Elegance and confidence
The weekend opens with the quartet of Israeli pianist Shai Maestro, former pianist of the famous double bassist Avishai Cohen. Piano, keyboard, drums and double bass. It begins almost modestly: an intimate upright piano with a rough and charming sound, three beats, a suspended waltz, Then the passage to the grand piano changes the perspective: the tune becomes symphonic. Shai Maestro works his triads, climbing into the high notes as if he were looking for something — an answer, perhaps. The parallel movements draw a clear, almost meditative line. A repetitive pattern sets in, regular pulsation, orange light on the scene like a sunrise. Jorde Roeder’s double bass in C pedal, telluric anchoring. Maestro constructs, quite differently from his next album The GuestHouse . Because we understand that for him, live music does not necessarily have to resemble the album. The room is full. He knows how to manage dramaturgy: slow build-up, contained tension. At times, oriental inflections run through the speech, a harmonic memory that comes to the surface. Everything is in the service of the music, egos erased. The drummer, Ofri Nehemya, impresses us, in flexibility, in creativity, in listening to other musicians. Israeli, in a fractured world, Shai does not say a word about politics. Not a hint. Nothing. He plays. He lets the music speak for him.
After him, China Moses enters the scene, silver boots and outspoken. Eight musicians, brass in squadron. She confides. Divorce, dating apps, loneliness after forty. “A man who is too handsome? So it’s dead. » Laughs. “The whole world needs therapy,” she says. She is funny, sensual, sexy, but never light. A song for his single friends: “Make him get along well with his mother. » Behind the humor, the very simple desire for love — and for a partner who gives space. Then gravity. She talks about her mother, the great singer Dee Dee Bridgewater, 75, who experienced “For whites only” racism in the United States. She quotes Nina Simone: the duty of the artist is to reflect his time. She sang for the Bataclan, for her friend who died of breast cancer. She talks about algorithms, ADHD, self-producing her album, refusing different labels, the courage it takes to defend your music. It’s Complicatedher latest album which she presents this evening, recorded in 2019, released in 2025 after a thousand obstacles. “Treat your music like a work of art. Give it value. » To get closer to the public, she decided not to put it on streaming platforms but to send it by post directly to those who order from her via her website. For her, the political comes through the intimate. Through the story. Through laughter. It does not divide the room: it brings it together in confidence and music.
Vibrato, triplets….and too many words?
Sunday evening opens delicately with Cuban pianist Roberto Fonseca and cellist Vincent Segal. “Soul Kiss.” Then “Parisian Night” in Havana. Two titles like two postcards that answer each other — Paris dreams of Cuba, Cuba remembers Paris. Duo touching on compositions like genre pieces, almost classic in writing. Double triplets from the piano—the technique and power of Roberto Fonseca are beyond doubt—and deep vibrato from the cello. Segal says that he played here at fourteen, accompanying the singer Régine Crespin. The Châtelet becomes memory. Childhood returns through the bow. Repeated bass in the bass, slow pizzicati while Roberto Fonseca delivers fiery solos, an undeniable groove which is born from this tension between restraint and acceleration, just before the beat, then just after, to land on the first beat and the reprise of the theme. It’s not a duel: it’s a dance for two. Virtuosity does not serve the ego, but the story. “Without him, I would have forgotten the vibrato of the cello,” Vincent Segal slips with complicity when speaking of Roberto Fonseca.
Then comes Dhafer Youssef. Rock drums, incandescent oud, distant trumpet, impressive vocals. Technically, the trance is there, although we would have liked to hear more oud than vocals. But very quickly, the speech takes over. He recalls that his pianist comes from Spain, a “pro-Palestinian country”. He says he sings for Palestine. A woman in the room protests: “We’re here for the music. » A man replies: “You just have to go out, you bitch”. Faintness. The music continues, but the tune has changed. Youssef has the right to say. The artist is not required to remain silent. But in a flammable context, the question arises: Should we choose a side rather than a horizon? We would have preferred a more inclusive message of peace. May trance connect rather than divide.
The role of artists
The program ends on the last evening with Kenny Barron, legendary pianist, a jazz figure who has spanned the decades. Barron does not make statements. He plays. And in its agreements, there is already a vision of the world: listening, balance, conversation, memory, respect. At the Châtelet, this weekend, four attitudes followed one another: the inhabited silence of Shai Maestro, the intimate testimony of China Moses, the shared memory of Fonseca and Segal, the frontal declaration of Dhafer Youssef. Jazz, as always, has not decided. He exposed. He recalled that no scene is neutral. And that in a great theater, every note — and every word — weighs.
date: 2026-02-12 21:41:00
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