— chassol —
interview at the Cully Jazz Festival
The Cully Jazz had a super great surprise in store this year: during a visit for the making of | wordstobemusic | vol.4 dropping at the end of 2025, the festival organised us a 30 minute long interview with French artist Chassol—one I’m very happy to share with you today as part of my | uncut | interview series.
| wordstobemusic | :
Hello Chassol.
Chassol:
Hello Sophia.
| wtbm |:
Thanks for accepting this interview.
Chassol:
With pleasure.
| wtbm |:
We’re here at Cully Jazz. This isn’t your first time here, right?
Chassol:
It’s exactly, to the day, nine years ago. To the day.
| wtbm |:
Welcome back!
Chassol:
Thank you.
| wtbm |:
Is this a place that holds a special connection to your music?
Chassol:
No. With the Lavaux? No, but I’m attached to it because the lake made a crazy impression on me. And it’s been sunny every time I’ve come. It’s always been cool moments.
There was something when we played Montreux in 2019, where for the first time, I stayed in a hotel that had historic posters from the festival in my room, up on the rooftops. And I was presenting a new show, and I felt like I kind of belonged to jazz for the first time. Or to something with history. That rarely happened to me. But there’s also something about Switzerland because we have a Swiss agency, Nadia, who’s super cool, and we love coming here. There’s also Grisons meat.
| wtbm |:
Ah, the food—people try to hide it but it’s actually pretty good.
Tonight, you’re here among other things to present your project around Basquiat. If I understood correctly, we’ll also get to hear other pieces. I wanted to say, especially with the link Basquiat had to poetry, it’s really great that you’re presenting part of this project here.
And I wanted to go back to the technique you used—Ultra Score. I’d like you to tell us more about this technique, maybe for people who don’t know it. And also how you approached it through the lens of Basquiat’s work?
Chassol:
Listen, this word, Ultra Score, is a little neologism I made up—it was in 2005. I was living in Los Angeles at the time, in an art center. I’d just finished a tour and decided to stay in LA. I had time, I was doing well, I had some savings, I could really experiment.
2005 comes, January or February, and then YouTube arrives. And that was kind of a revolution. I was born in ’76, so I grew up with VHS. To get a clip of a movie, it was tough. And all of a sudden, I had access to tons of films, videos, etc. I started to… well, I’d already been making film music for a long time, music for images, where I’d import videos into my music software. Now, I could import films, interviews with directors I liked, iconic movie scenes for me, tons of research—like typing “child, street, conservatory, 1970s”—and finding incredible stuff. So I imported videos. And when you import video, you can see the music in it.
At that point, I started to borrow the technique of Hermeto Pascoal, a Brazilian albino composer, fantastic, genius, pianist, who in ’92 made an album called “Festa dos Deuses“, where he put music to conversations between a little girl and her mother taking a bath, a football commentator, a politician.
And the technique was note-for-note. He transcribed the notes of every syllable in the words. I literally took that technique. And since I did a lot of video work and music for images, I applied it directly to video. Steve Reich also did that in ’88 with “Different Trains“. So I took the technique, applied it to video, and dove in. It was powerful, amazing material.
So the technique in question, I called it Ultra Score. It was just a name. I like giving names, inventing words, but it was mainly to sort my experiments into a folder on my computer. And then the term stuck, when I developed the concept and promoted my albums, the word stayed. And it sounds very serious. But I actually saw it as like: Ultra…Scoooore! A score is a film music score. We say “film score“. Score means sheet music in English. And Ultra was because for me, it was a film score. Usually in film music, you’re asked to express the interiority of a character or what’s offscreen—emotions, affect, etc. And here, since I was transcribing the objective melody of words in a video—words, sounds, noises—I felt it was the hyper-objective degree. So it was a score that wasn’t emotional. In fact, in the end, it’s both. But yeah, I just needed a name. So Ultra Score is this: taking the sounds of a video, turning them into notes, and editing the whole thing, looping the melodies that you get.
So for example, if I say, “Hello Sophia, I’m happy to do this interview.” “Hello Sophia, I’m happy to do this interview” (sings the melody). So I loop that. I’d make loops. And every time the loop played, I could put a different chord underneath. Which means you can see the same thing repeat, but different each time. I don’t know if that’s clear. Basically, Ultra Score is an audiovisual object. It’s the music of a film using the sounds from the film itself.
| wtbm |:
And for Basquiat, you used “Action Comic“?
Chassol:
Yes, “Action Comic“. You know, the first one with Superman from 1938. What’s funny, precisely with this commission—it was a commission from the Philharmonie de Paris for the “Basquiat Soundtrack“ exhibition. They asked three composers to create pieces. They asked Mos Def, a friend of mine named Ambrose Akun Muzir, a trumpeter, and me. At first, I wanted to animate paintings. Like you have pieces with Dizzy Gillespie, all that. I wanted to animate them, record a saxophonist, that kind of thing. But it’s pretty complicated, the Basquiat estate.
| wtbm |:
I imagine. Even though he’s outrageously overused. There are mugs, socks, memes, all of it. But you still have to pay up.
Chassol:
So then I thought—Basquiat has been in my in-laws’ house for years. My father-in-law bought it in the ’80s. So I’ve known it since…
| wtbm |:
You basically grew up with Basquiat.
Chassol:
Yeah, I grew up with Basquiat beforehand, because, as a Black person, there aren’t 100,000 painters. So there’s kind of this injunction to love him, you know? But I wasn’t a fan. I liked him.
| wtbm |:
You maybe admired the historical significance?
Chassol:
Not even that much. People always told me I looked like him physically. So, you know… I always liked him. But I never wanted to be a cursed artist. I don’t want to die at 27. I don’t want to be a junkie, you know?
| wtbm |:
And I imagine you’re tired of hearing “you’re the Basquiat of the piano” now.
Chassol:
Yeah, or like people saying, “he’s the Black Mozart.”
So I had this painting in the family, I saw it all the time. It shows a Superman lifting a green car, probably throwing it at people. Not a cool Superman. I asked my son—he was maybe five at the time—and his two cousins, my sister’s kids, to stand in front of it and tell me whatever came to mind. Describe it. And I knew with what they’d say—because those three are sharp—I’d have material to harmonize, to set to music, to Ultra Score.
But what’s interesting with this commission, this piece in particular, is that it had been 17 years—this was in 2022, and I started in 2005, like I said, the Ultra Scores. And during that process, over and over again, I discovered a new harmonization technique. And it was like a Copernican revolution for me. Like an on-off switch. I suddenly thought, “How did I not think of this before?” I mean, I’ll tell you the technique.
| wtbm |:
You didn’t patent it? (laughs)
Chassol:
No, I share my techniques. It’s a concept—I share it. Some things took me 20 years to conceptualize. If I go talk to conservatory students or whoever, I tell them things that took me 20 years to find.
| wtbm |:
And you’re not immune to a student saying: “Hey, did you think of this too?” And maybe they help develop your technique further.
Chassol:
I don’t know, that hasn’t happened yet. Never know.
But when you work with younger people, for things you don’t know how to do well, like for me, they’re much faster with machines and all that. They teach you a ton—shortcuts, tech tricks. So the technique before was, I’d transcribe the exact melody of the words and syllables, and based on that result, I’d add chords and follow the rhythm of the voice, its metric. So the pieces ended up a bit clunky—not how music is usually made. Music is the organization of sounds by humans, and it’s pretty codified. Things fall on beats. But our conversation, for example, it slows down, speeds up… So I’d transcribe the exact melody, add chords underneath—resulting in songs that metrically, were a bit… wobbly, which also gave them charm.
And now I realized I could impose the rhythm “through harmony“ on anything. Now I put whatever I want underneath, musically. I don’t even look at where I put the video or the audio of the words, the speech, any sound. I’ve found a way to smooth everything together.
| wtbm |:
Okay, so it’s like a little lacework that intertwines everything and creates a kind of tapestry in the end.
Chassol:
As long as the harmony holds, I don’t care about the rhythm. The brain reconstructs things. So I end up with musical phrases that don’t land where they should musically, but I see that human brains—listeners—even those who aren’t super musical, instinctively re-align them. The brain recalibrates. It’s fascinating.
For example, there’s a phrase in the Basquiat piece—my son says, “Basquiat tried to copy that image, actually, but he’s not very good, he wanted to make things that also looked like they were done by kids, you see.” And I added a regular meter underneath. And it shifts. It drifts, but since harmonically it works…
| wtbm |:
And it gives this kind of—what I felt was—more of a sonic sculpture than a song. Like, it’s maybe abstract what I’m saying. Then again, for me, contemporary art “is“ abstract.
Chassol:
Ah, abstract art and contemporary art are different things.
| wtbm |:
Yes, I know they’re different, but for me, contemporary art can also be super abstract. You know what I mean?
Chassol:
I get it. For me, the goal is… for example, do you know Michel Legrand or Stephen Sondheim—musical theater guys—you know, the speak-singing stuff? I try to go for something super natural that becomes song. It’s a way to reach people, to make demanding work that’s still digestible.
And this technique, really, it was an ontological reversal. I was like: “Ah yes, this is fantastic.” And now I use this technique and I can apply it to anything—I don’t even look at how the two layers line up.
| wtbm |:
That’s the end of all rhythmic headaches, then. It solves itself. Because sometimes at concerts, when people clap… it doesn’t solve itself! (laughs)
Chassol:
No, it’s fascinating what the brain… I mean, non-musicians—after two listens—they get it. Yeah, the brain aligns it. It’s thrilling.
| wtbm |:
That leads me to my next question—I read that you use this technique to harmonize reality.
Chassol:
That was a phrase we used with the first album… for promotion.
| wtbm |:
But do you still use that formula today, when looking back?
Chassol:
Well, even unreal things are real, since we talk about them. As soon as something is evoked, it becomes real.
| wtbm |:
And if we take that idea and transpose it onto your project with Basquiat, your son, and his cousins, what reality would you say you harmonized there?
Chassol:
Their madness, their affection, the three of them, their strong bond as cousins, their vision of Basquiat’s work.
And they say… well, I think they knew, but they say he wanted to make paintings that looked like they were made by children. And one of the cousins says… “In terms of coloring, I don’t think Basquiat really made much effort.” But no, it’s…
| wtbm |:
Pure authenticity.
Chassol:
What I love is that we froze a moment and then played it again. I’m going to play it everywhere now. I find that moment between the three cousins really beautiful. It could’ve been Basquiat or anyone else. But I think the fact that he was a Black painter made it meaningful too.
| wtbm |:
Yes, in the context of… But yes, that’s it. Honestly, no.
And there’s something that bothers me in all that, and also in Basquiat’s legacy. I’m just like, he made it that far, so why didn’t others also get lifted up by…
Chassol:
No, it’s like women.
| wtbm |:
Exactly. You can use Basquiat, but it applies to another cause, another… well, many other things.
And I’m like, okay, but he died in ‘88, and now it’s 2025. Why hasn’t the trend grown as explosively as hip-hop? You know what I mean? Because in the same…
Chassol:
One person doesn’t make a culture.
| wtbm |:
True. But you see what I mean? I wish we saw more of them in museums.
Chassol:
His fate isn’t enviable. Not at all. I’d rather have people who don’t know me, who didn’t break through and earn less, but are still alive.
| wtbm |:
Do you think he would have lived longer if he hadn’t blown up as a Black artist in that era?
Chassol:
He would have lived longer if he hadn’t gotten that deep into drugs.
| wtbm |:
You don’t think his art is connected to that?
Chassol:
No, I think it’s more tied to his devouring passion. But sure, the insane success didn’t help.
What’s interesting is that I discovered him better. Now I really like him. I’ve learned to read his paintings. So when I look at what you’re doing with | wordstobemusic |, the way you place words too — you wrote “beat, beat, beat.” “B-E-A-T,” right. And the pressure… I found… I’ve recognized Basquiat’s paintings for a long time, but at the exhibition, I started reading them out loud, you know?
Yes. And there are words crossed out, for example. I remember “teeth,” you know, teeth. Yes. And so you read, and it’s like “teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth.” You see, there’s rhythm, you can find metrics. And that was a fun way to read a painting, too. I hadn’t thought of that before. Yeah.
| wtbm |:
That’s also what’s interesting about what he creates — there are a thousand ways to read his paintings. In a way that’s different from the many interpretations you can get from other artists’ works.
Chassol:
He’s a virtuoso too, that’s what… I like seeing virtuosity — I think it’s a gift artists give us.
There’s a kind of show-off virtuosity that can be questionable, like in the early ‘70s with jazz or rock guitarists acting like athletes, just trying to play the fastest. That can be kind of ridiculous. But I actually love it when they go fast, like they climbed a mountain pass for us, you know? There’s a generous kind of virtuosity that exists. Basquiat is a virtuoso, but it’s not obvious — the kids didn’t notice it, for example.
| wtbm |:
It’s different. A different kind of virtuosity.
Chassol:
Yes, and it’s hard, it’s beautiful. It’s powerful. And also… it’s about making Black icons visible in that space. The other day I went on a site, asked a GPT to list Black inventors. There are loads. Some guy invented a vacuum cleaner. Tons of them — but we don’t even know their names.
| wtbm |:
Like with women (laughs).
Chassol:
Exactly (laughs).
| wtbm |:
If we move away from the Basquiat lens and come back to your own music — something that strikes me when I listen to your creations is that I really feel immersed in nature. In all your projects — maybe not every track, but there’s always that thread. It feels like I’m hearing nature making music…
Chassol:
When you say nature, do you mean in opposition to something?
| wtbm |:
No, I mean nature like grass… trees, nature.
Chassol:
Ah yes, that kind of nature.
Listen, in philosophy studies during my second year of undergrad, we studied Spinoza. That really stuck with me. And I have a conception of nature that’s more like… this phone, for example, it’s part of nature. It *is* nature. It’s God, basically. Everything that exists, that is thought, that is conceived — it’s all part of nature with a capital N, the substance. He replaces the word God with that. That helps avoid creating hierarchies and lets you love everything, be more tolerant I’d say.
So I feel like what’s great with this technique I stole — harmonizing, using musique concrète — it’s a French tradition: Pierre Henry, Pierre Schaeffer, the GRM, Zappa — making music with everyday sounds. That’s a whole tradition. And by doing that, you can claim things outside of yourself. I think that’s really cool. Like I was saying, Spinoza: everything’s in nature.
And by the way, Basquiat — I took six of his quotes. They are:
“I don’t think about art when I’m working.”
“I don’t listen to what art critics say.”
“I’m not a real person.”
“I’d like to make paintings that look as if they were made by a child.”
“The Black person is the protagonist in most of my paintings.”
And my favorite is:
“The more I paint, the more I like everything.”
So the more he practiced his art, the more he liked everything — even small, seemingly insignificant things like this little bit here, I don’t even know what it is. A bit of a filter. It has a story, and the more he painted, the more he cared about everything.
You get interested in this, but also in human emotions, in things that seem less trivial. That really resonates with me. So when you say “nature” in my work, it’s also because I’m part of the field recording tradition, and musique concrète — using sounds other than those produced by instruments. All sounds are valid. Even a creaking door, a pigeon, a radiator.
| wtbm |:
That lets me draw a link with what I propose in | wordstobemusic |.
To me, what you just described — seeing nature in every object — is like looking for poetry in every object. That’s how I approach it. Seeing poetry where people wouldn’t necessarily look for it.
Chassol:
What is poetry to you?
| wtbm |:
For me, poetry is when life speaks to you.
Chassol:
When life speaks to you? Do you mean language or emotions?
| wtbm |:
I mean emotions. Like, you’re walking down the street, and you see an ad that reminds you of a moment in your life that made you genuinely happy. That, to me, is life speaking to you.
Chassol:
But that’s you reacting — everything speaks, otherwise.
| wtbm |:
Yes, you react to what speaks to you.
Chassol:
When you say poetry is when life speaks — but life is speaking all the time.
| wtbm |:
No, I said: when it speaks *to you*. That’s how I see it.
Chassol:
You have to listen more than just hear.
| wtbm |:
Exactly. And I wonder if that resonates with your creative process — noticing what we don’t always see when creating…
Chassol:
Yes, it’s the same thing. Like a photographer framing a shot. For me, the blank page isn’t the problem — it’s more about removing things, framing something. Saying: okay, I’ll show you this. And in that, there’s a story, like how this scrap of paper ended up here. So poetry… that word’s a bit difficult, I think. A bit like “God.” It’s complicated to say “poetry.” A poet…
| wtbm |:
People often think I’m a grey-haired old lady (laughs).
I wanted to dive into poetry a bit more, because I like talking poetry with the artists I interview. Don’t worry, I’m not going to quiz you on Rimbaud’s verses. But it’s more to hear your take — do you think there’s poetry in what you create?
Chassol:
Yes, for me, what I imagine as poetry is more… not necessarily the things that come to mind first, but… actually, yes. For example: you play something, then I play something else. I layer them. And something emerges — a thing you hear that wasn’t played. It results from the two things colliding. And noticing that, feeling something about that thing that wasn’t played — that’s poetry to me. For example. But there are lots of examples.
| wtbm |:
So it’s kind of everywhere in your music.
Chassol:
Yes, even when it’s controlled. I could still say it’s poetic. It’s also about the links between things. Observing those connections — that’s what I’d call poetry.
| wtbm |:
So if I say that music is a kind of poetry, that doesn’t shock you?
Chassol:
No, but music is also a human science. But then again, everything is. It’s all about perspective. You’re allowed to consider anything the way you want. But I’ve never really read poetry, you know? I really respect it. It’s just that in the usual conception of poetry, I’m not a fan of fragility.
| wtbm |:
Yet there’s a lot of that in your music.
Chassol:
You think so?
| wtbm |:
Yes.
Chassol:
Huh. I don’t know. To me, harmony is very powerful — even when it’s soft or nostalgic. I see great strength in that.
| wtbm |:
To me, fragility can also be strength…
Chassol:
Maybe so, maybe so. But I haven’t developed that kind of feeling around it. But I get it.
| wtbm |:
We’re almost at the end of the interview. If we look at music and its impact on human beings, what would be your most beautiful definition of that impact?
Chassol:
A kind of power to… it makes it possible to grasp time. Time as it flows. Because music speaks of duration, of pitch. It makes the physical world tangible. Precisely because it’s invisible. We’re constantly manipulating something invisible. It’s completely wild. We have instruments, but there are also people who sing. It’s pretty mind-blowing.
| wtbm |:
And now for the last question — back to your amazing technique: What would an Ultrascore piece look like if you were to describe today’s era?
Chassol:
I don’t think I’d want to describe this era. Especially because I realize it would be really arrogant to say you want to describe an era. There are things happening even right nearby that I have no idea about. I could never really grasp it. It wouldn’t be about the era — it would be something very specific that I’d describe.
And people often told me when I started this: “You should do Nicolas Sarkozy, you should harmonize so-and-so, or Trump.” But it’s already so much work that I don’t want to focus on people I don’t like. For me, harmonizing is a gift. And I don’t want to store that in my hard drive. So it wouldn’t be true to what’s really going on.
| wtbm |:
So we’ll see with the next project, right?
Chassol:
Yes, I’m doing it now. It’s about American stand-up comedians. Stand-up as a weapon. It’s super funny, and also precarious, trivial — and at the same time one of the strongest weapons against stereotypes. Stand-up is one person on stage holding an audience for an hour. One of them says, “I wonder what stand-up is,” and he says:
« a stand-up is people trying to make other people feel better about their life through their own pain, through their own misery, right ? Talking about your own shit and for even just a moment making other people forget about their own shit and laughing together about life ».
Chassol: That’s poetry to me.
| wtbm |: Yes, I quite agree. Thank you so much, Chassol.
Chassol: My pleasure, Sophia. All the best with | wordstobemusic |.
| wtbm |: Thank you so much.