Bring the buttons and keys to life
It’s 11:00 AM Saturday morning. The air is very chilly by the stone wall below the Vodocet at Vyton. I’m now into the trio of Tony Murena’s “Indifference” and coins have been dropping into my case at a steady rate. My fingers feel pretty sluggish from the cold, but I’m getting through the difficult parts without too much trouble and people are obviously enjoying it. Continue reading
The extravagant dance called cancan always stirred up the visitors at the Moulin Rouge cabaret in the poor neighbourhod of Montmartre in Paris. Even though the prudish society prohibited it at first, the dance captivated everyone later on and became a common form of entertainment and amusement.
La Der des Der, a song by a French singer named Fréhel, will seize you with its clear melody and buoyance. Its name derives from French “la dernière des dernières“, which can be translated as “the last of the last”. If you look deeper into its history, you’ll also find that there are interesting facts which mingle in it. Continue reading
The waves are roaring outside, but at home, in a small stony cottage, there’s no wind and all is well in mummy’s arms. The small Yannick – or Dewi or Marzhin, who knows – will grow up one day and get used to being lulled to sleep by the sway of a ship’s deck, but these days, he can still slumber in a dry and warm room, listening to a swinging song.
To record this song in an authentic manner, our singer Eliška Sýkorová from Chouette Chevêchette got herself a waitress’s job in a café. She’d waited there for about two months, until at last they came… Continue reading
Four compositions inspired by the music of French Brittany. You can listen to the arranged versions of these pieces on the albums and at the concerts of his music group Bran. The recordings available here were recorded by Tomáš for instructional purposes.
It was evening, Prague was glowing somewhere down there and I gladly listened to a recital to the memory of Edith Piaf on TV. Gloomy crimson chansons in 3/4 rhythm corresponded perfectly to the colour of wine in my glass, yet suddenly – lo! A change of rhythm… and a fleet-foot song La goualante du pauvre Jean sent me to my accordion.