It all seems … classy? Rigid? Uncommon? A bit of all of that.
Getting behind the heavy red curtains that hide at the far side of the stage. Feeling the old wooden floorboards squeak beneath our feet, the dense air of the room filled with red, velvety armchairs. Seeing only two or three heads watching silently from the balconies, this solitary piano placed in the middle of a large stage. And Francesco, tall, slender, emerging from between the curtains, just like in a Christophe Honoré movie. Tall, handsome, with wild hair, emanating an almost irritating relaxation, never losing his confidence and the sense of mastery. Surprised, we feel a natural need to be formal, he asks us what we want to hear. A bit of Bach and then an improvisation? That would be nice… We did not answer, he merely suggested.
We turned off some projectors, Julien set down his microphones, then we drew back, leaving Colin and Francesco alone on the stage, we hid behind the curtains, where the backstage dramas are being played out, just like in a story, when one of the characters has to go on the stage while the plot is developing in the background, only known to the spectators of the film when those watching the play or a ballet performance do not suspect a thing.
There I was, an observer of a strange ballet. Francesco played on his piano. While playing Bach, he remained fairly seated. Later, during the improvisation, he hacked some machines on his left, he got up to hit the strings, he was constantly moving, yet, at the same time, never changing his position. And Colin turned and turned around him, slid, danced around this centre line. On that day, I enjoyed two pleasures: the pleasure of facing a music I was not familiar with and the pleasure of knowing I have witnessed a scene from backstage just as breathtaking as the film below.
Translated by David Sádovský
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