moreno boleró

7/22/2019 Moreno Boler

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MorenoMoreno Bolro

Musiques manouches daujourdhui / Gypsy Music from today


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e suis n en 1963 a la frontire allemande entre Sarguemines etSaarbrck. Pour nous autres, manouches de lest, peu importe que lon soit dunpays ou de lautre. Nous navons pas de frontire. Curieusement, pour certainsmanouches ns en rgion parisienne, nous faisons un peu figure dtrangers. Nousparlons encore le rom alors que dans certaines familles la langue sest parfois

perdue. Jai pass ma jeunesse voyager entre lAlsace et les Saintes-Maries dela Mer. Certains hivers ont t trs rudes et peu peu on sest sdentaris. Notrefamille sest installe dans une HLM mais nous avons gard la caravane pourlt. Le besoin de bourlinguer tait toujours l. Tout comme la musique. Mestrois frres, Angelo, Barro et Tonino, jouaient de la guitare et jai commenc

laccompagnement de faon naturelle. Jai perdu mon pre trs tt mais aussiloin que je me souvienne, je le revois galement avec une guitare. Mes frresans mont transmis leur savoir. Il suffisait douvrir les oreilles, dobserver,dessayer de reproduire les doigts. Parfois, lenseignement tait dur et je me prenaisquelques coups sur les mains quand je faisais une erreur mais ils ont vite remarqu

que jtais dou. Il faut dire que je ne pensais qu a. Le soir, lorsquil y avaitune fte entre guitaristes, je faisais semblant de dormir dans la caravane mais jeme tenais lafft derrire la lucarne. Ds que je voyais un accord inconnu, jereproduisais la position des doigts sur mon avant-bras gauche puis je prenais maguitare qui tait toujours cache ct de moi et, tout en restant allong, je plaquais

les accords en silence. Personne ntait au courant. videmment, comme beaucoupdautres guitaristes en herbe, jcoutais Django. Jai encore les disques qui mont

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servi tudier, tous rays force de reculer laiguille. Mais je les garde commedes reliques.

Je suis ensuite parti faire la manche dans des petits cafs de la rgionde Toulon. Un jour, je jouais une terrasse de bistro et je vois passer un petitmonsieur bien habill avec costume, moustache et chapeau. Il maborde et me dit : Tu viens dAlsace, a se sent ta manire de jouer. Ctait Tchan Tchou : unguitariste manouche que lon a baptis ainsi cause de ses yeux brids et de son

air un peu chinois. Tchan Tchou tait un personnage dont javais toujours entenduparl, que javais cout sur disques et que javais souvent rv de rencontrer. Pourparler de cet homme, il me faudrait des heures. Le soir mme de notre rencontre,nous avons fait le buf ensemble et il y a eu aussitt une forte complicit. Jtaisnerveux et trs impressionn. Quand il faisait deux notes, jen faisais dix. Mais jai

vite compris que je ntais pas la hauteur, que jtais encore un jeune chien foualors que lui prenait le temps de poser tranquillement ses phrases. Jai dcid derester Toulon, je me suis install dans une caravane et je lai accompagn pendantprs de quatre ans. Il ma appris lessentiel, notamment lart de la valse, le sensde la mesure, la musicalit dun phras. Cest quand on est spar dun homme

comme lui, que lon ne joue plus avec lui directement que lon ralise pleinementtout ce quil a pu transmettre. Encore aujourdhui je pense sa manire de joueret je le garde en rfrence. Dans une vie de musicien, cest une norme chance detrouver un matre comme Tchan Tchou.

Lorsque je suis mont Paris, les gens ont t surpris par mon style, un

mlange de mes racines de lest et de linfluence sudiste de Tchan Tchou. Jai

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cum les restaurants, les clubs de jazz, essentiellement le milieu de la musiquemanouche. Paris est une ville terrible, il faut constamment faire ses preuves,relever les dfis, marquer son territoire et savoir garder son public. Il faut aussi

savoir sentourer, trouver les partenaires qui comprennent ce que lon veut faire.Cest un parcours de longue haleine. Il y a des rencontres dterminantes, commecelle de Maurice Dupont, un luthier install Cognac et qui mrite dtre davan-tage connu. Il fait un magnifique travail et, surtout, il sait couter et sadapteraux besoins de chaque musicien. Grce lui, je pense avoir enfin une guitare qui

corresponde ma personnalit. La relation son instrument est fondamentale. Carle plus important est de trouver son identit, sa vraie coloration sonore, de ne pasperdre ce que lon a en soi, toutes les choses que lon a exprimer. Dans notremusique, quand on a la fonction de soliste il ne faut jamais oublier que lon parleau nom dun peuple, que lon raconte une histoire et quil faut faire honneur ses

racines. Il y a aussi quelque chose de religieux dans le partage des motions et lacommunication avec les autres. Chez nous, on pense que la musique est un donde Dieu et quand on trouve la note exacte, le son juste, lharmonie parfaite dansle groupe, on se sent parfois touch par la grce. Il y a une force et un mystre quinous chappent.

Propos recueillis par Nol Balen

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Merci Alain Antonietto pour son aide prcieuse. M.P.


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was born in 1963 on the French-German border, between

Sarguemines and Saarbrck. For us gypsies of the East, it doesnt matter if were

from one country or another. We have no borders. Funnily enough, for certain

gypsies born in the Paris are, we are foreigners. We still speak rom whereas in a

lot of the families around Paris, the language is often just about lost. I spent my

childhood travelling between the Alsace region and Saintes Marie de la Mer. Some

winters were pretty harsh and little by little we settled down. Our family moved

into a social housing flat but we kept the camper for the summers. The need to

move was always there. Like music. My three brothers, Angelo, Barro and Tonino

played guitar and it was only natural that I accompany them. My father died when

I was very young, but as far as I can remember he always had a guitar with him.

My older brothers taught me all they knew. All I had to do was open my ears,

watch and try to copy the finger positions. Sometimes they were hard with me and

they would slap my hands when I made a mistake, but they quickly saw that I was

talented. I must say that all I thought about was playing the guitar. At night, when

there would be guitar parties, I would pretend to be asleep in the camper and

would watch carefully from behind the window. When I saw a chord I didnt know

I would quickly reproduce the finger positions on my left forearm. Then I would

take my guitar that I always hid next to my bed and silently press the chords while

lying in my bed. Nobody knew. Of course, like many young guitarists I listened to

Django. I still have the records that used to study, scratched from so much playing.

But I still keep them as relics.

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Then I busked in the cafs around Toulon. One day I was playing at a

terrace caf when a short, well-dressed man, wearing a hat and a moustache, came

up to me. He said, Youre from Alsace. I can tell by the way you play. It was

Tchan Tchou, a gypsy guitarist who got his nickname because of his slanted eyes.

I had hear a lot about Tchan Tchou and had listened to his records. I had often

dreamed of meeting him. I could talk for hours about him. The same night we met,

we played together and immediately hit it off. I was nervous and very impressed by

him. He played two notes for ten of my own. I quickly understood that I was nothing

next to him. I was like a young puppy jumping around like crazy while he took his

time to carefully place his phrases. I decided to stay in Toulon. I found myself a

camper and accompanied him for four years. He taught me the basics, in particu-

lar the art of waltzes, the notion of measure and the musicality of a phrase. It is

when you are separated from someone like that you realise how much you learnedfrom them. Today I still think of how he played and he remains a reference. I was

extremely lucky to have met with someone like Tchan Tchou.

When I first came to Paris, people were surprised by my style of playing

that was the result of the blend of my roots from the East and the Southerninfluence of Tchan Tchou. I combed the restaurants and jazz clubs, mostly in gypsy

music circles. Paris is a terrible city. You constantly have to prove yourself, take

up challenges, mark your territory and work at keeping your public. You also have

to know how to find partners who understand what you want to do. Its a long road.

There are also encounters which make the difference, like with Maurice Dupont, a

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stringed-instrument maker in Cognac who deserves to be more widely known. He

does beautiful work and, above all, knows how to listen and adapt to the needs of

each musician. Thanks to him, I think I finally have the guitar that fits my persona-

lity. The relation with the instrument is fundamental. What is most important is to

find ones identity, ones own sound, not to lose what you have inside you, all the

things that you want to express. In our music, when you are a soloist, you always

have to remember that you are talking in the name of a people, that you are telling

a story and that you must honor your roots. There is something religious about

sharing your feelings and communicating to others. For us, music is a gift of Godand when you find the right note, the right sound, perfect harmony in a group, then

you feel like you have been touched by the grace of God. There is a force and a

mystery that are beyond us.

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... Tchan-Tchou (Moreno)

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