiani played me the first musical moments he had worked on from the sounds he and Christian Zanési had collected in Negreni in October 1990. A few days after this listening session, on 4th June, I wrote him a letter. I didn't mean to take control of what was to become the ninth movement of his composition, but to share with him some of the resonances I had heard in what he had composed, which mingled with my dreams and memories of the Transylvanian snake-woman, and outlined possible concordances with the other pieces underway for »Lac Noir«.

In the midst of the garish chaos of the fair and its spectacular stunts, there could spread out - still, silent eye of the cyclone - the long waters of a lake. Calm waters. Patches cool but sensitive as skin. Between the waters there flows and ripples, there shows up and dives again a snake-woman born of the still waters. A sweet, good serpent whose song - strange and melodious, sensual, yet already tinged, as if bitten by the black depths, with bitterness; that of prescience, shading it with melancholy - is her very undulation, the rings of which appear, together or in turn, the way translucent veins overlap, slither over one another in a moving braid of metamorphoses.

Extracts from notes by E. Raquin-Lorenzi