Although I love the foot-stomping, fiddle wielding power of French-Canadian musicians, I’m always a little hesitant to go to a show of solely Francophone music. Perhaps its my lack of French skills (cereal-box French isn’t real French) that intimidates me. Or my suspicious nature causing me always to wonder if I’ve missed a joke, or exactly what the words the musicians want the audience to sing mean. Vishtèn‘s concert at St. Albert’s Arden Theatre helped me put those fears in their place.
Vishtèn wasted no time with half-hearted pleasantries, simply coming out onto the stage and playing. The concert began with an instrumental tune that featured a configuration of the LeBlanc twins (Emmanuelle & Pastelle) flanking Pascal Miousse’s central space on the stage. This arrangement that remained constant only switching when one of the LeBlancs would move to the keyboard.
Almost immediately we (the audience) were called on to participate—cue fear #1—with “Tobie Lapierre”. My uncertainty was almost instantaneously quashed by a quick explanation of the story: Tobie LaPierre, who loves dancing, women & whisky, loses his wife in the woods and uses a bell to try to locate her. The audience was going to be singing the bell part—this, I thought, I can do.
Apparently many others in the audience either did not share my fear of singing something silly in French (as they spoke the language) or they too were calmed by Vishtèn’s patient duo-lingo explanations, because the audience chorus was substantial. The concert continued that way, with Vishtèn slipping seamlessly between French and English, explaining the histories of their tunes—from a flat tire on the Massachusetts turnpike to a magical bus trip in the Shetlands. This kept me happy as I never felt like I was missing out on something because my French isn’t much more developed than flocons de maïs.
Vishtèn shared not just the stories of their own tunes, but also brought out elements of their Acadian culture while simultaneously drawing us into the performance. Periodically Pascal would ask us if we were enjoying ourselves, reminding us that it was important to have a good time. Every iteration of this question (always met with a resounding “Yeah/Oui”) reminded me of the kitchen parties in PEI and the Magdalens that they had told us about. Emmanuelle also told us a tale about the subversive development of foot stomping percussion—something about being able to hide the dancing under the table, so anyone walking by would just see people in the house sitting at a table (not people dancing and having fun). When the LeBlanc twins pulled their chairs to the front of the stage and performed a complex dance-song (how can I even describe the pounding polyrhythmes their feet made?) and included us with snapping and clapping instructions, Vishtèn made us part of the performance.
The members of Vishtèn have a genius for making you feel like you are taking part in a centuries old Acadian culture, rather than just watching or hearing it. This is the start of their Western dates, and more details about their tour can be found on their website, try and catch a show, especially if you—like me—have always been a little uncertain about attending shows where you don’t speak the main language of the performers.