This is such a strong album. It deserves to win awards, and probably will. Whereas the word multi-layered gets plastered across countless press releases, what Charlotte Planchou and pianist Mark Priore have given us with Le Carillon is the full millefeuille (that’s Smith Island Cake for any Americans reading this). It’s touching. It’s funny. It’s sometimes very angry. It’s wonderfully expressive and musical. The happy surprises never seem to stop.
I’ve also been enjoying Planchou’s way of doing the media round to promote the album. Her technique with interviewers is feisty, even ballsy. One of them asked her the most indolent/innocent of questions: “Pourquoi cet album?” (why this album). Planchou returns his lazy dolly of a serve with a cross-court winner: “Pourquoi pas?” (why not). The interviewer certainly didn’t see that one coming.
And then, in the same interview (link below), given the opportunity to sing and play, she comes up with a song which isn’t even on the album at all. We hear her soulful take on “Regasu” – a song by the Cape Verdean singer/composer Orlando Pantera which has also been beautifully done by Mayra Andrade. Her performance has not just fabulous musicality but also genuine pathos.
I suspect the real reason she chose to sing it is that she happened to be on her own in the TV studio, whereas the album is very much a collaborative enterprise with her extremely classy regular pianist Mark Priore. A great example of their great way of working together, pacing, breathing as one, is in “C’est la Vie”, a song which is a co-write with composer/producer Julien Dayan. There’s real beauty in this song.
Planchou also has the desire to re-interpret songs quite radically, notably the Léo Ferré song “Est-ce ainsi que les hommes vivent ?”, which Ferré loosely based on a war poem by Louis Aragon. It has been covered by a lot of singers (up to and including Cecile McLorin Salvant), it has its place in French culture, but Planchon has refused to leave it as it is. She has converted the whole text from the first person of a man narrating his story, and into the second person where he s being observed. The implication here is that maybe a man visiting a brothel would have been seen as a case for sympathy in the 1960’s, but – and Planchou is doing more than implying it – such sentiments now need to be consigned to the past. I will be fascinated to read what a critic properly versed in 20th Century French literature like Francis Marmande makes of this provocative re-reading.
Planchou sings in no fewer than five languages, which is another way for her to expand here stylistic and emotional palette. Her version of Brecht/Weill’s Mack the Knife has a real sting in its tail, bringing in a very explicit rebuke to “Genossen” (comrades) Harvey Weinstein and Jeffrey Epstein.
All that is in complete contrast to her leaning towards Benjamin Britten’s gentler folksong treatments, or Purcell/ Dryden’s “How Happy the Lover”. And then there is another vibe completely with Carole King’s “You’ve Got a Friend”.. and even three rather noisy appearances from her grandmother’s antique clock.
Charlotte Planchou is a singer with no limits and she has made a delightful album.
