Racines du Vent

Root and Wind: two words that came to me before I started writing this piece for organ and percussion.
The sound of the organ, resonating thanks to the wind passing through the pipes, can last a long time, like tree roots growing from the depths of the earth, while the sound of the percussion can disappear in the air like the wind.
Moreover, the word root also refers to one’s origins.
To write this piece, I drew on the sounds and noises I grew up with in Japan, such as traditional folk songs, the echoes of folk festivals, or the resonance of the drum at nightfall…
And Japan is a country with a particularly strong link to nature, whether in everyday life, in literature or in art, which is why the titles of this piece include some of nature’s essential elements: wind, tree, water, earth and light.
There are three parts to this piece, but each movement is played without interruption.
The first is called L’Arbre sacré. It’s a praise of the hundred- or thousand-year-old trees that often stand beside Shinto temples.
In the movement that follows, Et la Pluie pénètre la Terre, I wanted to evoke the image of rain gently infiltrating the earth during the night. The water thus nourishes the roots.
In the third movement, Danse de l’Aube, I used light as a source of inspiration.
I quote a story from the mythology of the Land of the Rising Sun:
“The goddess of light, Amaterasu, upset by the violent nature of her brother Susanoo, the god of storms, decides to hide in a cave. The world falls into darkness. Embarrassed, the other gods try to get her out. To attract her attention, they dance and drum around the cave. Intrigued by the noise coming from outside, the goddess gradually emerges from her hiding place. The world is once again illuminated by the sun’s rays.”
The final movement ends in an atmosphere of joyous celebration.