I can still remember the little statue made of plaster that was sitting on my grandfather’s piano, and the smell of the old music sheets that were stored in his office.
It is a family tradition, a little bit like a draw that you open and then shut again.
From generation to generation and from hand to hand, the witness of this tradition is transmitted in the form of a musical instrument. I have chosen percussion.
I can still remember the Wednesday and Saturday afternoons.
Julien, my violonist grandfather and founder of the Hannut Music Academy, used to let me play on his piano at the end of the courses.
I was seven years old when my grandfather taught me my first chords.
For Eric, my father, it is the viola that has accompanied him for many years and took him from the Orchestra Philharmonic of Liege to Alain Bashung, William Sheller and Robert Wyatt.
At the heart of my childhood, he transmitted to me his love for the fusion of classical and modern sounds, the audacity of mixing different kinds, and his thirst for mixing different styles.
As for me, well beyond this duty of remembering and of inheritance, I always seek for the magic of the pure and founding sound of our first stages in life, this music played on the piano that will always remain engraved in my heart.
I am seeking for this childhood, the innocence of a purified melody.