Votre recherche

Au sein de la province du Québec, la majorité des immigrants choisissent de vivre à Montréal et y forment des communautés au sein desquelles leurs pratiques musicales du pays d’origine perdurent au-delà du processus migratoire. Depuis trois ans, notre équipe de recherche travaille à Montréal auprès de diverses communautés issues de l’immigration pour comprendre comment le musical participe au « Vivre ensemble ». Nous émettons l’hypothèse que la musique est pour les immigrants un outil pertinent d’intégration et de négociation identitaire afin de vivre au sein d’une société conviviale et d’y contribuer. La perspective comparative qui est la nôtre vise à faire ressortir ce qui est privilégié selon les cas de figures par les communautés elles-mêmes tant au sujet des répertoires musicaux que des processus de reconstruction identitaires à travers la musique. Dans cet article, nous présenterons nos observations au sujet de la communauté issue de l’immigration roumaine et moldave. Le groupe ainsi nommé est loin de représenter une homogénéité quelconque en dehors de l’origine qui est mentionnée sur les fiches de données produites par Statistiques Canada. Nous nous appuyons sur des exemples précis issus de nos travaux de terrain auprès de cette communauté afin de démontrer que nous avons affaire à un cosmopolitisme musical qui trouve pleinement sa place et son expression dans un tel contexte urbain.

Quand Hubert Lenoir, lors de son entrevue à Tout le monde en parle, a déclaré : « J’ai un peu le goût de me crisser en feu ces temps-ci », s’attirant les remontrances des animateurs qui jugeaient de mauvais goût le fait de dire une telle chose à la télévision, et de surcroît sur un plateau où se trouvait un invité ayant déjà fait une tentative de suicide, cela a provoqué un certain émoi dans le public, et on reprocha d’un côté au chanteur de banaliser le suicide et de l’autre aux animateurs d’avoir banalisé la détresse peut-être tout à fait sérieuse de celui-ci. Plutôt que de prendre part à ce débat, ou encore de proposer des stratégies pour briser les tabous au sujet du suicide, je voudrais aborder la dimension littéraire de ce fameux malaise télévisuel, qui est liée au malaise de l’époque contemporaine face à ce que j’appellerai ici la mise en scène de l’affliction.

La chanson populaire constitue un moyen privilégié pour faire changer les perceptions et revoir l’image que nous avons construite des Premiers peuples et elle permet de redéfinir les relations entre Autochtones et Allochtones. C’est ce que démontre un parcours de la chanson populaire québécoise de 1960 à 2019, qu’il s’agisse de chansons d’Allochtones (Gilles Vigneault, les Séguin), de chansons d’Autochtones, surtout à partir du succès de Kashtin au début des années 1990, de Chloé Sainte-Marie qui choisit de chanter en innu-aimun, ou du métis Samian dans les années 2000 qui multiplie les collaborations, pour arriver à l’émergence d’une chanson autochtone au Québec.

Ethel Stark (1910-2012) was one of the most important conductors and concert violinists in Canada in the Twentieth century. This article highlights how an Austro-Canadian Jewish woman who lived outside the constraints of conventional domesticity, both navigated through and defied the ideals of the “Cult of True Womanhood” and spearheads a movement of feminism in music. I argue that Stark’s exposure to Jewish cultural traditions of social justice and womanhood in her childhood formed a critical dimension of her feminist activism later in her life, and in particular in the founding of The Montreal Women’s Symphony Orchestra (1940).

Dora Cojocaru is recognized as an outstanding representative of the Cluj school of composition, but also as a strong voice in Romanian musicology. While her musicological output includes books, studies, articles, radio programs, conference papers, master classes and scientific communication sessions, her most important contribution remains the book entitled Creația lui Gyӧrgy Ligeti în contextul stilistic al secolului XX [Gyӧrgy Ligeti's Work in the Stylistic Context of the Twentieth Century], which was the first book about Ligeti that appeared in the Romanian musicological landscape. Dora Cojocaru’s compositional portrait can be drawn by following the language characteristics and compositional devices used in the chamber cantata Dați-mi lampa lui Aladin [Give Me Aladdin's Lamp]. The composer’s work is characterised by a propensity for chamber music. The composer confesses that it is also a consequence of the fact that this genre comes with a plethora of expressive possibilities. In terms of the musical language used by the composer, its first characteristic is the concern to avoid repetition in expression and the variation of an already used musical material. This is strikingly evident in the chamber cantata Dați-mi lampa lui Aladin [Give Me Aladdin's Lamp]. Another peculiarity is the construction based on a developmental discourse, while a third characteristic is the frequent construction of the discourse based on an economy of means and on a musical material consisting of only a few notes. In the case of this cantata, it is essential to note the historical context, which is closely linked to the symbolic title suggesting the composer’s desperate desire to bring her brother back to life, although she is aware that this is only possible by magic. The composer’s choice of lyrics is derived from the fact that Trakl’s and Rilke’s texts allude to the theme of death, which is one of the frequent themes of late Expressionism, and are therefore pervaded by a tragic note, in tune with the composer’s musical intentions. If we follow the text-music relationship, we notice some extremely significant moments, in which music creates sonic images that are suggestive of the message of the text.

This paper presents an analysis of Annesley Black’s not thinking about the elephants (2018), for saxophone quartet and live electronics. Written for Montreal’s Quasar Saxophone Quartet, this work explores concepts of suppression and emergence through traditional musical dimensions such as melody, counterpoint, and form, but also through contemporary musical dimensions such as psychoacoustics (difference tones), theatrical elements, and live electronics. Black’s practice engages critically with the compositional process itself by formulating dialectic relationships between material and compositional strategies (both intuitive and systematic). This work encourages the listener to engage in a multidimensional listening experience where conceptual extremes become a catalyst for the building of narrative and tension.

Un article de la revue Circuit, diffusée par la plateforme Érudit.

Since the 1990s scholars, teachers, and policy makers have debated over the importance of culturally grounded or culture-based education (CBE) approaches in primary and secondary programmes. For Indigenous communities, CBE methods are often regarded as decolonising tools that support linguistic and sociocultural revitalisation efforts. A majority of Indigenous educational projects have prioritised teaching language above other cultural components, such as music, which has largely been overlooked as a powerful tool due to the pervasive assumption that traditional musical practices rely on the language to survive. This article explores how cultural components have a symbiotic rather than a hierarchical relationship, focusing on the interdependence between language and music. Based on ethnographic fieldwork and observations with four Indigenous language immersion teachers, I argue that music is a linchpin pedagogical tool that promotes intergenerational interactions, builds social relationships, and facilitates the daily use of language in and outside the classroom.

Radicada há mais de vinte anos na França e no Canadá, Bïa Krieger conquistou um público cativo nesses países, onde recebeu prêmios importantes, como o Grand Prix de l’Académie Charles Cros (França), Prix de l’Adisq (Canadá) e Félix du Meilleur Album Musiques du Monde (Canadá). Esta entrevista contempla o seu trabalho como versionista, com enfoque nas versões em francês para canções de Chico Buarque.

Notable radio scholars including Christine Ehrick, Phylis A. Johnson, and Caroline Mitchell have explored critical challenges of gender and sexuality radio research and its importance in relation to communities. A major issue faced in studying the early years of women’s history in broadcast is the ephemeral nature of the medium as many of the voices are lost in the ether, unrecorded or once deemed inessential to archive. Web-based radio and podcast archives provide renewed avenues for listening to lesbian and queer women’s radio across transnational borders yet many long running shows in Canada such as The Lesbian Show on Vancouver Co-Op Radio have only recently begun to surface as digital collections. As personal and institutional archives of lesbian and queer women radio begin to reach a public audience, analysis of radio works across decades of LGBTQ2+ activism and feminisms must be traced to understand the role of radio and digital radiogenic media in creating space and identity for queer activism. A turn to the past brings forward questions of analog and digital futures for radio and podcasting space as place to construct and shape queer and especially lesbian communities and identities in the North American broadcasting industry. Through research of notable live and pre-produced content including Dykes on Mykes on CKUT 90.3 FM, and The Lesbian Show on Vancouver Co-Op Radio, this work offers an exploration of radio and radiogenic media’s role in creating sonic space for queer and feminist subjectivities.

Our catalogue of journals

Réflexion sur la dépolitisation et l’éclaircissement du hip-hop lors de son passage dans la culture de masse.

The singer-songwriter Lhasa de Sela (1972-2010) launched her career and produced her three records in Montreal where she arrived in 1991. Not only did she change the face of migrant song in Quebec, but she also enjoyed international success, embarking on long world tours and selling more than a million records. This analysis will focus on the songs from her second album, The Living Road, and will show that Lhasa de Sela transcended linguistic and artistic frontiers by crossing the geographical border when she made Montreal her home and creative hub.

One of my favorite compilation CDs of the last few years is Unclassics: Obscure Electronic Funk and Disco, 1975–1985, released in 2004 on the Environ label. The thirteen tracks on Unclassics were collected and remixed by house/techno artist Morgan Geist, who offers them as all-but-forgotten dance music gems from just outside an Anglo-American musical axis, from places like Spain and Italy. The style that ostensibly unites these tracks is “Eurodisco,” though, as we shall see, that label does not accurately subsume all of them. “Italo-disco” seems an even cruder reduction, but circulates among critics, fans, and collectors as a meaningful label for much of the music gathered here. While some of the cuts on Unclassics have long been the idiosyncratic favorites of DJs or dance music collectors, more is going on here than the resurrection of cultish or neglected treasures. Unclassics is one milestone within the significant rehabilitation of European and Italian disco that has unfolded over the last decade. Mixed Up in the Hague, Vol. 1, a compilation first released privately in 1999, was a key event in this rehabilitation; other collections, like I-Robots: Italo Electro Disco Underground Classics and Confuzed Disco: A Retrospective of Italian Records, have followed. Zyx, the Germany-based label that dominated the field in the 1980s and early 1990s, is actively marketing dozens of compilations of its own Italo-disco from that period. The garish red and green covers of Zyx’s Italo anthologies, which filled the discount cassette bins of European airport stores fifteen years ago, have been redesigned so that they now look authoritative and curatorial. Radio and DJ sets devoted to this music now abound on the Internet. Think Italy. Without claiming mind-reading powers, it’s a comfortable prediction you’ve already got tacky piano sample records and frenzied all-night clubbing in mind, a nation that when it isn’t knocking out club records by the cartload likes nothing more than to party all night on a hillside by the sea. Italian music has been in and out of style more often than the flares revival. There are enough piew-piew-piew zaps during these 55 minutes to wipe out a small nation of roller skaters. For almost two decades, tracks like those collected on Unclassics held the status of morbid symptoms, reminders of the decay and dispersion of dance music in the years between disco and house music. Even as they reclaim these tracks as lost gems, the liner notes to Unclassics embrace that morbidity, relishing the ways in which so many of these pieces are seen to have gotten things wrong. My favorite track on Unclassics is a Spanish cut from 1979, “Margherita,” whose guiltless dishing out of pleasures betrays the compilation’s broader sensibility. Piercing little synth notes alternate with thick, rolling movements that could drive an army forward. Mariachi horns interweave with tinny keyboard glissandos in rounding out sections. Changes come precisely when we want them; each gimmicky sound or flourish dutifully returns just as we start to miss it. As “Margherita” moves in unstoppable fashion around its wheel of styles and sections, it is easy to think that this is music trying too desperately to be liked. Dominant understandings of the European contribution to disco read its influence selectively, focusing on the robotic, synthesized sounds of Kraftwerk or Giorgio Moroder. These versions of Eurodisco’s history link such figures as Can, Patrick Cowley, Afrika Bambaataa, and Juan Atkins in a heroic story that sends disco to Europe so that it may return, reinvented, to an American underground able to realize its radical potential. When Eurodisco is remembered for its sleek mechanical control, however, what gets forgotten is the lush extravagance that seemed to mark so much of it. As early as 1977, North American critics had recourse to a well-entrenched moral geography in characterizing disco music from continental Europe as “florid,” given to flamboyant passion and bombastic overlays of effects.1 Arguably, the peculiarity of so much Eurodisco came from the ways in which its extravagant lushness often went hand in hand...