PS live at Salon Bruit

Somehow I was curious to see and listen to PS at our last Salon Bruit evening. I had never seen somebody playing the Theremin. Philippe, the P in the PS, came up to me before the concert and showed me the instrument: a blackbox, hardly bigger then my walkman.
When P. started playing he was partly hiding behind the chairs of the front row. His back to the audience, his instruments under the table, and, invisible to us, a piece of scotch over his mouth to secure the contact mike. I didn't perceive his sounds as music. In the scarce light of the kino something else happened.
Philippe is born in the heart of Paris, and has lived there all of his life. By coming to Berlin, he changed one metropole for another. His sounds expressed this existence. Not as a conflict, but as every day life. Before the concert I suggested to him to go on stage, to show what he did. He refused. And logically so, he refused. Going on stage, showing oneself, is about stories, and about zooming in on the many details a town has to offer.
Philippe went the opposite way. One timevisible, next time disappearing to become part of the whole and get absorbed by the streets, then by the quartier, and ultimately by big city life. And then, what was left, and what was heard, was the city itself. This concert was one of the last occasions to see PS. He will return to Paris next month. For Salon Bruit it is a loss.His sounds deserve to be heard more then once a year.