Lise Barkas is a musician living in Strasbourg. She plays the hurdy-gurdy and bagpipes out of a passion for these traditional instruments and the sound effects they produce. She co-founded Kreis / Collectif continu and performs with a number of experimental groups, including L'Écluse and the duo Lise & Lisa.
Interview conducted February 19, 2021
Why does a young musician choose the hurdy-gurdy and bagpipes to express herself? When did you make this choice? How did you learn to play these instruments?
I started with the hurdy-gurdy in 2010. I'd never played music before. I didn't come to it through the repertoire, but because I appreciated the sound of this instrument by hearing it on records, both of traditional music, such as Malicorne, and of experimental music, such as the group Coil, with hurdy-gurdy player Cliff Stapleton. I was already listening to Coil, but this instrument caught my attention. I asked around, because I knew this group used modular synthesizers and electronics, but this sound seemed very different, more organic. When I was able to identify it, I looked for all the music possible with the hurdy-gurdy, and spent two years listening to it. When I was a child, I'd heard someone playing the hurdy-gurdy regularly in the street: perhaps my attraction also came from this distant memory?
And the bagpipes?
That came later. I moved to Lille, where I took part in the music school's end-of-year concert. We played along with the bagpipes. The drone and sound of these instruments had already appealed to me since my discovery of the Le Son continu festival, but playing in their company, seeing them busy on their instruments, feeling the effects and sensations, I wanted to get closer to this instrument. That was in 2013. Then I took lessons from Edouard Bauer.
Do you still play traditional music today, such as dance music?
A little less than in the beginning, because traditional balls were the only environment in which I could play music. But I still play it. It's something I enjoy doing, even if I've never been particularly attached to the repertoire.
What I know of you is mostly in the field of performance and experimental music. Where did this particular interest come from?
It predates my interest in old music. I'd been listening to a lot of experimental music for a long time. I was also interested in film soundscapes. That's how I discovered a lot of music, like in Tarkovsky's Stalker, and especially Paradjanov's traditional music. One thing led to another and I listened to experimental rock and electronic music like Coil. I kept this approach when I got my hurdy-gurdy. Once again, it was for sound reasons that I chose this instrument, not for the repertoire. Once I had mastered it, I looked for new and unusual playing techniques. I also listened to Yann Gourdon around 2012, who showed me that it was possible to bring together these two things I liked: my instrument and experimental repertoires.
How do you relate this experimental practice to traditional music?
For me, there's a similar feeling. I find something that speaks to me in the same way, but that I can't explain.
On your website, L'Écluse's music is described as trance music. Could there be a link between these two worlds?
The description of L'Écluse on our website wasn't written by us, but by a journalist, Michel Henritzi. I've never used that word myself, although I know what you mean. In balls, with dance, as in our music, even if it's not for dancing, you can indeed find this same quest for another state of consciousness.
Now let's talk about Kreis/Collectif continu. You founded this collective in 2017 with Félix Chaillou (multi-instrumentalist, including hurdy-gurdy player and instrument tinkerer), and Léo Maurel (luthier specializing in hurdy-gurdies and many derivatives, such as bourdon boxes). Here's their presentation on your website: Kreis "has forged its identity around the idea of continuous sound, inherent in certain instruments such as the hurdy-gurdy, while at the same time taking an interest in experimental and improvised music, trance music and various traditional repertoires." It is also reported that Kreis "has forged close links with both local and international musicians and collectives." What does Kreis stand for?
Kreis is German for "circle". Félix and I had fun coming up with a word that expressed both something circular, like the hurdy-gurdy wheel, and the idea of a sect, because we felt a bit apart with our hurdy-gurdy stories, and we wanted to take on that image. We also liked the German word, and Lisa Käufert, who plays the bagpipes with us, is German.
You pointed out that much of what you do is linked to the activities of an alternative venue and the Tunnel. You also told me that "the only testimonies we have at the moment are a few scattered cassettes and a single three-minute bagpipe recording", which "for the moment renders inaudible a whole part of our work that is nevertheless close to our hearts". What is this alternative venue and what is the Tunnel?
It's an alternative concert hall in Strasbourg. It's a self-preserving venue because it's on the bangs, and doesn't want to draw too much attention to itself. It's an associative venue, and allows a great deal of freedom in terms of concert organization, programming, deadlines and so on.
Le Tunnel is a generic name, even though there is indeed a real tunnel in a forest, which is not an official venue. We've kept the name for various parties we organize in abandoned places. A lot of people wander around, for example in the old forts around Strasbourg, looking for interesting places to hold alternative gatherings. We have two regular venues, but many more ephemeral and nomadic ones. The organization is totally DIY(Do It Yourself), admission is free, and drinks and food are often shared free of charge. The artists also play for free, or by the hat. It's a great way of experimenting with things you wouldn't be able to do at a festival like Musique Action, for example.
You attach great importance to places. On your L'Écluse CD released by Soleils bleus, for example, you write: "We began L'Écluse in 2016, at the foot of Strasbourg Cathedral, with a bagpipe and two guitars, among the swirling winds said to be the devil trying, in vain, to penetrate the edifice." I saw you occupy the spaces of Nancy's MJC Lillebone during the Musique Action catch-up festival last September. At one point in the performance, the two guitarists came down the stairs equipped with bells and passed into the courtyard in the middle of the audience. The sound came from all sides and merged with your drones, it was very beautiful. Do you have a particular relationship with the places you use?
It's quite personal for everyone. It's not possible with the hurdy-gurdy, because I have to stay seated, but I really enjoy moving around with the bagpipes, hearing how the sound transforms and resonates in certain places, and playing it. It's the same, I imagine, for Ross Heselton and Léonie Risjeterre, who can move around with their guitars during L'Écluse sets. I think there's also something aesthetic in their vision. Léonie has an artistic background in illustration, and focuses on the visual aspect, the way we arrange ourselves. For me, it's more a matter of feeling and appreciation of sound, highlighting the sound of the instrument. Léonie, Ross and I formed the core group. As we played a lot in the street in the early days, we invited a lot of people along: a didgeridoo player, Félix, Lisa... A lot of musicians also joined us when we played as opening acts for concerts, for example at La Mine. La Mine is an art school in Strasbourg, where Léonie studied. I don't know if this defines L'Écluse, but a lot of musicians have indeed passed through the group, even if the core has remained, and Lisa and Félix have become full-fledged members.
How would you define the music of L'Écluse? Is it a modern form of traditional music, linked to the drone folk movement? Is it music to rave about?
I'm not sure exactly what " drone folk " refers to, but in our music there is indeed drone and folk. The little ostinato I play on the hurdy-gurdy comes from a traditional Hungarian piece. So you could say it's a distant reference to folk music. However, to talk about our music, I wouldn't make any reference to traditional music. Above all, I would point to the repetitive aspects common to both folk music and American minimalism. Perhaps that's where we come together. We also agree on the question of temperament and microtonality, on the notion of rightness and wrongness. Finally, we like long durations. I like to take the time to get into a piece, to experience things differently.
Now let's talk about your label, Soleils Bleus, described as "a microlabel and publishing house for folk & experimental music", based in Strasbourg, founded in 2015. It also publishes comics and poetry. Can you introduce it to us?
The label was created by Ross and Léonie. Long before L'Écluse was founded, they started recording concerts by friends of theirs, to bear witness to what's going on in and around Strasbourg. The label works very much on emotional ties, it's not just about music. These are very small DIY editions, produced on CDRs at home.
However, these "handmade" records are beautiful objects, with their folded paper and their design.
They put a lot of care into them. I've organized concerts where musicians have been recorded by the label, and I've recorded for them myself. They're the ones who take care of the record, the object.
You record quite often, which seems to be necessary. Is it important for you to set milestones along the way?
Yes, I think it's important to keep a record. Ross and Léonie put a lot of effort into the plastic quality of their records. If it were up to me, I'd make do with cassettes and draw on them with felt-tip pens. What interests me most is the memory of the concert. Not necessarily a very faithful recording, but a trace that can evoke an impression or a feeling in someone who wasn't there: a testimony. These are often live recordings. Ross made a studio album, but the records are mostly concert recordings.
In your world, we often come across the name of another collective, with more or less the same musicians, notably cellist Stéphane Clor: Dreieck Interférences. What is this collective? What does the name mean? What's the difference with Kreis?
Dreieck Interférences is Stéphane's baby. It's an ensemble of some twenty musicians, mainly from Eastern France. Stéphane wanted to create a network rather than a group, open to experimentation, as he did during the first confinement, with the Compilations confinement. They brought together a number of artists from afar. It's a kind of reservoir of musicians, many of whom are improvisers, but also a structure for presenting projects. Kreis is a concert organization collective, with no associative structure. This collective really began around the hurdy-gurdy, with musical affinities. While Kreis has evolved beyond hurdy-gurdy and bagpipe drones, Dreieck is much more varied in its aesthetic appeal.
Can you tell me about the duo formed with Lisa Käuffert, Lise & Lisa, on Centre-France bagpipes?
I started playing with Lisa in 2014. We met at a vielle festival. We initially played ballroom repertoire, but I was trying out different tracks on the bagpipes at the time. My path on this instrument was pretty much the same as on the hurdy-gurdy: learning technique and then seeking out new experiences. When I met Lisa, I was looking to see if a combination of bagpipes would maximize the effect. We first played at La Mine, invited by Soleils bleus. We had prepared a piece with three or four notes, very repetitive, not extremely structured, leaving plenty of room for improvisation, while remaining in a rhythm. The influence of the bals could still be felt, with the bourrée rhythm very much in evidence, but combined with foreign motifs that created interactions between the two bagpipes, which had very similar sounds. At first, we were still very much into melody, which we gradually abandoned. I would explore different processes: altering pitches or discovering new timbres. We integrated these elements into the duo, playing with microtonality.
With L'Écluse or Lise & Lisa, you recently played at Météo in Mulhouse, Musique Action in Nancy and Musica in Strasbourg, three festivals that have historically been part of the avant-garde, in distinct fields: jazz, performance and improvisation music, and scholarly music. It seems to me that this is very revealing. Today, the chapels have fallen. How do you feel about that?
I confess I don't know much about "chapels". I do have the impression that this is a response to programmers' desire to avoid having artists from the same backgrounds and currents. Mathieu Schoenahl, then future director of the Météo festival , was present at L'Écluse's first concert at La Mine. He had witnessed the birth of the band, and had apparently kept in mind the idea of having us play somewhere. He was the first to suggest we play at a festival of this scale. He mentioned it to Olivier Perry, the director of Musique Action. On a personal note, I got closer to the Musica festival in Strasbourg, because I like to keep an eye on what's going on in my city and create links, and because the arrival of the new director, Stéphane Roth, marked the start of programming that interested me more. It seems that our work could also fit in, since we were invited to the closing concert of the last edition. Perhaps the effects of confinement have prompted the festival to program more local artists?
Interview by Guillaume Kosmicki