During the German occupation of France in 1940, Luc Bouquet's father was a member of the French resistance who also happened to be a drummer. He and an accordionist friend would stage dances in farmhouses or barns as a way to buoy spirits and incite further opposition. There is an old photo on the inside cover of this CD, showing a dapper gentleman with large silk scarf standing behind a very old drum kit and holding what might be maracas, but could just as easily be grenades. A fitting image I'd say. The music presented here is then a dedication from Bouquet to his father, a drum solo involving some extended techniques and lots of low-key musicality.

The solo, in four sections, is bookended by short, simple harmonica breathings, conjuring up echoes of the aforesaid accordion and cocking our ears. In between, Bouquet employs a number of different methods and/or implements in a slow and careful unfolding. Beginning with bowed cymbals whose overtones and metallic sheen are allowed to hover alone or in quiet conglomerates. Gradually the drum membranes are excited with mallets or brushes or what sounds like small flails. Fingertips and palms rub and tap, slowly evolving into considered polyrhythmic chunks. There's nothing really flashy or grand about this recital, just the slow casual excitation of a gorgeous sounding drum kit. Bouquet prompts us to attend to the grain of his chosen instruments, the hiss of hand on membrane, the ring of excited vessels. I think this endeavor gets back to the basic experience of listening, without any attendant ideation. A beautiful thing indeed.