Laanky panky

>> Jérôme Minière's secret little buddy Herri Kopter

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

Once upon a time (always wanted to start an article with that), there was an island near the North Pole called Laanka. Not an island, actually, but a massive ice floe, which over the last millennium had become home to errant Eskimos, way errant Basques, cranky Vikings and assorted shipwrecked Europeans. A tiny yet peacefully multi-culti community of roughly 1,500 that called Laanka home--until global warming evaporated it.

The Laankan refugees were discovered by Quebec authorities somewhere near the Laurentians, and have since been sequestered in that mysterious subterranean realm under the former Eaton's here in Montreal. One of their number, composer Herri Kopter, contacted Montreal-based neo-chansonnier Jérôme Minière in a most enigmatic fashion. Minière has assumed the responsibility of serving as go-between for the reclusive Kopter, packaging his fascinating, hyperclassical compositions and recordings on the album Jérôme Minière Presents Herri Kopter.

Via Minière, who communicates with Kopter by way of scraps of paper slipped furtively under the door of the secret refugee camp, the Mirror was able to pose the Laankan maestro a few questions.



Mirror: First of all, my condolences on the loss of your nation. Now that you and your fellow Laankans are living in the bowels of Montreal's underground city, do you dream of someday again having your own autonomous nation, your own "promised land"?

Herri Kopter: Yes, but we're such a small number of people that it would be a miniscule country--more like a big village.

M: Why have you chosen Jérôme Minière as the liaison between the Laankans and the rest of the world?

HK: Because he's timid, discreet and likes to stay quietly in his little corner. These character traits are very similar to those of us Laankans.

M: You've stated that our society strikes you as "enigmatic, cacophonic and incomprehensible." I don't disagree with you. Do you think the Laankans might have constructive advice to share with us?

HK: We've been living with difficult conditions for decades, so we've learned to be prudent and moderate, to consider the problems before us but to stay optimistic nonetheless--right now, it seems that these values are very appropriate. What we really don't understand is your cynicism.

M: After you music, are there other Laankan artists, or other aspects of Laankan art and culture, which we can hope to discover?

HK: Oh, yes, Laankan architecture is very particular. I'm hoping you'll have the chance to discover it this winter--but keep it quiet, it's a surprise. Also, I have a Laankan friend who found a digital video camera lost by a Japanese tourist a few weeks ago. It seems he wants to make Laankan films. Jérôme asked me about presenting my work live on stage, but as I'm not yet ready to perform publicly, I've asked him to represent me this fall (he'll be joined by Christian Miron). I have faith that my music will not be misrepresented, but simply interpreted, translated in a certain sense. I have promised him that I will appear on the Cabaret stage on December 13--so I've got two months to overcome my shyness.

With the Dears and Microcosm at Cabaret on Friday, Oct. 12, 8pm, $15, and with Felix Kubin at the FCMM's Media Lounge (SAT) on Monday, Oct. 15, 11pm, $8.50