Fransec Sans: December 2021 Artist of the Month

 

 

FRANSEC SANS

L’Infiniti (The Infinite)

 

 

December’s Artist of the Month Fransec Sans brings something different to your playlist. He’s a Catalan sac de gemecs player. In English, that’s the Catalan bagpipes, a three-drone kit that looks a lot like a set of Highland pipes, but has a slightly more melodic and brighter sound. On his debut album L’Infiniti, Sans uses old tunes as his inspiration and arranges them for the 21^st century. Call it nouveau medieval court and village material. The bagpipes are front and center, but the album also includes guitar, bass, piano, lute, flute, harp, violin, squeeze boxes, vocals, and percussion.

 

The entire album can be sampled online, but here are a few I think are typical. “Tres Tocs, un Cant” has a big production opening that soars, swells, and sounds positively anthemic.  Abruptly, it transforms into something akin to a community celebration. You can almost paint the picture in your head, but just as swiftly it revives the formal structure of the opening, before doubling back to the gala. Background vocalizations help drive the alternating moods.

 

“JNavarro” has a more distinct Catalan rural pulse that’s enhanced with offbeat percussion that’s sometimes deliberately and literally the case. The middle section is a chase-the-tail-around-the-circle structure that could be the soundtrack for a caper film. Listen carefully for the short, but effective lute passages. Sans often opens formal and slips into patterns freer and informal. He does this again on “El Meu Sud,” whose opening is mysterious, moody, and flute-driven. For lack of a better descriptor I call it enigmatic pastoralism. Again, though, the piece is instantly enlivened when air blows through the chanter and drones. Josep Aparicio’s call-and-response vocals add further color. The opening half of “Dolors Gegante” is atmospheric and wintery in feel when Albert Carbonell puts bow to violin strings, but the pipes usher in a fast-paced piece evocative of a springtime dance fest, complete with clicking castanets. Catalan dances are often ¾ time jotas or rumbas that occasionally drift into 6/8 tempo. That’s because latter not analogs to Cuban rumbas, rather faster-paced Spanish tunes called guarachas.  

 

Catalan dance is so ebullient that participants hurl themselves airborne. They also frequently feature vocals. More on this in a moment, but let me first note another unique feature of this album, its percussive mix of the tombril, a skin drum that’s a bit like a bodhran. Sans and his collaborators engage in some global beats when they blend it with bongos. “Amoretes” is a bit of a switcheroo in that it’s a lively dance tune from the start, courtesy of accordion from Carlos Belda and then goes briefly darker before surrendering to spirited abandon. Just before the end, they switch again for a few seconds of a quiet, slower pace before taking us out with a flourish. 

 

“Desperta'm” isn’t on the album, but you might enjoy the video of this short piece. It’s set in the woods during and after a thunderstorm and the piping sounds as if it could be a requiem for the trees, though it suggests hope for renewal at the end. It’s fun to see a mud-covered Sans maintain his composure, which is a neat trick for a guy whose favored sartorial getup is to dress in white!

 

For my taste, the only downside of the record occurs when Mariona Escoda sings. She is talented, but the quality of her voice simply doesn’t connect with me. On “Les Quintes” she warbles a jazzy tune whose high register sounds like a Japanese bird. This, I hasten, is a reflection of personal preference, so you should listen and feel free to disagree. Loving those bagpipes, though!

 

Rob Weir