Anouk Genthon of Tangent Mek about Improvisation
When Anouk Genthon speaks about the debut album of trio Tangent Mek, she recounts how improvisation guided composition and how important sound was to their overall vision. But she also mentions conversations, travels, and memories – it's a radical ritual with a gentle induction.
Name: Anouck Genthon
Nationality: French, Switzerland-based
Occupation: Composer, violinist, ethnomusicologist
Current release: As part of her trio Tangent Mek with Anna-Kaisa Meklin (viola da gamba) and Marina Tantanozi (flutes, voice), Anouck Genthon's has a new album out - Immutable Traveler - via Carton. She is also part of the 25-member band Le UN, whose triple-CD release 25 pièces sans vide is out via UNREC.
If you enjoyed this Anouck Genthon interview and would like to stay up to date with her music, visit her official homepage. She is also on Instagram, and Facebook.
For a deeper dive, read our earlier Anouck Genthon interview about her creative process.
Tell me about your instrument and/or tools, please. What made you seek it out, what makes it “your” instrument, and what are some of the most important aspects of playing it?
As a trio, we tend to think of our “instrument” as the collective sound we create together — something that has evolved and transformed over years of collaboration.
It is not only about the individual instruments we play, but about a shared way of listening, interacting and relating to each other’s sound. Through this process, the three voices gradually merge into one, forming a sonic identity that feels deeply personal to us.
This is what makes it “an instrument” in its own right: a unified sound without hierarchy, where three distinct identities coexist and blend. It has been moulded over time through playing, traveling, experimenting, laughing, and simply growing older together.
As for the essential aspects of playing it, we would highlight space, harmonics, acoustics, friction, and the constant attention to balance and presence within the group.
Derek Bailey defined improvising as the search for material which is endlessly transformable. What kind of materials have turned out to be particularly transformable and stimulating for you?
We believe that this idea of perpetual transformation is a fundamental aspect of the living world, not something that belongs only to music. When you watch a river flowing, for example, it becomes clear that the current is, in many ways, always similar, yet never the same.
If we were to point to a specific material in relation to our playing, we would mention our long-term exploration of harmonics — a material we are particularly drawn to and continue to develop across several pieces. Harmonics quickly became a vivid source of inspiration: a crystalline, almost celestial sound, floating in the air, with something nearly magical in the way it comes into being.
The Viola da gamba offers a particularly rich harmonic spectrum, while the flutes and violin each bring their own distinct qualities and possibilities.
After spending countless hours working on these sounds—searching for them, coaxing them into resonance—it became clear that the further we go in this sonic exploration, the more the field expands and opens up, with new combinations constantly emerging.
Everything is in continuous transformation: under the fingers, but also in response to the space in which this sound material unfolds. Additionally, the weather conditions strongly influence how the sound is transmitted: it is a fragile, unstable material, one that continually brings us back to the acoustic space and the act of listening itself.
Do you feel as though there are at least elements of composition and improvisation which are entirely unique to each? When you're improvising, does it actually feel like you're inventing something on the spot – or are you inventively re-arranging patterns from preparations, practise or previous performances?
In our case, composition and improvisation are closely linked.
After many years of improvising together, we reached a point where we felt the need to move toward composition. In a sense, these compositions were only possible because of the long period of shared improvisation that preceded them. The compositional process itself often involved revisiting and reshaping patterns that had emerged through improvisation.
This is, of course, a particular way of composing collectively, but the music on our recent album could only have come into being through this compositional process. As musicians who both improvise and compose, it is therefore difficult to draw a clear line between the two; however, it is evident that this approach has introduced a new dimension to our work.
What balance is there between forgetting and remembering in your work?
Both play a crucial role in our practice.
Improvisation requires a certain ability to let go, to forget patterns, expectations and habits in order to remain open and present. At the same time, memory is always at work: it informs our listening, our choices, and the subtle re-emergence of materials shaped over time.
It is precisely in the tension between these two states that something new can arise.
Taking your recent projects, releases, and performances as examples, what, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to improvisation?
On our recent release, Immutable Traveler, our first album, we approached improvisation as a tool for composition.
We began by improvising without any predefined material or concept, allowing our conversations, travels, memories, and even the light and vastness of the room to flow into the music. From there, we improvised, recorded, listened back and selected the fragments that resonated most with us.
This material then became the basis for further development: we shaped, transformed, distorted, and re-recorded it, continuously modulating and refining it until a final form gradually emerged.
What are some of your favourite collaborators and how do they enrich your improvisations?
We would like to approach this question slightly differently and instead speak about what we hope to develop in the next phase of our work. For us, one of the most important collaborators moving forward is the sound engineer.
Following our recording experience with Benjamin Maumus on Immutable Traveler, we became more aware that our music contains a wide range of subtle details and sonic qualities that can only fully emerge and be heard through careful and refined amplification. This realization opened up a new perspective on how our sound can be shaped and perceived.
As a next step, we would like to build a close collaboration with a sound engineer and further explore this idea of nuanced amplification. Ideally, we would also tour together, allowing us to maintain a consistent and distinctive sound across different venues.
In a live situation, decisions between creatives often work without words. From your experience and current projects, what does this process feel like and how does it work?
We recently had the opportunity to play several concerts in a row while presenting our new album, and this experience revealed something essential about our way of working. Over the course of these performances, the pieces began to transform in ways that are difficult to fully articulate.
It is a process that unfolds through repetition, listening and shared presence. Without needing to speak, we gradually adjust to one another, allowing subtle shifts to emerge from within the music itself. In this sense, decisions are not consciously negotiated, but rather felt and embodied, arising from the collective experience of playing together.
Stewart Copeland said: “Listening is where the cool stuff comes from. And that listening thing, magically, turns all of your chops into gold.” What do you listen for?
Anna: We listen closely to the sound of the space itself: how it responds, resonates, and shapes what we do. We listen to how the audience is listening to us, and to how the music ultimately finds its final form in this shared moment of listening and sounding.
Anouck: For me listening seems to be the raw material of any sonic practice. It is about placing oneself in a listening context in order to finely perceive how things take shape, emerge, and come into being in real time. Listening is a thread that undeniably connects us, continuously, to the living world.
Marina: I experience listening as a space of freedom and possibility, an open field where anything can happen at any moment. I listen for the sound that might trigger a clear shift, for a harmonic that suggests a new direction, for the turning points: an overflowing silence or a sudden gesture that redirects the course of the music.
Listening becomes a way of navigating these transformations in real time, of recognizing when a situation calls for continuity, rupture, or redirection within the unfolding form.
As listeners, do you also have a preference for improvised music? If so, what is it about this music that you appreciate as part of the audience?
Yes, we attend as many concerts as possible. When listening to improvised music, what we particularly appreciate is the ability to perceive how musicians listen to one another—their quality of listening as expressed through the way they play, interact, and respond to what is unfolding in the moment.
The personal musical languages that emerge through long-term collaborations, the plasticity of sound: the sense of constant transformation and the opening of new possibilities. The different ways and strategies musicians use to direct the energy of a performance over time and to guide a set.
In a way, we improvise all the time. In which way is your creative work feeding back and possibly supporting other areas of your life?
The choice to work as musicians already affects our daily lives considerably, as the structure of the profession differs from that of a more conventional job. It brings with it both a sense of freedom and responsibility.
We are regularly faced with unexpected situations and have the opportunity to meet and interact with many different people, which is a very valuable experience in today's society.