Press Review
Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier  »An Age Of Wonder »

The Wire (july 2012)

Félicia Atkinson’s age of wonder has slipped through her fingers, or so beautiful sadness and low-level violence of her work seems to imply. Inspired by a brief residency in Wisconsin, trading the lingering summer haze for her native Belgium, this album as Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier (the moniker culled from a Nico song) is decidedly liminal. Her hypnagogic production dissolves the song into earthen clumps of meandering synth melodies and elliptical vocal utterances. « The First Forest is grippingly amorphous in its long-form undulations of murkily liturgical interludes, but « Fever Dunes » stands our as the most accomplished piece she has recorded to date. Her commanding if narcoleptic voice carries a sombre, wordless dirge of a tune that drifts above distant twinklings, heartbeat rhythms and a submarine drone that takes a wrong turn down to the bottom of the sea.

The Wire, july issue, #141

Tiny Mixtapes

“Je suis le petit chevalier/ Avec le ciel dessus mes yeux…/ Avec la terre dessous mes pieds,” sang Nico’s son Ari on her seminal 1970 album Desertshore. Ari, who must have been all of three or four at the time, would later attempt to sell Nico’s leftover methadone at her funeral (at least according to James Young). And that juxtaposition tells you a part of what you need to know about this album (for more on parts and/as w/holes, stay tuned). Desertshore can be read as a companion to Philippe Garrel’s film La Cicatrice Intérieure, the interior scar, the closed gash — but the wound, and its healing, also represents the body’s openness to the exterior, the rejection of a paranoid and fascist boundedness and homogeneity that encompasses the fear of penetration and of leakage. The healing process speaks to resilience, but it also, ironically, cuts off the possibilities of interchange and the expansion of the subject beyond the bounds of modernist and Cartesian rationality — of Donna Haraway’s (and, speaking of the sexualized wound, Bruce LaBruce’s) “pleasure in the confusion of boundaries.”

Brussels-based Félicia Atkinson, prolificist, visual artist, and sound sculptress extraordinaire, has been working as Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, as well as under her own name, for some time now, but An Age Of Wonder brings her art to its pinnacle, as well as bringing to a horizon (between zenith and nadir) the reconciliating suture joining the ambient violence of recent pieces such asL’Enfant Sauvage’s “No Talisman” and Atkinson’s gentler tendencies. The press release tells us that the album is “[i]nspired by the Amish Community, the northern wisconsin sunsets and the indian summer in Belgium… filled with golden summer hazes, voluptuous thoughts, and august storms.” To the ears of this listener, however, there’s something a little darker here — more akin to the storm of Giorgione’s La Tempesta, but with our own near-decaying skyscrapers (grattacieli, an almost painful term) rearing in the background.

Speaking of ears, we might recall Marshall McLuhan’s definition of aurality and its “acoustic space”: sans center or margin, organic and integral, synaesthetic. McLuhan, in the 1960s, thought that this was the space of tribal societies in the era before the alphabet, but we might think of this state, in the present moment, as the experience of Haraway’s perverse and subversive hu-man-imal “in space… wary of holism, but needy for connection,” for visitation privileges.

Speech, for McLuhan, was an outering of the senses, and Atkinson describesher work as “being in translation, searching for an unknown meaning.” What if, in the post- or post-postmodern era, we consider the creation and distribution of sound as a speech act in itself? Atkinson, after all, identifies her process as a turning away from an immersion in media, which is also a re-turning toward a state of fiction. Will our synaesthetic senses form the healing, but not yet healed, wound-scarification in which we are retribalized, in which we may resist the tyranny of reason without a reductionist, Manichaean recourse to its Other? Goddess may be dead as well as God, and Atkinson’s music may be diversely gender-neutral as well as feminine; but with such a prophetess, initiation itself would be (alinear) progress.

While being careful with the tribal metaphor (as stock in trade of Western colonialist stereotypes), we might recall (as Atkinson herself does) the spirit animal, and with it our own animality, the fleshy aspect of our cyborg nature that should nonetheless not be considered dual; the ghost is the shell. This is a tradition that, contrary to popular stereotype, has deep roots not only for peoples who were colonized, but also in European history — in the Norsefylgja — and in our own pets, slaves of benevolence, little household deitiesbecome dependent in God’s absence. Another recent release, under Atkinson’s own name, is entitled On Being Kind To Horses; but what is a knight without spurs, a knight who is kind? A knight in white satin? There is a Medieval quality, a Germanic gothicism to this figure, and also a quality of the landscape — of a figure in a landscape — with which Atkinson’s work is very much concerned, both texturally and in her own statements and nomenclature.

But to return to our hero: When we think of the petit chevalier, the little knight, we might think not only of Nico, but also of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s much-beloved Little Prince. Like Ari’s knight, the prince finds himself with the sky in his eyes and the ground beneath his feet, but tenuously, tenuously… A proto-cyborg who was not born in the Garden, his liminality is that of the wanderer from asteroid to asteroid, of the devouring baobab, of the death inherent in seriality and repetition (both in his serial odyssey itself and in the figure of thebusiness man) — and, ultimately, physical death itself. Here there’s a sense of ominousness or overshadowing that pervades An Age Of Wonder, somehow intertwined with a pragmatic or resigned melancholy (“Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms/ Alone and palely loitering?”)

And so onward… The two 20-minute-ish tracks that make up the album each represents internal evolutions, but never evolution as progress — that is, never evolution as Social Darwinism, the ascendance to a higher form, a human form, followed by the superhuman. No Übermenschen — instead, we remain, “material and opaque,” in the realm of the techno-primordial polar forest. Album opener “Fever Dunes” shifts from blurred vocals to insistent yet somehow twinkling chimes, a paradoxical combination of lullaby and wakeup call, before resolving into an ominous rumble and cavernous rush in the heart of which a dull, fearful electronic pulse emerges. Subsequently, Nico’s frozen warnings (“close to the frozen borderline”) and Haraway’s frozen moments, shattering, are embodied (or implanted?) in “The First Forest,” in which icy tones shift and merge into what is almost, but never quite, a lumbering metallic screech, a soughing, howling wind — baby, it’s cold inside — grating yet sensual biofeedback. There is a merging of the organic and electronic — a rejection of the organism/machine border war — that allows us to characterizeAn Age of Wonder as a refugium, a psychic Lost World. In another paradox, it is the Irenic colonisation of this world — the Cold War stage of the conflict over “the territories of production, reproduction, and imagination” — that is documented in Atkinson’s music.

Writing is the modal form of the document, and writing, argues Haraway, is “pre-eminently the technology of cyborgs.” But what can be documented — using this pleasurably imperfect medium-as-massage — in an online review, a double encounter and doubled mediation, a communication that is neither one-way nor interactive (“One is too few, but two are too many”)? Ari’s plaintive melody ends with the lines “J’irai te visiter/ J’irai te visiter.” An Age Of Wonder, though, is not solely a visit — the moment or duration of the encounter between subject and stranger — but a visitation.

Rowan Savage, 4.5/5


Je Suis le Petit Chevalier is the nom-de-plume of Belgian songstress Felicia Atkinson. While she’s done a number of releases under her own name, JSPC came into being early in 2011 and has been haunting stereos ever since. « An Age of Wonder » is her best release yet. On « Fever Dunes, » the mood is nostalgic. Simple keyboard loops float in the air around a series of minimal beats. Atkinson’s vocals emerge from the mist like a beacon leading you somewhere unknown. There’s a sadness in the repeating chords that pulls out fragile emotions from the deep end of the ocean. The pieces ends with the beats picking up steam like a heart racing, eventually overcome by the darkness and left to spiral into the abyss. « The First Forest » picks up where the A-Side leaves off, though with added crunch. Hopeful notes drift out from the washed-out undercurrents of organ and guitar like a distant destination in a sullen landscape. Atkinson is reaching for the top of the mountain as the piece gets more and more oppressive. It’s heartbreaking and beautiful, each note carefully considered and left to wallow in the aural murk. « An Age of Wonder » simply goes one step further in proving what a force Felicia Atkinson is. stunning work.

Brad Rose, Experimedia


The monicker of Felicia Atkinson’s solo project hails from Nico’s Desert Shore, that mysteriously bleak 1970 album by the Velvet Underground’s troubled chanteuse; and a similarly poetic mysteriousness oozes from Atkinsons’ deconstructed songs. Age Of Wonder is the second piece of vinyl for Je Suit Le Petit Chevalier, strengthening her work through a handful of limited cassettes and cd-r out of an amorphous droning psychedelia and into a smoldering intense alchemy of allegorical post-ambience. On this spooky, hypnotic, and harrowing album conjured through ever-shifting, ever-blossoming, ever-defalting soundscapes, she references the psychotropic holiness of Fursaxa, the deep-sleep surrealism of Motion Sickness Of Time Travel, and the expository minimalism of Taj Mahal Travellers. Voice, synths, loops, and electronics are the tools at her disposal, which she uses to build sprawling passages of sodden drones brightened by twinkling synths playing half-melodies and accentuated by her narcoleptic vocals cycling through wordless, but emotively sad lullablies alternating with spectral bellowings swathed in deep, washed-out reverb. The layered accretion of plainsong vocalizations and dank atmopsherics opaquely reimagines that which is natural, mystical, metaphysical, and/or mundane, always positioned as something of a mirror looking back to the human psyche as unknowable and existentially sublime. Brilliantly done.


Those excellent Frenchies at La Station Radar have hit us up with some copies of this new LP of spooky nostalgic vibes from Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, with each side offering up a single long and evocative piece of music. Mixing the neo-spiritualist post-dub psychedelia of Sun Araw or Expo 70 with drifting drone vibes, submerged Balam Acab-esque vocals and the hazy nostalgic submersion of The Caretaker and Ela Orleans. It gets pretty abstract in places, just tinkling, chuntering tone poems without a lot of melody to grasp onto, but the overall effect of the drifting, shifting washes and tinkles and whooshes and bumps is really absorbing and dizzyingly complex sometimes, without ever seeming overwhelmingly messy. Oh, no sooner do I say that than we approach the end of side A and what do you know, it gets darker and more intense and pretty overwhelming…and maybe a little messy. Flip it though and we’re back down to that weird incongruous mix of dark ambient and new age vibes. Now I’m settling into it there’s something quite sensual about the hard metallic gratings and the soft, therapeutic organ tones delicately balanced on top, like they’re walking a tightrope over a pit of spinning blades. I like this one best out of the two tracks here, with its immersive textures and wonky repetition. This whole thing is weird – challenging, even – and can be gratingly hard work in places but I’m not sure La Station Radar ever put out anything that’s objectively shit.


As the phantasmic Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, French Belgian artiste/musician Félicia Atkinson has produced some of her most engaging work. For La Station Radar/Shelter Press she presents ‘An Age Of Wonder’, which marks up as the finest piece of work we’ve heard from her. It was inspired by her time spent between Ohio and her native Belgium from July-August 2011 and manfests as two sides of celestial sludge and sublime drone drift, impressionistic sonic sketches of « …the Amish Community, the northern wisconsin sunsets and the Indian summer in Belgium… ». Entitled ‘Fever Dunes’, the A-side shapes a delicate and enchanting ecology of watery tones and mossy drones joined by her ghostly vocal which seems to seep through the sonic foliage like a lost and wandering Rachel Evans delirious from unripe berries and « magic » fungi until a nightmarishly noisy conclusion. B-side ‘The First Forest’ offers a more sanguine delight, drifting with waves of looped guitar feedback into a miasmic sunset of epic scale. Gorgeous.

Record of the week

New Noise Magazine

Croisée sur le premier volume de l’excellente compilation lancée par Hands In The Dark et Ruralfaune, Travel Expop, Félicia Atkinson nous avait tout de suite emballés. Enregistré en partie aux Etats-Unis et issu de la même session d’enregistrement que L’Enfant Sauvage, son prédécesseur, An Age Of Wonder s’en détache pourtant, délaissant l’énergie bouillonnante et juvénile, les digressions bruitistes qui agitaient « No Talisman », pour appréhender des climats faussement apaisés. Les touches vocales discrètes qui parcourent « Fever Dunes » sont rarement rassurantes, et l’ombre n’est jamais bien loin (au milieu de cette première face, les bourdonnements menaçants deviennent plus intenses, les voix se salissent). Difficile aussi de savoir dans quelle mesure la communauté amish (si l’on se fie aux dires de l’auteur) a insipiré Atkinson pour la conception de son disque, mais on ressent dans la musique de « The First Forest » un certain immobilisme, un côté désuet (renforcé par les nappes d’orgue) qui semble parfaitement décrire le mode de vie archaïque de ces mennonites, rendus célèbres par le Witness de Peter Weir. Quelque part entre Grouper, Double Leopards, voir Eluvium, An Age Of Wonder est, dans le genre, l’une des très bonnes surprises de cette année : un fascinant jeu entre ombres et lumières, une invitation à l’introspection des plus saisissantes.

A. Lemoine 8/10

Sputnik Music

Admittedly, I was not at all familiar with the existence of Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier before An Age Of Wonder. Luckily, I quickly found that background knowledge isn’t a prerequisite for appreciating what I was surprised to find to be one of the most complete, satisfying releases of 2012. There’s a heavy, organic feel to the LP. It can’t be a mistake that the second track and stunning highlight “The First Forest” is titled so, because Je Suis’s record is a living, breathing, organism with a rich sense of character. This is most present in the way the duo of tracks wax and wane between obscured fuzz and standard drone, wailing winds and minimalism. No obvious touchstones come to mind when comparing An Age of Wonder to drone peers, and there’s nothing particularly outstanding on the LP besides its exquisite execution.

“Fever Dunes” is rather bland compared to the more inspired ups and downs of “The First Forest,” but it serves as a perfect template on which Je Suis then craft their more emotive second track. There are a few inspirations for An Age Of Wonder (the band cites the Amish community, Belgium, and Ohio countryside); but besides the obvious bucolic, earthy tones, the album is one that’s perfect for self-exploration, an almost-blank slate– another reason that lack of experience akin to my aforementioned lack thereof shouldn’t scare away newcomers. An Age Of Wonder expands beautifully on many of the drone tropes, but never bludgeons them to death, instead lightly grazing them in search of something more significant. And considering the masterpiece of “The First Forest” alone, it’s hard to discredit Je Suis of this achievement.

Rough Trade

Stunning long player from je suis le petit chevalier. Haunting, melancholic strands of melody emerge from memory-lapse hiss, blocks of fuzz descend with the utmost precision on this internal landscape that begs immersion. Largely electronic with generous chordal cloaks derived from organ sounds, ‘an age of wonder’ breathes as a whole work, alive with a sense of the unknowable. inspired by the amish community, the northern wisconsin sunsets and the indian summer in belgium, je suis le petit chevalier recorded an age of wonder between belgium and ohio between july and august 2011, filled with golden summer hazes, voluptuous thoughts, and august storms.

No Fear Of Pop

It isn’t exactly a small amount of digital or physical releases our Paris-born girl Felicia Atkinson has been putting out on her Bandcamp the past four years, both “solo” in addition to her other project Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, born in upstate New York in the summer of 2010. On An Age Of Wonder, the newest vinyl release of Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, miss Atkinson continues to float in her peculiar borderland between ambient and drone, darker and more hideous than what we remember from, for instance, Green & Grey.

Homeless Mind

Two long playing sides to an LP that gains so much from the soft touch of a needle.
No, not smack. Vinyl.


Félicia Atkinson, alias Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, nous avait déjà magnétisé les sens sur la compilation Travel Expop Series #1, et la voilà encore à l’œuvre sur son nouvel albumAn Age Of Wonder, que l’on dit inspiré par « la communauté Amish, les couchers de soleil du nord du Wisconsin ou l’été indien en Belgique », et qui a déjà fait couler beaucoup d’encre experte.

Composé de deux longues pièces expérimentales qui se vivent comme des traversées de contrées inconnues, tantôt hostiles (l’aridité finale de Fever Dunes), tantôt enchantées et émouvantes (le motif introductif de The First Forest, répété et déchiré jusqu’à la sublimation), An Age Of Wonder a été co-édité par La Station Radar et Shelter Press. Vous pouvez découvrir la musique ci-dessous en même temps que des bande-annonces qui nourriront votre imaginaire.

Dirty Dirt

Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier “An Age Of Wonder”
フランスのLa Station RadarとベルギーのShelter Pressの共同リリース。
ベルギーな女の子、Félicia Atkinsonの別名儀。ことしのわたしのテーマです。
ちょうどいまニッポンにきてるSylvain Chauveauといっしょなのをリリースしてたりな。
残像たっぷりなシンセ? による低音がぼつぼつとはねまわるなか、ギターのささやかな音と、シンセのドローンにつつまれながら、ささやきとうめきごえのあいだな歌がしずかに、さら に、どの音もくぐもってるんだけれど、つぎからつぎにギターの音、きらきらとした音が、これまた残像たっぷりにあらわれては消え。靄がはれてきて、そのな かきらきらした音がはっきりときこえるようになってきたとおもったら、遠くからゆっくり、ほんとゆっくりと迫ってくる低いノイズに、その狭い空間から抜け 出そうとするようなうめき声の増幅。

The Siren Sound

Experience over half an hour of darkness over your head. If you dig [ Ous Mal ] ~ [ Fabio Orsi ] ~ [ Deaf Center ] ~ [ Ent ] ~ [ Nest ] ~ [ Grouper ] and the likes then “An Age Of Wonder by [ Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier ] is a release you should not miss at any cost. ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC ambient sound and do check out trailer one on Vimeo as well.

Pocket Welt

Artiste plasticienne ainsi que musicienne, Felicia Atkinson vient de sortir sous son nom de scène Je Suis le Petit Chevalier l’album The Age of Wonder (Shelter Press / La Station Radar), donc la face B The First Forest est une petite merveille drone; superposé à des images du film Ori de Shuji Terayama, le morceau en devient encore plus inquiétant. Ca tombe bien, on aime ça. – clip du mois

Flur Discos

Félicia Atkinson já apareceu em trabalhos de Sylvain Chauveau e tem desenvolvido imenso trabalho em nome próprio. Como Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier tem estado a crescer, no ano passado colocou cá fora muitos discos (o mais notável, “L’Enfant Sauvage”, na fabulosa Aguirre), mas foi com este “An Age Of Wonder” que nos conquistou. Cerca de quarenta minutos fantasmagóricos, com um tacto cuidado a tratar desse território (a fazer lembrar terras visitadas pelos Scorces e os Charalambides) e uma delicadeza e cadência que parecem hoje raras no campo do drone, mesmo considerando as senhoras que mais se aproximam desse território (Grouper e Motion Sickness Of Time Travel, por exemplo). Félicia viaja à medida que cria magia com a sua guitarra e deixa a sua voz sem rumo numa floresta negra. Top 3 de melhor disco de drones que poderão ouvir este ano. A primeira remessa esgotou em horas, recebemos agora algumas das últimas cópias desta edição limitada em vinil verde.


Non pago di sfornare con un’assiduità invidiabile talenti genuini in materia di cantautorato e popmuzik nel senso più ampio del termine, da qualche tempo il Belgio è pure una piccola terra promessa che accoglie alcune tra le più interessanti produzioni europee di quel vastissimo macrocosmo definito genericamente “ambient-music”. Se Dirk Serries ha infatti spianato la strada in patria verso queste sonorità, in moltissimi hanno provveduto poi a diffondere, quando non modificare e radicalizzare, quelle intuizioni iniziali, moltiplicando i livelli di lettura a dismisura, in un paese relegato tutto sommato ai bordi dell’attenzione musicale mondiale (si spera ancora per poco).
Da circa un lustro, assieme ai due protegées di casa Miasmah Kreng e Kaboom Karavan, Félicia Atkinson (francese ma da tempo residente a Bruxelles) è il nome di punta di una scena che ha ritrovato il bandolo della matassa e sorride al futuro, e che, nella sua prolificità finanche estenuante, ha cominciato finalmente a ingranare la marcia giusta. E ironia della sorte, è col suo progetto parallelo, Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier (sì, il nome deriva proprio dal celebre brano di Nico), non meno produttivo di quello madre, che i conti hanno preso a quadrare, che il progetto acquista una fisionomia più definita.

Rilasciato lo scorso marzo, “An Age Of Wonder”, puntata numero otto di un side-project varato giusto nel 2010, è composto da due lunghissime suite di diciotto minuti circa ciascuna, in cui la Atkinson raggiunge con una precisione finora soltanto sfiorata quella compenetrazione tra arti visive e musica, fino a questo momento agognata come la più classica delle chimere. Confessa di essersi ispirata alla comunità Amish, ai tramonti del Wisconsin e all’estate di San Martino belga, e nei continui torrenti sinestetici che il lavoro sfodera, non manca di farsi riconoscere questa molteplicità negli ascendenti, e l’istintivo contrasto che li separa.
Strutturate infatti come effettiva opera d’ambiente, le due facce del vinile, non dissimili nella realizzazione, delineano uno scenario in cui i luoghi dell’anima riflettono e si riflettono nello spazio che li circonda. Spazi chiusi e aperti, abissi e risalite, vagabondaggi per deserti sterminati e impenetrabili foreste diventano così il pretesto per singolari riflessioni sull’inconscio e sull’esistenza, che prendono forma in un mélange inquieto e violaceo, ripetutamente rigato da una profonda nostalgia.

Un inconscio che s’innalza lentamente e si ferma a mezz’aria: come una Julia Holter strappata dal torpore del suo esoterismo, come una Rachel Evans sorpresa a guardare per una volta la terra invece che gli astri, in “Fever Dunes” la Atkinson si avvicina nell’oscurità con l’impalpabilità di uno spettro, parlando lingue dimenticate, con un calore fioco che scioglie il freddo circostante. La senti vicina quella voce, eppure sa farti trasalire anche da lontano, persa nella stretta di un giro di tastiera, nell’abbraccio fosco di droni e impulsi elettrici che si intrecciano e si trasfigurano in continuazione in quel paesaggio desertico, decantato sin dal titolo.
Più turbato, il contatto con l’elemento naturale in “The First Forest” si fa carico invece di tensioni brulicanti, in cui gli istinti vocali vengono repressi per cedere il posto a complesse trame di organo e chitarra, che si abbattono sull’algido bordone in un mulinello sempre più vorticoso, in un duello che non porta né a vincitori né a vinti. In un silenzio covato a fatica, la tempesta a cui affidare i propri struggimenti interiori, di qualunque carattere essi siano.

Nonostante qualche lungaggine di troppo, la Atkinson, con un nome diverso, ha imbroccato un percorso, liquido e ammaliante, che potrebbe seriamente portarle una maggiore, e a questo punto, meritata, visibilità. Con l’auspicio che il disco in questione, nei suoi floridi soundscape, possa essere il primo mattone verso una reale « era del miracolo ».

Joseph Ghosn

1. Comment as-tu conçu ton nouvel album, An Age Of Wonder ? En quoi est-il symbolique du son de “Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier” ?

An Age of Wonder a été enregistré en studio dans l’Ohio, lors d’une résidence d’artiste cet été en pleine campagne entre communauté Amish et redneck, par 40 degrés et à Bruxelles, à la maison. Il s’agit de la suite de mon premier LP en tant que Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, L’Enfant Sauvage, qui était sorti sur le label Aguirre il y a quelques mois. An age of wonder est un disque centré sur les textures des claviers, sur les modulations physiques et inconscientes qu’expriment pour moi les synthétiseurs. Il est composé de deux longs morceaux, chacun sur une face, comme deux longs poèmes ou deux voyages. Il y a je crois une dimension épique dans le son de JSLPC, un rapport cosmogonique à la musique. Quelque chose qui raconterait une quête entre la Baghavad Ghita et le Kalevala et la creation d’un monde invisible, la définition d’un territoire secret.

L’Enfant Sauvage racontait l’adolescence d’une guerriere, les douleurs de sa metamorphose d’enfant à jeune fille. C’etait une erruption volcanique. An Age of Wonder se concentre sur le passage à l’âge adulte, il est plus apaisé, le paysage passe de la jungle aux plaines….Il y a plus de cours d’eaux et de lumiere. J’ai enregistré ces deux disques le mois où j’allais avoir 30 ans et disons que L’enfant Sauvage exprimait en une sythese abstraite mon expérience de la vingtaine, et An Age of Wonder mes aspirations pour la décennie à venir.

2. Etait-ce une préoccupation de le sortir en vinyle ? En quoi cela a-t-il changé la donne par rapport aux cassettes ?

Je suis très attachée aux support analogiques et au concept de face, comme pour une pièce de monnaie, ou comme le jour et la nuit, et donc les supports cassettes et vinyles me correspondent très bien je trouve. Les cassettes donnent pour moi la possibilité de rester très expérimentale et legere, j’en sors régulièrement et elles font office de journal intime de mes préoccupations sonores.
Le vinyle est le résultat final, une version romanesque de ces carnets de note. J’ai demandé à Pete Swanson de faire le mastering de L’Enfant Sauvage et An Age of Wonder et il a rajouté une brillance au son que je trouve magique.
Mais aussi, ce qui est formidable avec le vinyle c’est l’opportunité qu’il donne en terme de design et d’esthétique. Les pochettes sont très importantes pour moi, tout comme le choix du vinyle lui même.
Pour An Age of Wonder, avec La Station radar et Bartolomé (Shelter Press), nous avons essayé de concevoir l’objet le plus beau possible à nos yeux.
Il y a eu une série limité de 40 disques dont la pochette intérieure avait été peinte à la main, tout a été choisi minutieusement, les images, le papier, la couleur
J’ai choisi ces images trouvées très précieuses, en noir et blanc: une sculpture de style grec allégorique et un gemme en gros plan. Le vinyle est vert transparent. Je voulais quelque chose de très précieux, organique et sobre en même temps, comme une perle d’huitre ou un flocon de neige,

3. Tu dessines, plutôt sous ton identité civile (Felicia Atkinson). Quel lien fais-tu entre ta musique et tes dessins ?

Le dessin commence là où la musique s’arrête, et inversement, je vois l’un et l’autre comme complémentaire mais rarement cote a cote, (sauf en cas de syncope ou d’éclipse), le dessin serait mes jours et la musique mes nuits, quelque chose comme cela….. Dans les deux cas il s’agit de trouver l’échelle ou abstraction et figuration se touchent, ou un son est a mi chemin entre le bruit et la mélodie, ou le trait croise le paysage et la forme pure.
c’est cela qui m’intéresse, cette petite croix qui apparait quand deux traits obliques et opposés, ou de courbes inverses, se touchent.