Mother's new book

Another project which took many years before completion, my mother's new book Tales from Vietnam. My mother adopts a distanced attitude toward the whole thing, as if she isn't even connected to it.

"Oh whatever happens, happens! I don't expect much of it!" she likes to say. 

The publisher, a gentle and charming Chinese man asked her to collect and translate Vietnamese folk tales and compile them for a bilingual edition. For my mother, it was an opportunity to do what she loves best: play with words. However the deal wasn't a fair one. She would not receive any fee for her work, but a couple of hundreds of books. My mother being the discreet and shy person that she is, it won't be long before we would find her at the open air market trying to sell her books between the fish and the sausage stands.  

The slowly progressing Alzheimer disease and her forgetful nature didn't help either. She revised the book countless times and still there was mistakes and misspellings. On some morning she would start to rewrite everything then correct it all again the next week. The files went back from the publisher to her more than once, without anyone being satisfied. The publishing expected her to deliver the files ready for printing, but my mother didn't have the means nor the technical skills to do so. That went on for four good years. I decided to take the matters fully in hand last year. I took a couple of weeks to read and re-read the text, nearly turning mad as a hatter. Everyday I would correct new mistakes that have escaped my attentive eyes the previous day. I had Bévinda read it, as well as the publisher assistant, Rebecca. Each of them found new mistakes.

"There is no perfect book" I remember Claude Pinganaud saying. He was the director of a small Parisian publishing company called Arléa and, without a doubt, knew a couple of things about it.

The exchanges between the publisher, the printer and I went on until the very last minute, when in Hong Kong last spring, I managed to one ultimate misspelling on a Vietnamese name. Shall I consider everything is fine now? It's too late to go back. The books have been shipped from Hong Kong where they were printed, to Paris. I was overjoyed when the publisher's assistant shared the news last month. 

My mother as usual, acted as if the matter wasn't more than buying an egg at the convenient store. I was happy, relieved and decided to push the whole thing one step further: organise a reading to launch the book. Isabelle and Vanessa immediately answered the call, and the Galerie Talmart where I organised a screening of Les Contes d'Hoffmann last March, was booked. 

The big day is in a little less than one month. Isabelle has picked three tales to read, and Vanessa will provide an improvised musical accompaniment on the piano.

   

I am quite certain the accolades my mother will receive when the book is released will be a source of great joy for her. However I have pushed her to start a new project. It's important that she has something to look forward to. My father knows he has no influence over her. So it is my duty to try to maintain a certain momentum in her life.
The new project has already been clear in my head for a couple of years now: a coffee-table book of Hang Mac Tu's poems that she has translated (he is her favourite poet) with beautiful photographs by my friend Yves Schiepek. 

And I would like to introduce that project during the reading in September.... My way to celebrate my parents' 80th birthday.

Make a wish...

I had just sent a letter to my father saying that I didn't see how I could possibly come to Paris to celebrate his and my mother's 80th birthday as well as my mother's book presentation, given the pitiful state of my finances. The three-month stay permit in Taiwan was coming to a close and I had buy a ticket to somewhere (Bangkok? Hong Kong? Singapore? Kuala Lumpur?), pay rents and bills... With practically nothing but long term projects in the horizon, I was beginning to freak out. Just beginning to...

"Unless there's a miracle, I don't think I will be able to come to Paris in September" I wrote.

A miracle... As I was walking outside on my way to the nearby buffet restaurant, I gave the word some thought. What kind of miracle could happen? How? I was resigning myself to the idea, almost feeling relieved not to go, planning alternatives to be there virtually. 

Things cleared up when I came back after lunch. I was having a chat with Dennis' partner François, recalling my first terrifying encounter with his mother last winter during one of their 'catholic' family dinners. After 20 years, François told me, she had finally showed her full acceptance of her Japanese daughter-in-law in the form of a wooden napkin ring with her name engraved on it! 

"Five more years for Dennis before he gets his" François joked. 

"Twenty years... It could be a saga like The Lord of the Ring..." I added. 

The conversation went on for a while until I told François that chances were that I may not come to Paris after all.

"Does this mean that you want to do like Kate Torralba and use my miles to come to Paris?" he asked.

The question left me speechless for a moment. Kate came to Europe in June to promote her new album with a series of small gigs in Paris and London. 

"Yes, I sponsored her last trip to Europe. I gave her my miles"

"That is so noble of you... She fully deserves it!" I knew what he was getting at, but didn't want, couldn't believe it. 

"You'd deserve it too. In exchange of a song for my hubby, if that can inspire you..."
Yes a miracle.

When Doves Fly

Shang-Sing just sent me his final draft of When Doves Fly, his new and first long feature film. The producer and he had approached me a couple of months ago to have me on board as the composer. I really liked Shang-Sing's first short film he did two years ago, How I learned to tell a lie. His style oscillates between bittersweet humour and coming-of-age drama. I particularly like the way he always manage to walk on the rope and always keep the balance. That reflect the person he is: witty, melancholic, sarcastic and profoundly humane. When Doves Fly seems to follow the same thread as his first film, even though he didn't write the screenplay. But somehow he managed to make it his own. 

There are still some holes in the story. I shall meet with him to discuss that. The score will require a couple of song to be written. As soon as I was told the story, I immediately started hearing some guitar-laden music, in the style of what Ry Cooder did for Wim Wenders' Paris Texas albeit from an Asian perspective. When Doves Fly will be a road movie about two American blokes who end up in Taiwan by mistake, thinking they are in Thailand, that is one of them does, for the other is on a personal quest that he keeps secret until the later part of the film.

The film will be funded by a Taiwanese TV channel, but they hope to turn it into a full-fledge film and release it theatrically. Apparently, that's how many Taiwanese films are made.

Shooting is set for October. Casting is not yet done. I hope I won't just have one week to write and record all the music! 

I'm happy to work for films. Working for dance has lost of its appeal to me. After Les Contes d'Hoffmann with Jo Kanamori in 2010, most of the contemporary dance projects with the exception of Double Yellow Line and Winterreise last year, have proved fairly underwhelming. 

I had written to Bryan Kuo to have some updates regarding his film Pierre est heureux and it seems the film will be shelved again for some time. I wrote the music two years ago, and the film was done more than six years ago. I won't take a fortune teller to understand that Bryan must have some personal issues connected to that film and many more years may go by before he finds the courage to bring his baby to the world. I have recently befriended a friend who has known Bryan since the time they were in high school and I wasn't so surprised to learn that the screenplay found lots of its material from Bryan's personal life and family issues. 

Maybe I should encourage him to walk the last mile and take the dive. 

Meanwhile, the song To the Sun, which was written for the film, will have its own life when the music video is edited! Jay just gave me a software which will allow me to do the editing while Zed is away. 

Another tool to become more independant!

Shang-Shin and Bibbe Hansen in New York. 

Night time

Our two bodies lying side by side, at night. Both in half sleep, at time waking up to feel the presence of the other body, one hand running through his chest before falling back into slumber. That's how I used to feel as a trainee in love on my first dates and nights spent at lovers' house, and that's how I was feeling now, more than twenty years later, to my greatest surprise. An epic night time adventure, with each minute bringing a sense of wonder, when our mind is put to sleep and boundaries between the actual and the possible are blurred. Never to get jaded!
Two weeks have gone by after this hot night at the bath house before I could meet Terry / Xiao Sue again. William is still haunting me, but I full-heartedly welcomed this one night with someone else - I realise that I seldom spend the night with anyone now. And it was pleasant to feel like a novice in love again. William recently wrote to me that it was precisely what he would enjoy whenever we would meet. To be reconnected to the feeling again.   

Being a hardworking maths teacher, Xiao Sue only could reach Taipei at around midnight! Late but not too late since we had time the next morning. 

Waiting at midnight at any train station can be a depressing experience. Hardly any one in sight. The few people left run to catch their last train. Tramps sleep on the bench outside. Elderly ladies push a cart containing the loot of the day: paper, cardboard and anything made of plastic to be sold to recycling companies. Arduous and thankless work. I can't help admiring them. 

Xiao Sue appeared at last with a puzzled look on his face. Communication is limited between us. His English isn't that advanced.

Nightmarket. It was past midnight. Most of the food stalls were closing. We got a bowl of rice soup, pieces of dried fish on the plate, leftovers of an omelet. The food was terrible. The owner was certainly not so convinced that the food he was selling us was the best in town, but we were hungry and ate with appetite. We then stopped at the 7eleven to get some drinks - tea and energy drinks... we needed that! Back at my place. Ryan and Wassir were already sleeping (early nights are a rare thing with them). It had been a hot week. I told Xiao Sue to take a shower first. I couldn't resist joining him. He startled when I opened the door. An intruder in my own house! As tacky as it may seem, taking a shower with someone is certainly one of the most erotic thing. There's that sense of extreme vulnerability and abandon - trust.

Three years

Three years ago, in early August, a freshly turned-forty Parisian-born Vietnamese man named An Ton That landed in Taipei. This wasn't his first time. He had previously come to Taipei on several occasions the preceding couple of years, but that particular time was special: his new life was to begin there.

Three years, intense and challenging, to say the least. But never did I allow the thought of a possible return to Paris. Whatever would happen, I'd have to keep on. The first year and a half was hard on me. I had left Paris without truly realising where I was heading to. I had travelled a lot, and would spent longer time abroad, each time, but my home was still in Paris. I would wake up some morning, wondering where I was. Paris? Tokyo? Any other city? Only slowly would my eyes recognise what was around me, the room where I had spent the night, the photos on the wall, the ceiling... Yes, my home in Taipei! It still happens. Very recently, it took me a full minute to remember where I was after I opened my eyes. A full sixty seconds when my state of slumber had not totally yielded way to the 'real' world of the awakens. I didn't recognise anything. Is it how one feels after death, - if 'feeling' can be the accurate word to use in that case...?

I want to make a celebration. Three years represent a cycle for me. Yet, I'm still not officially a resident here. My status as music composer does not fit any category.No company can hire me as they would hire engineers, bankers or teacher, so I still have to leave the country every three months, which is actually fine with me for I do have to leave the country regularly for my projects  - on the first year, it was every month!!!

Much as I enjoy my life here on this island, I can't say that work has been that exciting. My collaboration with HuangYi, especially Double Yellow Line would be what first springs to my mind. Compared to my work with Jo, it's of a modest scale. My work for film is starting to flourish. Two long features to score this autumn. The first one, Pierre est heureux is still in limbo and I begin to wonder if it will ever be finished...

But I have met Jay Chern, who is an up and coming young director. He does know how to tell a story and how to hold a camera. Our first long feature together will be Like a Thief. Having done music for all the shorts he has done the past couple of years - eight in total!!! I believe the long feature will be a fulfilling collaboration. Jay is currently finishing the screenplay. He wishes to work on the music first. Shooting will commence in December, probably...

So it seems that my work is veering toward the visual field. When the To the Sun MV is done, I shall start working on the next two ones: Who We Be and Love Profusion. Who We Be will be a dance video experiment, and involve three hip hop dancers, a white background, me in a black suit and blindfolded, and nine persons squeezed in a square and jumping in rhythm. I was supposed to start rehearsing with the choreographer last month but there isn't a busier person than he.

So I find myself with more projects that I could imagine. The difference with the younger An is that all these projects are coming to life these coming months.

I have met people recently who push me to publish my photographic work in a book. I planned to do an exhibition this summer, again with Adrian, but after the unsuccessful attempt at creating a true gallery at the Empress Lounge, I have also realised that it was time for me to take my non-musical work more seriously. They deserve better than student-like projects which will be burried by other similar student-like projects.
So a book it will be. Having an exhibition to launch the book will be a wiser move. Jin, who helps me set up my artist collective in Taipei, has advised me to look for a gallery to represent my work.
So the book, the record, the MV, the artist collective, the novel, the opera... I should clone myself!
No one can blame me for being lazy!

Một ngày như mọi ngày

Damien (Brachet) has asked me to shoot a short video to introduce myself and the song Một ngày như mọi ngày, which he had selected to feature on Asia Deep, a compilation album which will present Asian artists from the underground scene: Japan, Taiwan, Thailand, Hong Kong, China, Singapore and Vietnam which is oddly represented by myself. For all the years I have known him - nearly a decade now that I think of it, Damien had nurtured that project. That's actually the reason why he approached me at the very beginning. We became friends but he always has in mind projects which may involve all the people whose work he appreciates.

Một ngày như mọi ngày was part of the soundtrack of my childhood. My mother had a tape of Trịnh Công Sơn songs which she had bought at Thanh bình, the only shop in Paris in the early 70's which would sell Vietnamese products. Khánh Ly was Trịnh Công Sơn's muse and was the first one to record his songs. Just her voice and he playing the guitar. Simple, rough and poignant. Hers is one of the most distinctively beautiful voice in Vietnamese popular music. I had no idea what she was singing about, but the songs all had this poetic sadness - Trịnh Công Sơn was dubbed the Vietnamese Bob Dylan after all, and we were still in the middle of the Vietnam War. I remember my parents trying to catch the news on the TV. I can imagine how much they must have suffered watching their home country falling apart in front of their eyes on that small black and white TV screen.
  

Asia Deep is produced by a French small label called Pschent, which is known to the public by the popular Buddha Bar and Hôtel Costes series. After seeing the cover design they have done for the present release, I'm afraid it will give people the wrong notion that it will just be another of those lounge music collections with no edge... Damien is fighting and struggling with the DA to change the artwork. But what do you expect when you have a bunch of blokes who want to release an album of Asian music when they themselves know nothing about Asia except the usual clichés....? 

 I listened to what I have done with the song and I must say that even 15 years after, I'm still happy about it and quite surprised it doesn't sound dated - just pardon my awful Vietnamese pronunciation!

The video combines footages I have from Taipei, my home and Đà Lạt in Vietnam. Shot in black & white, natürlich!!!!

At the Couvent des Oiseaux, Đà Lạt 

Watch:
Một ngày như mọi ngày - Trailer

My dancer friend Thang Dao will play the song to Khánh Ly. I really would love to do a project with her. The idea had grown in my head years and years ago...

"Hurry, her time is running out! She's nearly 70!!! But she still sings superbly" Thang said

I had written to Trịnh Công Sơn back in 1998, asking him permission to do new arrangements on two of his songs. He kindly replied and gave me his blessing. I was allowed to do whatever I wanted, he wrote. Alas he died before I could send him the finished recording. 

Exercice de Style

I just finished arranging two Vietnamese songs for string quartet. Kiêt, who was my contact for the Thanh Giong project in Berlin asked me as a favour to score those two songs for him and three other players from the Berliner Symphoniker. There was to be a concert in Postdam and they wanted to put two Vietnamese songs in the program. 

One was fairly easy to score, but the other followed some typical local tone which was difficult to transpose for a Western instrument. I tried my best to respect the melodic line and harmonise the songs in a way that didn't alter them too much. 

But it was the occasion for me to use a music scoring software for the very first time. Until now, I had been very old school: music paper, a pencil and an eraser were what I would need (to my musicians' despair)

Now the musicians have the score. They should be rehearsing tomorrow for a concert in Postdam the following day. I have no clue what else they will play. I hope they'll make a recording. So far, I still hear those horrible midi string sounds in my head and that's beyond awful! I'm currently washing my ears clean with some Haydn's string quartets. 

I now want to write more for strings. I have told my cellist friend Emily I wanted to write a piece for her and her trio. Maybe now is the time...

But my next task will be to do the editing of To the Sun. Adrian kindly offered to help me. We shall start next week, when I receive the software (another one!) 

Welcome to the modern world!!!!