Arbiter Records 144

Madeleine de Valmalète: Rediscovered master

  • In 2014 this CD was remastered for downloading that contains an additional bonus track.
  • Released Nov 23, 2017
  • $16.98
  • On iTunes
  • On Amazon

Track List

awarded the Diapason d’ Or.

A youthful energy and insight in Madeleine de Valmalete (1899-1999) startles in these recordings of Ravel, hers being the first ever of his Tombeau de Couperin (1928), possibly unsurpassed to this day. Playing into her nineties, she is equally sharp and alluring. A master among French pianists, de Valmalete opens new terrain both as visionary and an observer. Along with her complete 1928 recordings (made at age 29) we offer private documents from later years and a full text on her long life.

  1. Mozart Fantasia in D minor, K. 397
  2. Ravel Le Tombeau de Couperin: Prelude
  3. Ravel Le Tombeau de Couperin: Fugue
  4. Ravel Le Tombeau de Couperin: Forlane
  5. Ravel Le Tombeau de Couperin: Rigaudon
  6. Ravel Le Tombeau de Couperin: Menuet
  7. Ravel Le Tombeau de Couperin: Toccata
  8. Alabieff-Liszt L' Alouette
  9. Mussorgsky Gopak
  10. Prokofiev Love of Three Oranges: March
  11. Rachmaninoff Barcarolle op. 10 no.3
  12. Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody no. 11
  13. Debussy Preludes Book II: Feux d' artifice
  14. Falla Ritual Fire Dance
  15. Ravel Jeux d' eau
  16. Fauré Nocturne in E flat, op. 36
  17. Fauré Impromptu in F minor, op. 31
  18. Mozart Sonata in D, K. 576: I
  19. Mozart Sonata in D, K. 576: II
  20. Mozart Sonata in D, K. 576: III
  21. bonus download track: Liszt Au bord dune source

This CD allows us to discover one of the 20th century’s most unjustly forgotten European musicians.

In her youth, Madeleine de Valmalète had a dazzling performing career across Europe, was admired as a virtuoso prodigy by Camille Saint-Saëns and Charles-Marie Widor and later as a mature artist by Maurice Ravel and Alfred Cortot; she performed concertos conducted by Paul Paray, André Messager, Charles Munch, Arturo Toscanini, and Wilhelm Furtwängler. She toured with the singers Ninon Vallin, Lotte Lehmann and lived for an entire century while remaining extraordinarily vigorous. Why do histories of performance neglect Madeleine de Valmalète?

Perhaps because she never toured America, cared little for personal renown, and made few recordings.
Madeleine de Valmalète was born in 1899, with the rank of marquise, into an aristocratic French family (Tr. Note: Although the French Revolution officially abolished such titles, a marquise is a French noblewoman ranking below a duchess and above a countess. In England, the equivalent title is marchioness.)

As a young student, she entered the piano class of Isidor Philipp at the Paris Conservatoire. Philipp, a noted interpreter of the music of Franz Liszt, focused on developing virtuoso technique through total control of interpretive nuance and sonorities. Madeleine also studied with Joseph Morpain, who taught Clara Haskil among others. Like Haskil, Madeleine would always feel great affection for Morpain, whom she designated as her “Maître.”

At age fourteen, she handily earned a first prize degree at the prestigious Conservatoire. Her diploma was personally presented by Gabriel Fauré, the school’s director. Despite her astonishing musical maturity, Madeleine still retained a child-like spontaneity. A journalist who interviewed her at this time reported that she disarmingly jumped up to greet him with a hug, causing him to abandon the questions he had prepared.

World War I soon broke out, effecting all of Europe: Madeleine’s brother was drafted, and her father lost his source of income. Her mother, a painter of considerable talent, could no longer live by selling her art. To help the family income, Madeleine was obliged to give piano lessons. This sort of adult responsibility assumed at a young age tested her stubborn personality which, combined with rare energy, infused her performances.

By this time she was playing alongside established musicians in benefit concerts for victims of the Great War. Critics praised her varied artistry, passionate temperament, and staggering technique. Saint-Saëns wrote to her to praise her rendition of his “Danse macabre,” and she soon would have the opportunity to play for Ferruccio Busoni. As her career developed, she often gave local premieres like the first Monte Carlo performance (1916) of Edward MacDowell’s Piano Concerto No. 2. By the war’s end she was truly independent, and forthrightly became the second Frenchwoman ever to earn a driver’s license, yet still lived with her much-respected mother, whose constant presence may have discouraged potential suitors.

Madeleine was a glowing presence, short and svelte. With wheat-colored blond hair and steel-blue eyes, her expression was intelligent and focused, especially when performing at the keyboard. Her manner was always simple and direct; her intense smile was disarming. She was a force of nature; an athlete who was always swimming and cycling, she never felt under the weather, always up for a fun outing or an evening at the theatre, which she adored. She retained this infectious liveliness into extreme old age. Never a slanderer, her frank way of speaking could sometimes seem coarse and occasionally put people off: it also made her a feared teacher, despite her real generosity.

Her youth and brilliant talent drew invitations to concert series in Geneva, Rome, Lisbon, Vienna, Budapest, and The Hague. Reviews were enthusiastic, and in 1929 Paris invited her as soloist in no fewer than four orchestral concerts conducted by Paul Paray and Gabriel Pierné. The contacts she made in the 1920s Paris music world helped her brother when he launched the Marcel de Valmalète concert agency, which eventually represented all the great performers of the day. The prestigious “Revue Musicale,” in a 1925 issue honoring Maurice Ravel, printed an advertisement with a list of performers represented by the Valmalète agency. Alongside the pianists José Iturbi, Arthur Rubinstein, and the violinist Paul Kochanski, Madeleine de Valmalète is mentioned both as piano soloist and member of the Trio de Paris, a group of three women musicians. The others in the group were the violinist Yvonne Astruc and the cellist Marguerite Caponsacchi.

In 1928, Madeleine recorded for Polydor in Berlin what are the earliest selections on the present CD. The program, highly original, includes rather modern works for the time, such as music by Ravel, Falla, and Prokofiev. Moreover, her playing strikingly unites poetry and virtuosity, two seemingly incompatible virtues. Madeleine combines rhythmic power with a remarkably developed art of phrasing, resolution and delicacy, all enhanced by a surprisingly nuanced palette. Her playing draws forth the phrases without affectation, making extreme pianissimi speak, and is never harsh, even in the most violent fortes.

Her very pure, deeply personal style reaches what is essential without any narcissism. She manages to emphasize everything that adds contrast, interaction, and life to the music through an innate sense of accentuation and a quasi-masculine energy that drives her onward. Just listen to her noble version of Rachmaninoff’s “Barcarolle,” full of sorrow and seeming to glow with mysteriously enchanted fireflies. In her hands Debussy’s “Feux d’Artifice” is visionary, and so modern!

Madeleine’s hands were small but powerful, her compact fingers ending in little fleshy pads. An extremely varied technique owed as much to nature’s gifts as to preparatory work, and seems to embody the expression, “hand of iron, arm of velvet.” Her fingerings were fearless and often spectacular; she would shift her entire hand to reach a low note, or emphasize a high note on a black key by striking it with her thumb. With a shrug of her shoulders, she drew rounded sonorities from singing notes and chords. Valmalète spent a lot of time thinking about music, but not in any conceptualized way, and therefore always taught by using straightforward, tangible ideas, rather than theory.
A vast repertoire began with the French harpsichord school, to which she would later devote a recording, praised by György Cziffra in a letter to Madeleine. She also played modern composers like Stravinsky, Prokofiev, Milhaud (his Piano Concerto No. 1) while of course not forgetting Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, the Romantics, Albéniz, etc. Unfortunately she only recorded a small number of these composers.
She cultivated prestigious friendships with Queen Elisabeth of Belgium and Maurice Ravel, but the gossip of Parisian salons and careerist intrigues were foreign to her. In 1926, this aspect of her personality along with a passion for the South of France and the Mediterranean, as discovered during her first concert tours, made her decide to move to Marseilles. She relocated there, still in the company of her mother, and opened a music school.

Being in Marseilles, where she lived for the next 23 years, did not hamper her career much, despite the upheavals of World War II and the Nazi Occupation. Only in 1949, at age fifty, did she finally move back to Paris. There Alfred Cortot, who recognized her talents as a musician and pedagogue, invited her to teach at the Ecole Normale de Musique, which he founded.

The same year she married Pierre Delanoy, a charming dress designer, making a contrasting couple. The fiftyish newlyweds hunted for a home where they could both pursue their professional lives. Soon they became victims of a swindle that deprived them of their life savings, compelling them to share a modest studio apartment with a musicologist friend. Eventually, income from concert revenues made it possible for the couple to move to a large apartment near the Paris Opéra, its rooms were alternately used for fittings by Pierre’s elegant customers and practice sessions by Madeleine’s many students.

Thus Madeleine de Valmalète continued her double activity as teacher and concert soloist, with tours as far away as North Africa and the Middle East, the Baltic States and Finland. (In the latter, she once gave a recital in an igloo.)
She founded a competition for young amateur pianists and presided over its yearly sessions in France’s principal cities for almost four decades.

From 1961 to 1974, she taught at the Grenoble Conservatory where her students had the fortune to work with a performer who had set aside all personal ambition. Although she no longer traveled abroad much, Valmalète continued playing piano recitals for her own pleasure, even after she retired to her beloved Marseilles. She and her husband hosted students and friends, as they loved to be surrounded by young people and always kept the future in mind.

In 1975, EMI France offered her the opportunity to record Chopin’s “Ballades,” with splendid results which nevertheless were not officially released. She still performed occasionally in France. Now over 80 years old, she gave a few recitals at the Salle Gaveau in Paris, playing Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor and the complete 24 Etudes of Chopin, among other repertory. Even though she never cared much for recording studios, she was careful to leave behind a musical testament in the form of private recordings. Of iffy technical quality and made in spartan conditions, they fall short of giving a true picture of her performing energy in the concert hall.

In 1992, despite stiffness in her left shoulder, she still wanted to “treat herself to some Mozart” as she said, so we recorded her at the Grenoble Conservatory where she had so often performed. The digital recordings include four Mozart piano sonatas and Mozart’s Fantasy in D minor, K. 397. The burden of her 93 years seemed to dissolve as soon as she sat down at the piano.

Although these performances may be impregnated with the heritage of the Romantic pianism, I believe that they transcend schools of interpretation and stylistic questions. They offer an all-too-brief glimpse into her own musical world, marked by a sort of sublimated childlike grace, spiritual innocence, and intensity. But then, playing the piano can be likened to those Tibetan monks who painstakingly sculpt evanescent statues out of yak butter. Like Tibetan monks, pianists must begin again every morning to communicate to those who know how to listen. They must live each day ­ however fleeting — to the fullest. This may be the price for men and women to truly advance.

-Eric Ferrand-N’Kaoua
translation: Benjamin Ivry

The French pianist Eric Ferrand-N’Kaoua, born in 1963, began working with Madeleine de Valmalète at the age of 7. He received from her his first ‘chocs musicaux’ in listening to her play on stage the 24 Etudes of Chopin, Schumann, Liszt and Fauré among others. A Premier Prix du Conservatoire de Paris was received at a young age and an international career began in Japan in his eighteenth year. A loving admiration for his first maître has never abated, as he very quickly began to collect her pirated recordings. (Efnk@ujf-grenoble.fr)

 


 

I met Madeleine de Valmalète for the first time in 1946 in Ankara, Turkey. I must have been five years old, and was then studying with Mithat Fenmen who had been a pupil of Nadia Boulanger and Alfred Cortot in Paris in the 1930s. Mr. Fenmen and Mme de Valmalète had been together at the Ecole Normale de Musique founded by Cortot.

At the time, I was playing all the music I heard by ear. Mithat Fenmen was trying to teach me in a most clever and intelligent way how to read notes, but I could not understand the usefulness of deciphering these strange signs which reminded me of sparrows on electrical wires: it was so easy to learn everything by heart once one heard it played !!! So, I played the pieces I knew for Mme de Valmalète and was totally charmed by her refined ways and her elegance. I remember the lovely works by the French claveçin composers Couperin and Rameau that she performed in her Ankara recital. [information about Idil Biret’s childhood days when she met Mme de Valmalète in Ankara, from her mother’s memoirs, are on the website www.idilbiret.org.]

At age seven I went to Paris with my parents when the Turkish Parliament passed a special to law to enable my studies abroad. My parents had sympathised with Mme. de Valmalète and we often went to her home and she came to ours. One day she came to us again for tea. As usual I played for her. Then she sat at the piano and started to play the most beautiful music I had ever heard which I learnt was Brahms: the Intermezzo op. 117, no. 1. Afterwards she played another Brahms work (either the Intermezzo op. 118, no. 6 or Capriccio op. 76, no. 2). Thanks to her beautiful playing, I had discovered this unique music which was going to play a very important part in my life. [Biret recorded the complete works for piano solo and with orchestra of Brahms in the 1990s and also performed the complete solo piano works in a series of five recitals in Germany during the Brahms Centennial in 1997.] Mme de Valmalète was a pioneer. In the early 1950s it was nearly impossible to hear Brahms works performed in France. His style was then considered heavy handed, academic and too Germanic. Next to Schumann Brahms was simply non-existing! Mme de Valmalète advised my parents to buy the recordings of Brahms piano works and concertos as I seemed to be so taken by this music. Soon I was listening to the 2nd piano concerto in the masterful version by Horowitz and Toscanini and memorising the whole concerto ­ both the piano and orchestra parts ­ including the breaks that occurred between the changes of the 78 rpm discs ( I used to stop playing where the breaks came). I played it to Mme de Valmalète to her amazement next time I met her.

Every year, Mme de Valmalète gave a recital in Paris at Salle Gaveau. Her distinguished playing, the lovely sound she produced from the piano, her musical intelligence were highly inspiring for the little girl I was then. One day she came accompanied by a delightful gentleman who was Mr. Delanoy, her husband. I was very fond of both of them. Mr. Delanoy was a fashion designer with impeccable taste. I remember the lovely gowns, evening dresses that I saw during the presentations of his collections. They had an elegant flat near or on the Boulevard de la Madeleine (Rue des Capucines probably).

Mme de Valmalète always gave me her full support. In the difficult years at the Conservatoire and the strict musical upbringing of Nadia Boulanger, she would encourage me to remain true to myself. She knew the dangers of losing the inspiration and that too much knowledge could often endanger the profound originality of a being.

Idil Biret

 

Madeleine de Valmalète
 1899-1999

Ce disque invite à la découverte d’une des artistes européennes les plus injustement oubliées du XXème siècle.
Est-il donc possible d’avoir entamé très jeune une carrière fulgurante en France et en Europe, d’avoir été admirée de Saint-Saëns et Widor comme jeune virtuose prodige, puis de Ravel et Cortot comme artiste confirmée, d’avoir joué sous la direction de Paul Paray, Messager, Charles Münch, Toscanini et Furtwängler, fait des tournées avec Ninon Vallin et Lotte Lehmann, enfin d’avoir vécu assez longtemps pour couvrir presque entièrement le siècle tout en conservant une vigueur extraordinaire, sans que l’histoire de l’interprétation ne s’en souvienne?
Oui, si l’on n’a jamais traversé l’Atlantique, si l’on s’est peu souciée de gloire personnelle et surtout si l’on a si peu enregistré.

Issue d’une famille d’aristocrates français -elle était marquise-, Madeleine de Valmalète, née en 1899, entre très jeune au Conservatoire de Paris où elle travaille avec Joseph Morpain et Isidore Philipp. Si ce dernier, grand interprète de Liszt, insiste sur le développement d’une technique de virtuose basée sur le contrôle de la sonorité et des nuances, elle gardera toujours pour Morpain, comme Clara Haskil qui fut aussi son élève, un grand attachement, et c’est lui qu’elle appelait son Maître. La jeune étudiante du Conservatoire remporte à 14 ans un brillant Premier Prix remis par Gabriel Fauré, alors directeur de la prestigieuse école. En dépit de son étonnante maturité musicale, Madeleine a encore la spontanéité de l’enfance et un journaliste venu l’interviewer raconte qu’elle lui sauta au cou de manière si charmante que, troublé, il avait renoncé à ses questions.

Mais bientôt, la première guerre mondiale éclate et fait basculer sa vie. Son frère est mobilisé, son père privé de sa source de revenus. Sa mère, une artiste peintre de grand talent, ne peut probablement pas vivre de son art. Pour subvenir aux besoins de sa famille, l’adolescente se voit dans l’obligation de donner des leçons. Ces responsabilités d’adulte, qu’elle assume à un si jeune âge, mettent à l’épreuve un caractère volontaire, une énergie peu commune d’ailleurs reflétés par son jeu. Tandis que sa carrière se développe, comme en attestent les concertos qu’elle joue dès 1916, parfois en première audition comme celui de Malcolm Mac-Dowell, elle devient après-guerre une jeune femme autonome, qui n’hésitera pas, la deuxième en France, à passer son permis de conduire. Elle vit pourtant toujours avec sa mère, qu’elle respecte infiniment, mais dont la présence à ses côtés éloigne peut- être d’éventuels prétendants…

Bien qu’assez petite et mince, elle a pourtant une présence rayonnante. Blonde comme les blés, elle a un regard bleu d’acier, un visage intelligent et concentré, surtout lorsqu’il s’agit de musique, vers laquelle tout son esprit est tourné. Elle est toujours simple et directe. C’est aussi une force de la nature, jamais malade, toujours d’accord pour voyager ou aller au spectacle-elle adore le théâtre-, et elle gardera cet entrain communicatif jusqu’à un âge très avancé. Elle n’est jamais médisante, mais son franc-parler et même une certaine rudesse, qui en font un professeur redouté et pas très patient, ne lui attirent pas que des amis.

Son talent éclatant et sa jeunesse lui ouvrent heureusement les portes de nombreuses sociétés de concerts, à Genève, Rome, La Haye, Lisbonne, Vienne, Budapest, les pays Baltesles critiques sont enthousiastes, et Paris l’honore tout particulièrement en 1929 puisqu’elle s’y produit quatre fois cette année-là avec orchestre, sous la direction de Paul Paray et de Gabriel Pierné. 
Les relations qu’elle a nouées dans le monde musical parisien des années 20, où elle est donc célèbre, lui permettent d’aider son frère à créer le bureau de concerts Marcel de Valmalète, mandataire à Paris des plus grands artistes de l’époque. La prestigieuse Revue Musicale, dans un numéro de 1925 consacré à Ravel, comporte une publicité mentionnant les interprètes représentés par le bureau ; aux côtés de José Iturbi, Artur Rubinstein et Paul Kochanski, Madeleine de Valmalète figure à la fois comme soliste et comme pianiste du Trio de Paris, une formation exclusivement féminine dont la violoniste était Yvonne Astruc et la violoncelliste Marguerite Caponsacchi.

C’est aussi en 1929 qu’elle enregistre à Berlin, chez Polydor, les plus anciennes sélections de cette édition restaurée.
Outre l’originalité du programme, comportant nombre d’uvres modernes pour l’époque comme celles de Ravel, (qu’elle rencontra à plusieurs reprises), de Falla ou Prokofiev, on est frappé par les qualités que l’on aurait crues incompatibles d’un jeu aussi virtuose que poétique, alliant force rythmique et art du phrasé, fermeté et délicatesse, servi par une palette de nuances surprenante. Elle respire largement, dessine les phrases sans mièvrerie, fait parler les pianissimi extrêmes, ne durcit jamais les forte même les plus violents.
Son style très pur mais profondément personnel va à l’essentiel sans narcissisme. Elle souligne tout ce qui donne du contraste et de la vie, grâce à un sens inné de l’accentuation et à une énergie presque virile qui la porte toujours vers l’avant. Mais écoutez plutôt cette Barcarolle de Rachmaninoff, noble, douloureuse et comme éclairée de mystérieuses lucioles magiques, ou ces Feux d’artifice de Debussy visionnaires!

Sa main était petite mais puissante, avec des doigts de longueur presque égale terminés par de vrais petits coussinets. Sa technique devait autant à la nature qu’au travail et mettait merveilleusement en uvre le célèbre adage « main de fer et bras de velours ». Elle mettait souvent des doigtés spectaculaires, déplaçant toute la main d’un coup pour attraper une basse ou accentuer une note aigüe avec le pouce, donnait la pleine sonorité des accords depuis l’épaule. Elle pensait beaucoup à la musique, mais pas d’une manière conceptuelle et n’enseignait d’ailleurs aucune théorie, seulement quelques principes.

Son vaste répertoire s’étendait des clavecinistes français, auxquels elle consacra plus tard un enregistrement pour lequel Gyorgy Cziffra lui adressera une lettre admirative, aux auteurs modernes comme Stravinsky, Prokofiev, Honegger, Milhaud (1er Concerto), en passant bien sûr par Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, les romantiques, Albéniz elle n’en a malheureusement enregistré qu’une très faible partie.

Les bavardages des salons parisiens et les intrigues carriéristes étaient totalement étrangers à sa nature. Ce trait de caractère, allié à une passion pour le Midi de la France et la Méditerranée découverts lors de ses premières tournées, l’incitent à s’installer à Marseille en 1926, toujours accompagnée de sa mère, et à y fonder une école de musique. 
Elle y restera basée vingt-trois ans, sans que sa carrière en souffre trop, et passe là les années de guerre et d’occupation. Ce n’est qu’en 1949, âgée de cinquante ans, qu’elle revient s’installer à Paris. Alfred Cortot, par une lettre pleine d’éloges pour elle, l’invite à se joindre aux professeurs de l’Ecole Normale de Musique dont il est le fondateur.
C’est aussi l’année de son mariage avec Pierre Delanoy, couturier et homme charmant, avec qui elle compose un couple contrasté mais au fond complémentaire. A leur installation, une escroquerie financière leur fait perdre tous leurs avoirs et les jeunes mariés quinquagénaires doivent partager un petit appartement avec un de leurs amis, le musicologue Robert Bernard. La musique reste au centre de la vie de Madeleine, mais elle doit aussi redevenir un gagne-pain…
Elle continue donc à mener une double activité de professeur et de concertiste, faisant de nombreuses tournées en Afrique du Nord et au Moyen-Orient. Elle crée un concours dédié aux jeunes amateurs dont elle présidera les sessions annuelles dans les principales villes de France pendant près de 40 ans.
De 1961 à 1974, elle enseigne au Conservatoire de Grenoble, où ses élèves ont la chance de travailler avec une artiste ayant abandonné toute ambition personnelle. Elle ne voyage plus à l’étranger mais continue à jouer pour son plaisir, même après qu’elle se soit retirée dans son cher Marseille. Elle et son mari reçoivent beaucoup, élèves et amis, car ils aiment s’entourer de jeunesse et pensent toujours à l’avenir.

EMI lui offre en 1975 la réalisation d’un disque des Ballades de Chopin, splendide mais jamais distribué dans le commerce. Elle se produit encore en France et donnera quelques récitals salle Gaveau à Paris, à plus de 80 ans, avec la sonate de Liszt ou les 24 Etudes de Chopin…
Bien qu’elle n’ait jamais beaucoup aimé les studios d’enregistrement, elle est soucieuse de laisser un testament musical et devra produire elle-même des disques. Réalisés dans des conditions techniques hasardeuses et sans aucun confort pour elle, ils sont souvent loin de refléter l’énergie dont elle pouvait faire preuve sur scène. 
En 1992, souffrant pourtant d’une épaule et traitée à son insu pour un syndrome parkinsonien, elle souhaite encore, comme elle le dit, « se régaler avec Mozart » et nous enregistrons pour elle en digital, au Conservatoire de Grenoble où elle s’était si souvent produite, quatre Sonates et la Fantaisie en ré mineur. Le poids de ses 93 ans semble s’évanouir lorsqu’elle s’assied au piano…
Je crois que son interprétation, même imprégnée de l’héritage du piano romantique, est au-delà des écoles et des problèmes stylistiques. Elle crée son propre monde musical, avec un sorte de grâce enfantine sublimée dont nous n’avons là qu’un trop bref écho. Mais qu’importe, jouer du piano, c’est un peu comme pour les moines tibétains faire une statue de beurre chaque matin, il faut accepter de recommencer tous les jours, transmettre à ceux qui savent écouter et vivre pleinement le présent, si insaisissable. C’est peut-être à ce prix que les hommes progressent.

— Eric Ferrand-N’Kaoua

 

 

Le pianiste français Eric Ferrand-N’Kaoua, né en 1963, a travaillé avec Madeleine de Valmalète dès l’âge de 7 ans. Il reçoit d’elle ses premiers chocs musicaux en l’entendant jouer sur scène les 24 études de Chopin, Schumann, Liszt et Fauré entre autres. Un Premier Prix du Conservatoire de Paris obtenu très jeune et une carrière internationale commencée au Japon dès l’âge de 18 ans n’ont jamais émoussé son admiration affectueuse pour son premier maître, dont il a très tôt collectionné les enregistrements pirates.


Efnk@ujf-grenoble.fr