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Raphelson, up on the hill

The French-speaking songwriter performed in a Lausanne park under the banner of Aux Confins de la Cité. A magical moment as we would like to see more

Raphelson, Aux confins de la Cité, Lausanne, July 8, 2020. - © Morgane Raposo / Festival de la Cité
Stephane Gobbo

Three months ago, morale was in the Charente, the semi-confinement was interminable.

The promise of a culturally empty summer seemed inescapable, the situation seemed hopeless.

Like Perrette dropping her jug ​​of milk, you could say goodbye to everything that makes summer salt.

But since three months is a long time, the situation has since changed.

The health measures still in force have prompted certain cultural players to reinvent themselves.

Two weeks ago, I went to Cully, where the Jazz Festival offered, in addition to a musical brunch, two outdoor concerts.

Just under 300 deckchairs surrounded a central stage, with the lake and terraced vineyard as the backdrop.

Suspended moments with the quartet of young guitarist Louis Matute then Christophe Calpini as an electro drummer, accompanied by an elegiac quartet sublimating the twilight.

This week, it is the Festival de la Cité which, after its cancellation, played phoenix to become Aux confins de la Cité, a series of artistic proposals scattered around the city, intended for small audiences and duly registered.

Wednesday evening, on a bucolic hill that I did not know when I grew up a mile and a half away, I found with unspeakable happiness Raphelson, an elegant songwriter discovered towards the end of the last millennium while he was working within Magicrays.

And admired at the Montreux Jazz 2007, when alongside Fauve - the equally classy Lausanne composer, and not the group of Parisian poseurs - he played with the Sinfonietta from Lausanne.

Melodic virtuosity

On his latest solo album, Fallen Idols , consisting of ten tracks that are like ten chapters of a diffuse narrative story, Raphelson shows rare melodic talent.

It is not for nothing, moreover, that the English producer John Parish is faithful to him, in the same way that he accompanies for a long time PJ Harvey.

So Raphelson went up there singing on the hill, and it was beautiful.

As if the plunging view over Lake Geneva, even more than the dampness of a dark club, transcended its folk melodies.

After weeks of musical withdrawal, because an album will never replace a concert on an emotional level, this moment was like epiphany.

When a vaccine will be available and cultural outings will be completely deconfined, these other, more intimate proposals should multiply, like what the PALP Festival also does in Valais.

Because this is a good way to bring local artists to life, while attracting a different audience, adept at a moment of sharing rather than a fiesta.