Before one can talk of reunion, a meeting must first take place. Each time, the conversation must go beyond social niceties such as talking about the weather. When two people meet, it represents a moment of mutual and co-operative interchange. They confide in one another, listen to one another, each revealing the language, the history, and the passions past and present of the other. The meeting is a moment of reciprocity. Through a series of crosschecks, they find a common language, shared reminiscences and familiar chinks. At the same time, these meetings expose differences, hiatus, and complementarities. Only then can they talk about the weather. When a reunion happens, there is so much to say that it takes all night to explore and celebrate their common past (that which goes back to the meeting, that which still largely unexplored will always precede it), to bring it into the present, and to assign it to the future in the form of a creative flourish. This album charts in sound the reunion between Lucien Dubuis and Christophe Studer - it is more than a simple dialogue. It is a common and multifaceted song which looks to the future as it meanders through the past. The elements which feed and fed the creative process sometimes reappear in a way that sounds crude to our ear. Roars, bangs and the stridency of the reed offer a rejoinder to the modulations of the legendary Moog synthesiser; the resonant and jazzy riffs are enveloped by the undulating and highly-polished strata of the Fender Rhodes; a grand piano carries off the free arabesques of an acrobatic clarinet in a quasi-romantic whirlwind. Their improvisation delves into themes that are reduced at turns to mere jingles, an original yet strangely familiar moulding, making them explode or drift subtly away. But just as our ears have become attuned to abstraction, snatches of a folksy waltz or of a tango from a silent movie subliminally summon up an image of childhood. As if seeping out from under the floorboards, the clarinet and Fender Rhodes join forces to give shape to the hyper-saturated, bluesy sound of the guitar. Not to mention, the implicit presence of funky beats. As we listen to the tracks, we become increasingly aware of the imagery-laden dimension of the music of Dubuis and Studer. The images are not specific. Instead, several passages act as signposts to the music and sounds of our time. The material, gathered here and there, that makes up this creative patchwork is in reality condensed impressions with multiple references. And suddenly, spurred on by their creativity, we find ourselves actively participating in this reunion, listening to them, and talking to them about the weather. "What do you make of it, Madame Chili?" Blaise DuPasquier, 2004 (English translation by Transit)