Grégory Privat is arguably the most prominent pianist on the current French jazz scene, and a distinctive voice in contemporary jazz. He was recently in London as part of Lars Danielsson’s group Liberetto. His Phoenix Trio make their London debut at Pizza Pheasantry on Friday 2 May 2025.
Privat has been pursuing a brilliant musical career for several years: as a pianist, vocalist and composer, his way of combining jazz with Caribbean melodies is elegant and highly individual. With an instinctive sense for the poetic, with virtuosity but also with music which is truly felt, he has already won over audiences in Paris and elsewhere; as well as receiving a prestigious award in 2024, the Django Reinhardt Prize for Musician of the Year awarded by the Académie du Jazz.
His latest album is his second, Phoenix, released in early 2024, an allegory inspired by the mythical bird – a symbol of eternal renewal – which tirelessly rises from its own ashes. Ahead of this important London date, he was interviewed by Emma Forestier.
UK Jazz News: You received classical training before turning to jazz. What’s the story?
Grégory Privat: Classical piano was my first musical language. It taught me rigour, discipline – and also a certain elegance of movement. But it was in the silences between the notes, in syncopation, in the unexpected, that I could see clearly that there was another way of being.
My father, himself a musician—he plays in Malavoi, a Creole music group—passed on to me this love of cross-cultural Caribbean rhythms. At home, jazz was never far away: it filled the walls and permeated the air. So it was only natural that I should turn to this music with its shifting contours, this music of the moment and of intimacy. Jazz gave me the space I needed to invent, improvise and breathe differently.
UKJN: What do you remember about the first jazz concert you went to?
GP: My memory of it is a bit blurry – but also blindingly clear. I think it was Fal Frett, a jazz fusion band based in Martinique. I was fascinated by the amazing freedom I picked up from their playing.
UKJN: There’s a particular feeling of ancestral energy about your playing. Is there a spiritual quest behind it?
GP: Yes, absolutely. It’s through music that I connect with what’s beyond me, with presences that the eye doesn’t see, with the voices of those who came before me.
At the same time it’s a therapy and a spiritual offering. It calms me but, in equal measure, spurs me on towards the unknown. I truly believe that this energy can be transmitted to the audience — that it sometimes touches the soul without even passing through words. It is within this silent exchange that I find the presence of what is sacred.
UKJN: Can you talk about using your singing voice, which you do more of on the new album?
GP: At first, I approached singing with a certain reticence. On Soley, I only dared to sing on two tracks, as if I was trying out the waters. But the voice is the most exposed instrument, and the most direct. It can sometimes say what notes alone cannot.
I took the time to get to know it, to work on it. On Phoenix, it came to the fore naturally. It allows me to say the unsayable, to dive even deeper into the world I’m trying to create.
UKJN: You work in your regular trio with Chris Jennings and Tilo Bertholo, tell us about them…
GP: I started working with Tilo in 2016. We share the same rhythmic culture and the same island roots, which makes our musical dialogue unusually natural and fluid.
Chris, on the other hand, is a sound explorer. The way he uses pedals on his double bass and disrupts textures opens unexpected doors for me. The trio leaves the familiar shores of jazz as it is known, and ventures into territory which is far more hybrid, freer….
UKJN: The title Phoenix evokes rebirth. How does it reflect your own journey?
GP: To create is to be reborn. Every project is a transformation. You have to accept letting a part of yourself die so that something else can emerge — something even more sincere, more refined, closer to your inner truth.
In my personal life, too, I’ve experienced moments when things are broken, when you have no choice but to reinvent yourself. The Phoenix was born from the ashes and I’ve seen how wounds can be transfigured into light.
UKJN: The song Phoenix, which you perform in Creole, opens your concerts. Why did you choose it?
GP: Because it embodies dawn. It’s that first flame you light in the night to invite hearts to warm up together.
I layered several vocal lines that intertwine, carried by the beat of the drums and the sound of the bass. It’s a song full of sunshine, a joyful incantation, a promise of light. Like the Phoenix, I wanted it to speak of resilience, but also of beauty.
UKJN: Some of the songs on the album are very emotional…
GP: “Lòtbò” (meaning ‘to the other side’) is a letter to my late grandfather. It’s a tribute, but also a way of coming to terms with death in a different way — as a benevolent presence watching over us, rather than an absence.
Then there’s Supernova, which evokes the cosmic origin of our existence. The idea that we are made of stars deeply moves me. This track is an explosion of light, a call to remember that each of us carries the universe within us.
UKJN: Your album Phénix has been critically acclaimed and recognised by the Académie du Jazz. How do these honours make you feel?
GP: I feel profound emotions about it. I don’t compose for awards – you get involved in music through having a passion for it, and out of an inner need. But when these distinctions come along, they remind you that what you create touches other souls. It’s an encouragement to keep searching…digging… daring.
UKJN: You will soon be performing in London, for the first time playing your own compositions. What are your thoughts as you look forward to it?
GP: It’s a pivotal moment, an opening to new horizons. It’s the first time I’ll be presenting my world to a London audience, and I’m really excited about it.
Sharing this music beyond borders is also an attempt to break down the barriers that are too often erected around jazz, a music that is sometimes thought to be reserved for an elite few.
But jazz is alive, vibrant and young: it is still a place for daring, for transformation. I want to help make jazz more accessible and welcoming, and yet never betray its ethos.
