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When I was young, I realised I had a little artistic
talent. I wanted to be a sculptor or an illustrator. But my father said, "Both my
brother and brother-in-law are painters. There's only one word to describe the beginning
of their careers, and that's starvation. Every artist needs to pursue studies in a more
practical field first so he'll have something to fall back on. Finish school first, then
pursue your dream." |
Francois Baschet
"French Monument |
The world is supposedly a big place, but that's not so when you travel with a guitar. Everything is too small train compartments, taxis, cars at rush hour. That was a problem I wanted to solve before leaving. I knew a guitar was like a banjo. The banjo's sound is produced by a membrane stretched over a metal frame and it's the frame that's heavy and awkward. I needed to find a replacement and thought of an inflatable plastic balloon. The air was enough to keep the membrane taut while the balloon was light and could be deflated when travelling. The neck still had to be constructed of wood, but I hinged it so I could fold it in two and added a flat bridge to transmit the sound. When the balloon was deflated, I could pack the entire instrument in my suitcase and carrying it everywhere was easy. The inflatable guitar continued to serve me well once I returned to Paris. It allowed me to earn a living playing in the cabarets where I parodied the songs I'd learned in all the countries I'd been to. This was the extremely creative era of "the roaring 50s" in the Latin Quarter, when post-war Paris enjoyed an outburst of artistic activity similar to the 1920s described by Hemingway. I shared billing with other young performers, one of whom was a tall Belgian who also sang and accompanied himself on a guitar. His name was Jacques Brel. My inflatable guitar was a technical mystery. String instruments like the violin and cello have openings from which the sound issues. The plastic balloon had none. I sought the answer to this mystery. Since my life as a cabaret performer left my days free, I used the time to take sculpture courses and haunt the technical libraries to study acoustics. I learned that the 18th and 19th century experts had discovered a large number of acoustical phenomena that had only been applied to the saxophone and several electrical acoustic instruments so that 20th century music was being regularly played on 18th century instruments. It was like travelling by horse-drawn carriage in the era of air planes. My brother, Bernard, a great music lover, said to me, |
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"Since these acoustical phenomena have been classified,
why not apply them to your ideas for sculpture. " We devised our own system of
classification, knowing that every musical instrument is a combination of at least three
of the following elements: |
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On the other hand, the flute uses only three with the reed for vibration, the player's breath to maintain it and the holes to determine the pitch yet no means of amplification is necessary. By listing every instrument according to the four elements, we obtained a table of instruments similar to Mendelev's Table of Chemical Elements. To be thorough, we added a fifth column for resonators, that is accessories that move in synchronisation with the sound such as a bass viol's strings which vibrate to add their sympathetic echo without the musician touching them. |
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Once the table was
established, the rest was easy. We had already decided that metal had the best resonance.
All we needed to do from there was purchase supplies and assemble the instruments we'd
designed. We'd come up a myriad of possibilities feeling as if we'd stumbled on a miracle.
But before butting the first piece of metal, we took a little time to develop a
philosophy. I got help from an unexpected source when I encountered a charming, young
woman in a train compartment. She was reading a thick volume of Eckermann's conversations
with Goethe. I assured her Goethe was a particular passion of mine and she read me a
passage in which Eckermann asks, "How does one know that something is real,
valid?" Goethe responds, "If it produces something else."
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Aluminium Piano |
T h
e L i m i t a t i o n s o f A r t |
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A
N e w C o n c e p t i n I n s t r u m e n t s |
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"Are you waiting to play
something?" |
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An association
was formed and we began to get contracts. But we needed to find a name. These were more
than either sculptures or instruments. We finally chose to call them the
"Lasry-Baschet Sound Structures," after deciding to designate the creations in
which sonority was the dominant feature "structures" and those in which the
aesthetic aspect dominated "sculptures" for our exhibitions in galleries and
museums. Our group was a success from the very start. Electronic music was still in its
infancy and our structures, with their resonators that produced long, mysterious tones,
were deemed "cosmic." It was the era of the launching of the first Russian
sputnik and every time a radio or television station wanted music for a science fiction
programme, they came to us. Our biggest thrill was being asked by Jean Cocteau to do the
music for his film, |
L
e t e s t a m e n t d ' O r p h e e. |
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He's
been very important to the Cristal's development, not only technically, but artistically,
having discovered its full range of possibilities from classical to contemporary music and
that the instrument not only has its place as a solo instrument, but, like all our
instruments, adapts perfectly to a symphony orchestra. He continues to work with Bernard
to improve the technical and acoustical performance of the Crystal, but the virtuosity he
has shown has attracted other musicians. Television and radio programmes, as well as movie
soundtracks, have made it famous and Michel's next venture is to create the first Crystal
School. |
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We took a certain risk when we
decided to stop concentrating on art aimed at the collector. But when we watch the
reaction of people as they discover our sound structures, as well as their own artistic
and personal potential, we know the risk was worth it. We are asked why we don't use
electronics. We think there is more poetry, more sincerity, in natural sounds. All natural
sounds -- bells, bird song, echoes among the mountains -- are connected to some
unconscious memory. |
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