Some artists invite you into their world with a wink. Cleo T. builds an entire forest and hands you a gold-leafed map. Her latest project Des Forêts et des Rêves (out on Moonflowers editions, while the original book of poems in French the book of poems is published by Éditions de l’Entrevers) is not just an album – it’s a portal. Somewhere between sonic sance, poetic meditation, and ambient drive, this work gently undoes the Spotifyified instant-gratification culture with reverence, silence, and an unwavering sense of mystery.
We spoke to Cleo in an attempt to follow the roots of her inspiration through the undergrowth. What we found were theremins, 300-year-old chestnuts, haunted pianos, and a very welcome reminder that sometimes, art should be less about “content” and more about contemplation.
So take a deep breath. Leave your feed behind. Enter the forest. And if you hear a dream humming in the trees… don’t be surprised.
Chain D.L.K.: Des Forêts et des Rêves feels like an invitation into a dreamscape – how did the initial idea for this project come to you?
Cleo T.: About 6 years ago, I left the cities (from Paris, I was living in Berlin at this time) with a global necessity to let go of many things. I felt overwhelmed and needed to leave that world behind for a while.
Make silence and focus on where I was at this precise moment of my life.
It was both hard and liberating. Context helped me: my first maternity, then the pandemic, then this new way of living (in a lost area of the French countryside). It was like bringing the world to me and stopping running after it. Like stopping to push hard on things and just letting them happen. I let go of any expectations, ideas of records, development, songs, etc. I just very humbly focused on the things I liked and that were mine, forever, my universe, my weird piano, my dreams, my passion for poetry, and I felt free. Then the forest appeared.
Chain D.L.K.: The album combines poetry, music, and visual storytelling. Which of these elements usually comes first when you create?
Cleo T.: There is no usual way. It is more like an ongoing matrix of work, inspirations, and studies. And some things at some point take a step.
In this specific case, it was the image. I was fascinated by icons, the meditative journey of icon painters, the relationship to the gold background, and its metaphysics. I took a lot of photographs (some of them can be found in the book that accompanies this album), especially of trees silhouetted against the sky. I made prints on paper or wood, and I filled the sky with gold. I think that was the initial gesture, like a process of meditation, a way of crystallizing a specific way to look at things. Then I wrote the collection of poems, very early one morning. And the music finally just had to take shape.
Chain D.L.K.: You focus on showing the “laboratory” of creation rather than just the finished piece. Was this a reaction to today’s “instant result” culture?
Cleo T.: Obviously, it stands against. More than reacting, it just stands for other values, that are just the way if you read Pasolini, Walter Benjamin, fell fascinated by the Bauhaus, or just try to be as free as a human being can be…
Today, the fracture is huge. And I hope somehow it goes to a point where the picture will finally become clear again. I see things as absolute nonsense where we concretely value the opposite of everything that has built the history of art up to today. Surprisingly, European countries with centuries behind them adhere to such an acculturated vision of art. Art also requires the uncompromising act of locking oneself inside, impermeability to the expectations of the general public, and the radicality of a singular and unique vision. Art also demands experimenting, searching for its contours, not sticking to a tag, nor searching for popular validation.
I mean, art is serious. And back to certain eras or geographical zones, people have died for it and because of it. Are we fully aware of Malevich’s journey before arriving at suprematism? Are we fully aware of Picasso’s constant evolution and his periods? A disaster for the algorithm. Are we well aware that Manet saw none of his paintings accepted at the salons for almost his entire life? From Ambroise Vollard to Spotify playlist curators, there is a world of difference. I believe it is essential for artists to clearly define the world they choose to inhabit. And it is equally essential to clearly define what belongs to art and what belongs to entertainment. Then, if it’s clear, it is all fine with me. Without hierarchy but with lucidity: it is true that the constant use of the term artist, when placed in the context of its origin (more or less during the Rinascimento and more or less with Leonardo da Vinci), is dizzying.
Chain D.L.K.: How did your residency at the Fondation Martell influence the emotional or sonic direction of the work?
Cleo T.: This is directly connected to the question above. The essence of this residency was to open a space where art can happen. When you think about what constitutes the daily considerations / must-do of musicians: content, flows, platform formats, reach, and immediate renderings, etc., you realize how precious it is to receive a form of formal validation for these times of research, experimentation, and thought. A whole month of research residency applied to music is rare and precious. I devoted this time to digging into the interior of the Self, which in a way resulted in detaching myself from the formal aspect in an attempt to best restore the path to interiority.
Chain D.L.K.: The poetry and music seem deeply intertwined – how do you balance the language of words with the language of sound?
Cleo T.: Already in literary terms, I work a lot from oral expression. I write aloud, I reread aloud, it’s fundamental for me. Everything must pass through the body, and undoubtedly the path of breathing, through the vocal approach. Sound and body is a way of linking the spheres of thought to an organic physiology. It’s the emotional body. For me, the voice is a path to this space of “full” consciousness, where languages unite in a kind of immediate synesthesia (We think of Baudelaire’s image ) in one simple gesture as natural as breathing: this is where the poem appears for me in all its aspects, visual, sonic, literary.
Chain D.L.K.: You use the acoustic piano almost like a dream-pop guitar – can you tell us more about how you approached sound manipulation for this project?
Cleo T.: I have always loved the electric guitar, dreamy, almost shoegaze. And more than instrumental virtuosity, I love how it highlights the emotion through sounds, the choice of a reverb, and its use of frequencies. I have no piano training, which for a long time could be a hindrance, inhibiting my work. Then, as often, this defect became a force. I felt like I needed to face this and come up with a positive position for myself, may I play or not play the piano I wanted.
So I worked above my relationship with the instrument. All I had projected inside the piano since childhood. As if I had left fragments there over the years. And maybe the fact of not being the pianist I dreamed of allowed me to concentrate only on the emotional, ultra-personal, and sensitive relationship with the instrument. These blue pianos that only work on the mechanics of memory, on the form of hypnosis that allows me to go back to the interiority, to oneself. On the blurred form, as in the echo that directs the line of reality to allow us to pass “behind”. Each of the sound manipulations, the effects applied to the piano, responds to a simple internal process, and I believe shared by all: nostalgia, reminiscence, the perception of becoming.
Chain D.L.K.: Echo chambers, infinite delays, theremins… Your soundscape feels both ancient and futuristic. What fascinates you about these textures?
Cleo T.: This is a very beautiful definition of my general approach to everything. And it sounds to me like the greatest compliment because, applied to art, it is a kind of definition of modernity. Indeed, I am constantly in the search for this dialogue between past worlds, legacies (what I call Jadis and which is the starting point of the piece), and a search for acute awareness of what is “going to be”. A kind of suspended space, in full awareness that possibly brings us to be present to the world. And I think that the textures and sounds that I choose impose themselves as a sonic materialization of this inner dynamic, very personal, that I always try to follow as closely as possible.
Chain D.L.K.: What was it like recording and mixing with Lenny Szpira? Did the songs evolve much during the studio process?
Cleo T.: To be honest, he was brilliant, as the recording was chaotic. Everything was recorded live, in a continuous improvisation over a single, entire day. If I use the term protocol to define this work, it’s because it resulted in:
During the month of residency, I created a landscape, plans, colors, and an alphabet, then constructed a journey, a general movement. There was the construction of the journey that should be done, and its main moves, themes, paths, like the emotional frameworks of the different sequences of the piece. Of course, through my perception, everything made sense, but during the recording and mix, I realized the immense work of adaptability, listening, and resonance required to follow this flow and reproduce it as accurately as possible. And Lenny did a splendid and very artistic work. Each live performance is different, to stay true to the dynamic of the work. No piece is formally fixed. Only the emotional score.
Chain D.L.K.: In Des Forêts et des Rêves, silence seems as important as sound. How do you compose with silence?
Cleo T.: I’m very fascinated by silence, it’s true, but above all by inner silence. And paradoxically, this silence seems to take shape, or at least I sense it, especially through sounds. This album is the first work I composed after moving to the countryside. I needed this silence, far from the human sounds of cities. And then I understood that the Living is never silent. It is populated by birdsong, rustling in the trees. We never hear night silence better than when a bird echoes. We never plunge more deeply into reverie than lulled by the waves, or lying under a tree in the summer breeze.
In a way, I think I tried to compose the piece in exactly this way, as a sound environment that would lead the listeners to reach inner silence.
Chain D.L.K.: Were there any happy accidents or unexpected sounds that ended up becoming essential parts of the record?
Cleo T.: I think the whole album is a series of accidents. And so is life. I’d never done it that way. Like a guided meditation. And I think I found something that both healed me and empowered me. Something I needed at that moment of my life. I don’t approach music with a desire for excellence, mastery, etc., I have never been trained in it.
My approach is rather that of a continuous, permanent, daily work whose ambition is that each gesture or artistic incarnation be the perfect expression of the self. And this includes all the flaws, vulnerable, fallible, fragile parts that are never accidents, but rather an essential part of what constitutes us.
Somehow, maybe it was my guide to acceptance.
Chain D.L.K.: You’ve worked with incredible names like John Parish, Robert Wyatt, and Alex Somers. How have these collaborations shaped your own creative identity?
Cleo T.: They have, above all, been guides, enormous personal supports in the expression of my artistic entity. When one’s artistic dynamic is only toward singularity, it is very difficult to feel legitimate, authorized, or valuable. We are strange, singular, surprising, etc., as soon as we are truly ourselves. Being a human being is complex and difficult. The fact of having been accompanied by the confidence of these personalities who meant so much for me in their art and their vision of creation has given me both strength and validation. I believe that they have helped me to build a path of inner and creative freedom. And for this, I am forever grateful. In addition, of course, to the brilliant contributions that they have brought to the music and recordings.
Chain D.L.K.: Were there particular pieces of art, literature, or cinema that served as touchstones while working on Des Forêts et des Rêves?
Cleo T.: Strangely, it’s like a moment of emptiness because I had just had my son, I was exhausted, and so consumed by this ultra-present, that I read very little or watched any films. The countryside kept me away from museums and exhibitions that have been a routine for me for years.
However, I would say some lifelong passions still show: French poet René Daumal, le contre-ciel, and Le Grand Jeu. Dead Man, Neil Young’s guitar-in dialog with photography and the poetry of William Blake). Japan, Kobayashi Issa, and the impermanence of the world, the tales of the Moon Vague after the Rain. And then, very prosaically, the absorption of a new way of life, the trees around me (I have 300-year-old chestnut trees at the foot of my windows) like a new repertoire of shapes and sounds.
Chain D.L.K.: You’ve mentioned influences like David Lynch’s universe – does surrealism play an active role in your music-making philosophy?
Cleo T.: I have a certain distance from the protocol aspect of the Breton School, but I am certainly very influenced by the link with the metaphysics of the unconscious, the instantaneity of the gesture, and the connection to the dream. However, I perhaps feel closer to other avant-gardes, I think of the symbolist movements, Odilon Redon, and the very ancient worlds that inhabit the present, or the Blau Reiter and the spiritual research of Kandinsky.
Chain D.L.K.: There’s a sense of metaphysical exploration throughout the album – is Des Forêts et des Rêves a personal journey, or a more universal one?
Cleo T.: I do things in a personal manner. My relation to art is deeply individual, like digging a path towards the closest essence of myself. However, I kind of feel like this movement also meets a connection with a form of immanent truth of the world. The inner process and universality are intimately linked, and this I am now sure.
Not in terms of common taste, or gathering a massive audience, or federating adhesion. But rather in this feeling that each of us contains a part of a universal soul. Plotinus, who is undoubtedly my primary influence in everything, writes that if the human eye can see the sun, it is because somewhere it is itself a part of the sun. And if the human being can recognize beauty, it is because his soul holds beauty in it. From then on, we understood the path.
Chain D.L.K.: How do you hope listeners feel when they immerse themselves in this record and its accompanying book?
Cleo T.: I hope they feel in front of a landscape they know, that feels like home. But where a door suddenly opens, somewhere in the sky or on the horizon. Like in a Magritte painting. Or like when an eloquent landscape captures our hearts. And I hope they set out on their journey.
Chain D.L.K.: Forests and dreams are both places where things hide and transform – what do these symbols mean to you personally?
Cleo T.: Forests are a very strong image in tales, in Lewis Carroll (The forest “where things have no names ) and, of course, in Dante’s opening lines of the Divine Comedy. These are places that are like poetic states, that remind us that there are different ways of inhabiting the present, different depths of the field of reality. I am someone who is always looking for what lies behind.
Chain D.L.K.: Your performances seem as much immersive experiences as concerts. How are you translating Des Forêts et des Rêves into the live setting?
Cleo T.: I try to recreate his journey, his creative and spiritual process, more than a musical score. The performances are therefore always improvised, a way of creating an imbalance, a fragility that forces one to be fully present.
There is no fixed form; the performance is a space that opens and welcomes the moment, creating an encounter with the environment, the audience, and the space. Immersion occurs through the sound environment (soundscapes, field recordings), a large part given to the narrative story, like a form of guided meditation, and through the idea of a continuous flow.
Chain D.L.K.: How important is the physical space – museums, theaters, poetry clubs – in shaping your live shows?
Cleo T.: Essential. In the past, I have presented a lot of shows with very constructed forms (scenography, projection, etc.), and it is always a challenge to adapt them to the place. Now I do the opposite. I try to let the place, the present, irrigate the form. And there is something very gentle, almost reassuring in the end, because it forces you to both deeply inhabit the present moment, but also to concentrate only on the essence, the deep heart to be restored in the live performance.
Chain D.L.K.: Looking back at the beginning of the project, has Des Forêts et des Rêves changed you as an artist?
Cleo T.: This is a decisive step in my journey. It is a moment of metamorphosis. As if over the years I had, like any artist, laid stones, built a path and tried to walk along as straight as possible, but here, suddenly, the feet no longer touch the ground. The road is no longer in front of me, but in a form of ascension. It is truly a change of state in the physical sense of the term, which has the effect of a liberation, an aspiration, and a detachment also towards many contingents. Like this moment when we pass above the clouds.
Chain D.L.K.: If you could invite the audience into a single emotion or image while experiencing this work, what would it be?
Cleo T.: Beauty.
Visit Cleo T. on the web:
https://www.cleotmusic.com/
https://cleotmusic.bandcamp.com/