Un livre des voix: Maitreya, Colibri, Cocuyo

Another area of ​​Sarduy’s radio work is those broadcasts focused on his life and work. He does not appear as the creative person in charge, but it can be sensed that he advised musical production and guided dramaturgy in some cases. This kind of broadcasts began in 1967, after the publication of Écrit en dansant—E. Cabillon’s translation of De donde son los cantantes—as part of a series called Ecrivains étrangers de langue française. The producer and host, Jean Paget, interviews him about this novel and the previous one, Gestos. Sarduy also makes a brief account of his life in Cuba. Next, María Casares interprets, together with Bachir Toure, two fragments of Écrit and, alone, one of Gestes. The following year, on August 21, Jean Paget interviews him again about his next novel, Cobra. After its publication, Pierre Sipriot and Manuel Claude Roland will design with Sarduy a program dedicated to the text, within the series Un livre des voix, a collection in which Sarduy collaborated frequently. In this collection were broadcasts dedicated to Maitreya –Pierre Sipriot and George Peyrou–, Colibri –Pierre Sipriot and Jean Pierre Colas– and Pour que personne ne sache que j’ai peur –Claude Mourthé and Jean Pierre Colas–, Cocuyo‘s translation by Aline Schulman. Let us look at the sound design of these last three.

Cocuyo’s cover by Gallimard, 1991.

Between the production date of the broadcast dedicated to Maitreya (November 1980) and that of Cocuyo (December 1991) there is a notable technical difference: the duration was reduced from 40 to 28 minutes. This reduction and the structural changes that I am goning to address in a moment may be related to the reforms applied in France Culture after the legalization of commercial stations in France. However, France Culture has kept room to promote the books while using music and other sound effects effectively. Such is the case of those of Maitreya and Cocuyo. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the one focus on Colibrí.
The dramatic readings of Maitreya, by Francine Berger, and Cocuyo, done by an actor whose name does not appear in the credits, are magnificent.

Francine Berger reads Maitreya. Un livre des voix, November 11, 1980
Unknow actor reads Cocuyo, Un libre des voix, December 9, 1991

Sound effects are not missing, as the actors create acoustic levels from rhythm, pitch, and volume changes. On the other hand, Pierre Clementi’s interpretation of Colibri’s fragments is monotone, a rhythm that accentuates the program’s overall structure.

Pierre Clemnti reads Colibrí, Un livre des voix, March 7, 1986

Regarding structure, In Maitreya‘s, the director alternates interview (cyan), reading (blue), and music (green) fragments of varying lengths.

Plot of Maitreya‘s Un livre des voix

In Cocuyo‘s, there is only one long fragment of interpretation (blue) between two fragments of interviews (cyan).

Plot of Cocuyo‘s Un livre des voix

However, in Colibri‘s, there is a constant rhythm: the repetition three times of the music (green)-interview (cyan)-reading (blue) sequence in which the spoken passages are pretty similar in length.

Plot of Colibri‘s Un libre des voix

The graphs* clearly show the gradual simplification in the collection’s broadcast throughout the eighties. Note the role that the text reading (blue) is gaining and the symmetry of these readings in the broadcast focus on Colibrí. At the same time, the author’s voice (cyan) retreats to the background. Other notable aspects are the intentional pause or silence (white) produced near the end of the program dedicated to Maitreya and the disappearance of an initial moment of book’s presentation (yellow) by the host that, in the cases of Colibrí and Cocuyo, was integrated to the credits.
However, the biggest mistake in Colibri‘s Un libre des voix is the musical selection. Maitreya combined the voices of three mulatto divas central to Sarduy’s sonic imaginary: Celia Cruz, Maria Bethania, and Billie Holiday. Mulatto voices would be essential for his sonic decolonization project and his design of an aural black Atlantic. In Cocuyo, the producers return to Celia Cruz / Maria Bethania duo as an image of the erotic and religious similarities between Havana and Salvador de Bahía that Sarduy traces in his comments. However, in Colibri the producers used two Andean pieces: “Mosaico”, by Ñanda Mañachi and “Misa Punlla”, by Bolivia Manta. It is unlikely that Sarduy has had something to do with this selection that responds, in my opinion, to a stereotypical vision of the South American and does not even pay attention to the author. In the same interview, when Sarduy says that Colibri is very South American, he means very Cuban. Such musical choices also show great ignorance of the book itself, whose imaginary is nourished by the continental Caribbean region (Venezuela, México), not the Andean culture.
Even in these pieces that he did not produce, links are discovered between earcons active in his narrative and poetic work and those sound objects broadcasted that expanded the reception of his work by the French audience. Both from the musical point of view and the sound effects, Sarduy seems to have managed, in most cases, to influence the sound design. The examples that I have commented on before, especially Colibri‘s Un libre des voix, show that Sarduy gave his opinion on the best way to sound this or that aspect of his writing. Besides, illustrate how neglecting that advice could lead to misinterpretations. Perhaps that is why, exceptionally, Colibri’s Un livre des voix was followed by the retransmission of his awarded radio play Récit.

* Bumpchart graphs allow the comparison of multiple categories over a continuous dimension and the evolution of its sorting. By default, sorting is based on the stream size. Source: RAWGraphs

Broadcasting Latin American Literature from France Culture

Sarduy’s collaborations with France Culture extend from January 9, 1963, when the station was about to be created, until a few months before his death, on February 28, 1993, when À Naxos—a sound creation by Kaye Mortley where Sarduy is a guest voice—was broadcasted. In most of the files kept at INA archive, Sarduy is a guest—sometimes the only one—as a specialist in Latin American culture; in many others, the space is dedicated to him as the author or to one of his works. Sarduy even worked as an actor and his voice can be heard in various broadcasts, reading texts in French and Spanish by other writers, almost always Hispanic Americans. I suppose that, in those radio spaces dedicated to him, he had huge possibilities of participating in the production, taking decisions on musical pieces, effects, and voices to support his texts and reflections. 

Severo Sarduy at Tam Tam (1976), by Adolfo Arrieta

Sarduy’s relationship with this station has two well-marked stages: the sixties, where he collaborates more as a producer and guest author, and the subsequent years, when his success as a writer and editor grants him a recurring specialist position in various topics. Sarduy’s first invitation to a broadcast produced by others was on June 20, 1963. It was a weekly space entitled La vie des lettres, a literary causerie where Pierre Bellefroid, Michel Perrin, and Severo Sarduy share microphones with Nathalie Sarraute. This type of literary-themed programs will be periodicals in their catalog, and contemporary Latin American literature would be the most explored area: Guimarães Rosa, Jorge Luis Borges, García Marques, Lezama Lima, Octavio Paz, Manuel Puig, Miguel Ángel Asturias, Alejo Carpentier, Emilio Sánchez Ortiz, Julio Cortázar, Juan Rulfo, Jorge Amado, Álvaro Mutis. I have drawn up this list in chronological order so that its historiographic “disorder” illustrates the well-known disorder in the reception of that corpus by the European public. I should add the names of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, Italo Calvino, Góngora, San Juan de la Cruz, Camilo José Cela, Witold Gombrowicz, Michel Butor, Patrick Roudier, Roger Caillois, Michel Foucault and, of course, Roland Barthes. Although diverse, this directory has two active centers: the baroque and the post-avant-garde, and it shows very well what could be called Sarduy’s aural library.

Of course, some texts are more endearing in this library, and these affective relationships are evident in Sarduy’s level of engage in the broadcast. I highlight here the programs of the series Un vie, une oeuvre focused on Cortázar (December 27, 1984 [link]), Lezama Lima (February 28, 1985), and Góngora (March 27, 1986 [link]) and the conversation with Jean Pierre Colas about Ecue -Yamba-O! which, according to the credits heard at the end of the broadcast, was produced by Sipriot for the series Un libre des voix.

Beyond the natural differences due to collections and time, there are other differences that could be based on Sarduy’s creative interests. The first of them is quantitative: the space dedicated to Carpentier has very few sound objects, only the voices of Sipriot, Colas, Sarduy, and the actor who reads two passages from the novel, and three musical fragments of the same song to Oyá distributed at the beginning, near the center and the end. The second, much more interesting, qualitative: there is no complexity in the editing of these objects, the opening and ending credits are entirely independent of the program itself and are not mixed with music, the passage from the short musical sections to the long-spoken passages have simplified transitions. Not a single sound effect has been produced for the broadcast, except for the voice of an ireme, overlap during the reading of the second fragment, effective, of course, due to the tonal difference that contrasts with the deep voice and the slow rhythm of the interpreter.

Une livre des voix / Ecue-Yamba-O! / FC

In the other hand, the program dedicated to Julio Cortazar has a remarkable sonic complexity: diverse music directly associated with the author—Gardel, Bessie Smith, Thelonious Monk, Charles Parker—and recorded originally for the broadcast; sound effects: poorly tuned stations, children playing hopscotch; readings of fragments in Spanish and French by male and female voices, Cortazar’s included. Sarduy occupies a prominent place in the bradcast, where he shares comments with Florence Delay, Laure Bataillon, and Héctor Bianciotti. However, despite this elaborate aural framework, it is impossible to associate such sound objects to Sarduy’s sonic imaginary—beyond the importance of jazz in Mood Indigo— or relate their arrangement on the plot with his criteria about Cortazar’s work.

Une vie, une oeuvre / Julio Cortazar / FC

Something similar occurs in Góngora ou le triomphe du Baroque, where Sarduy occupies a less prominent place in the debate—other participants are Phillipe Sollers, Phillipe Jacottet, Claude Esteban, Bernard Sesé and Gregorio Manzur—, but essential in the reading of poems in Spanish. Nothing in the musical sound objects is relatable with his sonic imagery, yet the fragments where Sarduy speaks or reads texts are the most complex in the program. For example, in the opening Sarduy begins to read Góngora’s “Soledad primera” having the introit of the Sonata in F minor by Domenico Scarlatti, performed by V. Horowitz, as background. His voice goes up and down a couple of times before the female voice of the regular announcer of this series presents the title and those responsible for the broadcast.

Une vie, une oeuvre / Gongora ou le triomphe du Baroque / FC

I want to conclude the illustration of how Sarduy’s engage to broadcast produced by others affected sound results with José Lezama Lima ou le triomphe du baroque. It is unlikely that Sarduy did not make crucial decisions. First, the birds’ chirp is almost omnipresent, next to the murmur of a city, which confirms the place of this sound object in its sonic imaginary and its relationship with Diario de Navegación by Columbus Secondly, the musical background: Yoruba and Catholic religious music, habaneras, contradanzas, and rumbas. They are always overlaped, such as the contradanza and the rumba, aural marks of two social strata from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries in Cuba, or the Yoruba and Catholic religious songs while an actress reads the fragment of La cantidad hechizada on the imaginative configuration of the panther that begins “En los textos chinos, aún en los del siglo V a. C, la remembranza de las mutaciones es firme”. Bringing together Africans, Europeans, and Chineses in a single fragment reproduce la cubanidadimagined in De donde son los cantantes. Both passages homologate his criterion that la cubanidad does not exist as mestizaje, but as superposición, a central idea in Lezama himself and that it is much easier to illustrate aurally than verbally.

Une vie, une oeuvre / Lezama Lima ou le triomphe du Baroque (intro) / FC
Une vie, une oeuvre / Lezama Lima ou le triomphe du Baroque (fragment) / FC

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