—translation by Elizabeth Jaxon Wijnalda

Marie-Claire Jamet has the quintessential harp pedigree. She was born into a musical family: both of her parents taught at the Paris Conservatory—the epicenter of the French musical tradition. Her father, Pierre Jamet, was a harpist, having studied with Alphonse Hasselmans, and her mother Renée Jamet was a cellist and composer. Marie-Claire followed in her father’s footsteps, earning diplomas in harp performance and chamber music from the Paris Conservatory, and later went on to teach there herself. Her performing career was as prolific as her teaching. She has given more than 2,000 concerts around the world as a soloist and chamber musician. Jamet also served as principal harpist of the Philharmonic Orchestra of France and then the French Radio National Orchestra. Though her talent and achievements are without question, the price Jamet paid for her training was steep. She shares it all with Harp Column in this candid interview conducted by French harpist Myriam Serfass on an October day in Flayosc, Provence.

Harp Column: Would you tell us about your childhood?

Marie-Claire Jamet: My childhood was rather turbulent, since I grew up during the Second World War. It was difficult, but my parents always took good care of me. They made me practice a lot­­—way too much I think. When I would come home from school, they would say, “Go practice the piano, practice your solfège, practice the harp,” while my sister, who was five years younger, got to play with her dolls. That annoyed me enormously.

HC: How old were you when you started playing the harp?

MCJ: Around 5 or 6 years old. At that time, there were no lever harps, so I started on a smaller size pedal harp, and I couldn’t reach the pedals. I really started practicing seriously when I was, let’s say, 8 years old, and at the age of 12, I entered the Conservatory.

HC: So, that was after the war, at the Paris Conservatory of Music.

MCJ: Yes, after the war, in 1946, with Marcel Tournier.

HC: Who first taught you to play the harp?

MCJ: Well, I started out with my father, but it was mostly my aunt, Thérèse Hansen. She was the harp teacher in Reims. When we would go on vacation to Reims, to visit my grandparents, my aunt would teach me to practice the right way. I knew exactly what I needed to do, and she wasn’t easy on me, but she was very nice. One day, she had told me to play some scales and exercises, but I secretly opened a book on my stand and read it while I played. When she found out she was not very happy! [Laughs]

Of course, I practiced with my father, but during the two years I was at the Paris Conservatory, he didn’t want to interfere, so I studied only with Marcel Tournier.

HC: How did Pierre Jamet have you practice?

MCJ: Well, it was after I earned my diploma from the conservatory that he became really involved in my development—especially musically, and of course technically. From the moment I left the conservatory, he told me, “Now you are really going to work,” because my two years at the conservatory weren’t enough, and we didn’t learn very much. So, he had me relearn my etudes, and after that he had me practice musically. He also took me to a lot of concerts. My aunt had me practice my technique, and he taught me musical interpretation.

HC: Right, since you were after all quite young when you finished, weren’t you?

MCJ: I was 14 years old, so yes, I was very young! I remember an anecdote from when I was at the conservatory. Monsieur Tournier had me learning the Mozart Concerto, but without piano or flute, which wasn’t very interesting. Anyway, I had practiced well—I was very happy with myself—and when I finished playing, M. Tournier said, “Well okay, it wasn’t bad, but you will play it well in 10 years.” I went home crying and told my father what he had said. My father responded, “But he’s right!” That was horrible for me. Obviously, they were both right, but I didn’t understand. I was terribly frustrated that after having practiced so much nobody would even tell me that it was good, only that it would be good in 10 years. Then my father explained to me what he meant, and I understood. Years later, I finally truly understood how to play Mozart.

HC: At that time, you hadn’t even been playing the harp for very long, right?

MCJ: Well, I only really started practicing when I was 8 years old, so by then I had four years of harp.

HC: Do you remember what you played for your final exam at the Paris Conservatory?

MCJ: I remember the piece for the entrance exam was Tournier’s Féerie, and for the final exam it was the Fantasy by Noël-Gallon. I also remember that Pierre Boulez was there, because he was a friend of the family. He came to listen to my final exam. We were actually reminiscing about it a while back, and he told me, “That was a horrid piece, but I still remember the melody,” and he sang the melody! [Laughs] That always surprised me. But I never played the Fantasy again; it really wasn’t an extraordinary piece.

HC: Do you think that the level has changed?

MCJ: Oh yes, certainly, enormously! First of all the program [for the final exam] was short—just one, 10-minute piece and a sight-reading test. Granted, that wasn’t necessarily an advantage, because if you messed up during that one piece, it was over. Whereas now, students play a half-hour recital, or sometimes 45 minutes or an hour, so if one piece doesn’t go so well, you can make up for it in one of the others.

But yes, the level is much higher nowadays. In my first year at the conservatory, the required piece for the final exam was Variations by Samuel-Rousseau—for the final exam, can you imagine? Now that piece wouldn’t even be assigned for the entrance exam.

HC: You are part of the great French harp tradition. What does that mean today?

MCJ: I believe the French harp tradition is alive and well, because after all, there are French harpists employed in many different countries. That means that, beginning with Hasselmans, Henriette Renié, my father Pierre Jamet, Lily Laskine, and then me I suppose, Francis Pierre, now Isabelle Moretti and Fabrice Pierre—we each follow from those before us. We learned from the great masters, who transmitted to us what they learned from their teachers.

HC: Would you say that Grandjany and Salzedo are also part of this French School?

MCJ: Yes, for Grandjany, but Salzedo, even though he studied with Hasselmans, I would say he is not part of the French tradition or the French technique.

HC: For those who aren’t familiar with the French tradition, how would you define it?

MCJ: It’s difficult to say, but I think first of all it’s about giving students a good hand position, so that they will have good tone and be able to make the harp “sing.” Then, there’s also learning how to interpret the music. Sometimes in certain countries, students are trained like little dogs to play very fast and loud, but they don’t really know what music is. When they eventually find themselves in an orchestral situation, they are completely lost. In France, we are lucky, we learn chamber music and orchestral music, which is indispensable if you want to be a great soloist.

HC: Do you think that the French harp tradition is related to Impressionistic music, which demands a great attention to tone and color?

MCJ: Ah yes, exactly, because I think we are more capable of understanding Impressionistic music and interpreting it.

HC: You have played over 2,000 concerts around the world. Do you have any stories you could share from your performance career?

MCJ: Oh yes, of course, I have so many stories. The harp in Russia. I used to give recitals with my husband [flutist Christian Lardé], and at the time, Russia was still behind the iron curtain; it wasn’t the Russia we know today. We were welcomed [to Moscow] in an extraordinary manner by Madame Dulova, who was the harp teacher at the Tchaikovsky Conservatory.

HC: A good friend of Monsieur Jamet.

MCJ: Exactly, and she had visited me as well. We were very good friends, and she was a wonderful woman. Indeed, she was trying to move closer to the French tradition. Her technique was staggering, but she also taught musicality. She really tried to convey something magnificent, through her playing and her teaching.

So, anyway, in the course of our tour through Russia, we had taken a small plane from Vilnius to Riga, which was Russian at the time. Usually the harp would be packed into the back compartment, wedged between the suitcases, but this time there wasn’t space, so we took the harp into the cabin. Except there wasn’t enough space there either, so they put the harp standing up at the back of the plane, without even tying it down. Of course we didn’t want to take off like that, but since we were special guests they had seated us at the front of the plane and didn’t want us to be in the back with the harp. We had to insist for a long time before we finally were allowed to change our seats. We each sat on one side of the harp and held onto it for both the take off and landing! I was terrified the whole time that we might run into turbulence—the harp would have surely fallen over!

HC: You have a story about India as well, don’t you?

MCJ: Oh yes, India. It was in 1977, in Pondicherry, and when I wanted to practice in the hotel the director had the street [in front of the hotel] closed off so that the few cars passing by wouldn’t disturb me. Later, they carried my harp with eight people, arms in the air, leaping as they went. I must say that also made me a bit worried. [Laughs]

HC: Have you played in any unique or improbable places?

MCJ: We have played in so many places. I remember an absolutely extraordinary place: the Ephesus ruins, in Turkey, in front of the library. In the evening, all the roads leading to the library were lit by torches, it was absolutely magical, marvelous—a memory I will never forget. That was in the ‘80s.

HC: I’ve seen a photo of you at the Acropolis too.

MCJ: That was with the [French Radio] National Orchestra, and we also played at Persepolis. Now it’s complicated to get to Persepolis, which is too bad.

HC: What is your favorite piece to play?

MCJ: The Debussy Danses, because it has been such a big part of my life. First of all, I love Debussy. I was immersed in his opera Pelleas et Mélisande, when I was younger. My father played on the premiere recording with [conductor] Roger Desormières. Back then, the recording was released on 78 RPM vinyl discs, and we listened to it at home from morning to night. I knew the whole opera by heart! Also, my father used to play the Debussy Danses a lot, and he had me learn them too. I find that in the Danses you can hear a lot of Pelleas et Mélisande, and for me it’s an extraordinary piece.

And then, obviously, the Mozart Concerto [for flute and harp] with my husband. Those are my two favorite pieces to play.

HC: What about pieces for solo harp?

MCJ: There are so many! I love Britten’s Suite. I think it’s a magnificent piece, because it has everything, and it’s great for students. It has rhythm, it’s a very complete piece. There are just so many [solo pieces] I could mention. Another of my favorites is Une châtelaine en sa tour by Fauré.

HC: Are those also the pieces you prefer to teach?

MCJ: Oh, of course, we prefer to teach what we love.

HC: You have played with the greatest conductors of the 20th century—Boulez, Bernstein, Maazel, and many others. Which were your favorites?

MCJ: Well, there are three. The first is Charles Munch. In 1961 and ’62, I went on a tour of the U.S. with the [French Radio] National Orchestra, which he conducted, and I have to say that every concert was marvelous. He brought out the most extraordinary playing from the orchestra.

The second is Leonard Bernstein, whom I’ve played with several times. What particularly stood out for me was all the repertoire by Ravel: Alborada del Gracioso, Tzigane, La Valse, Daphnis et Chloé, etc.; and the Concerto for piano, which he played himself. He directed the orchestra by smiling at us, and it was marvelous. That man was truly perfection itself.

And finally, Pierre Boulez, who is a complete genius. He is equally great as a composer and as a conductor, and he’s interested in all the arts. I spent 16 or 17 years with the Ensemble InterContemporain, and it was a dream for me, despite the amount of work.

HC: Boulez was also very demanding.

MCJ: Yes, well, you couldn’t exactly call him a perfectionist, so let’s say he was reaching for perfection, but what he couldn’t stand were people who played without putting their heart and soul into it. That didn’t work at all; you had to be fully present.

HC: Were there some conductors you didn’t like playing with?

MCJ: That has happened, that can always happen! [Laughs] Maazel was one of the greatest conductors, but I remember a dress rehearsal of Othello at the Festival d’Orange where he absolutely didn’t conduct at all. He just sat there, moving his finger vaguely, as if he were bored. It was abominable; everyone was furious. The singers didn’t know where to sing and everything was a catastrophe. The concert was marvelous, but I don’t understand this attitude. I never saw Pierre Boulez do that, nor any other great conductors, and there are many other magnificent ones. Sawallisch was also an extraordinary conductor. But to see Maazel actually behave that way… and it wasn’t the first time for him; it was extremely unpleasant.

HC: Do you have some good memories about Pierre Boulez that you could share?

MCJ: Yes, I have many memories. I first met him when I was 10 years old, he was 17, and he first arrived at my family’s home. He didn’t know anyone in Paris. It was Ninon Vallin, a famous singer who knew my father well, who told him, “I know a young man who seems to have a lot of talent. Would you be able to receive him?” So, we found him a small room rented out by friends of ours, and my mother introduced him to [French composer Olivier] Messiaen, at the Conservatory. And voilà!

Boulez went on to become the conductor of the Renaud-Barrault company orchestra, which I also played in. It was around that time that he started the Domaine Musical, which later grew into the Ensemble InterContemporain. (The Domaine Musical only gave concerts once in a while—it wasn’t something regular.) Then, I left for Canada, and it was Francis Pierre who replaced me at the Domaine Musical. That’s how he met Luciano Berio.

HC: Would you tell us that anecdote about Luciano Berio?

MCJ: Yes, the Ensemble InterComtemporain (EIN) was going to play at a big festival in La Rochelle, and I was programmed to perform [Berio’s] Sequenza for harp. For such a big event, however, Berio wanted it to be performed by Francis Pierre, because he was the one who had first premiered it. Pierre Boulez explained to him that the performance was for the soloists of the EIC, so I would be the one to play the Sequenza. Berio agreed reluctantly, on the condition that he could hear me first.

So I played the Sequenza for Berio, completely nerve-racked, in the back of a small theater, in a little room that didn’t resonate at all. I had listened to Francis Pierre’s recording over and over again, which helped, but I didn’t play it at all like he did, because I didn’t have his strength, and I didn’t have the nails to play the effects. When I finished playing, Berio told me that it was really good, and I was shocked! He told me, “I like it because you play it differently. Now I have another version, and it’s a feminine version, which I like very much!” Following that, I recorded the Sequenza, and Berio came to listen to the recording session. We became good friends after that.

HC: Would you tell us about your father, Pierre Jamet?

MCJ: He was a fabulous man. I can’t talk too much about him because I always start crying…but he was a fabulous man. He really taught me everything. He was always there to help me, because it was not always easy with my mother. She was very harsh—she never believed what we said, which could be painful—but my father always came to my defense. He always helped me, even right up to the end. That’s all I can say about him. He was adored by all his students, and he made a marvelous class. He was irreplaceable, for me.

HC: In your opinion, what do you think he would have most wanted harpists to remember from his teaching, or his music, or from him personally?

MCJ: I don’t know what he would have wanted. I believe he was very happy; his students always showed a lot of affection for him and were very loyal to him, right up until the end. I think he would have liked it to continue like that, forever.

HC: He was also a catalyst for associations of harpists. Thanks to him, we have the World Harp Congress and the International Association of Harpists (AIHarpe.org), which I believe was the first association to unite harpists from around the world. It was very important for him.

MCJ: I think he had help from Madame Dulova and also Susann McDonald; both of them really wanted to create something. But my father had made a lot of important connections from all the tours he had done, so he evidently brought in a lot of people. It’s true that we do have him to thank for all these conferences and festivals that there are now.

HC: Why was it so important for him?

MCJ: Because he wanted to spread the French harp tradition. He had no more patience for harpists who played without a well-developed technique (“scratching,” as he would say), and so he figured that by opening the doors, he could show the world what was possible.

HC: But Vera Dulova was not from the French tradition but rather the Russian tradition.

MCJ: It was, nevertheless I think, something that approached the French tradition. Susann McDonald had studied with Grandjany, so she already had the French tradition. And Vera Dulova had a lot of admiration for my father, and I think together they achieved something very important. The Russian students arrived with a lot of technique, but perhaps lacking a bit of suppleness and musicality, and my father taught them those things.

I remember visiting the Tchaikovsky Conservatory during a tour with the [French Radio] National Orchestra. (I traveled to Russia three times and visited Madame Dulova, and two of those were to the conservatory.) During my stay, Madame Dulova had organized a small class recital where everyone played. One of the students had been practicing only exercises and etudes for the entire year—the poor thing—and so she played some of these exercises for me. I remember that one of them was a cross-fingering exercise, in thirds, and I thought it was incredible! Afterward, when I returned to rehearse with the orchestra, I wanted to try the exercise myself, but I couldn’t do it. I was extremely frustrated to realize that I didn’t know how to do it. So I set to practicing, and now I can do it. This cross-fingering exercise in thirds is really a very important exercise for finger independence.

HC: If Pierre Jamet were here now, what would he say to today’s harpists?

MCJ: He would say exactly the same thing he said before. I must say that he didn’t really appreciate contemporary music (much less than my mother, at least) and so he didn’t teach it much. It wasn’t his thing. But for the rest, he would say exactly the same thing: before setting to work and really learning your pieces, you must have a solid technical base to be able to interpret things as they should be.

HC: Would you say that grip, pressing out the sound, and tone color were important things for Pierre Jamet?

MCJ: Oh yes, pressing out the sound, that was very important to him! Though I have to say that I use it less than he did.

HC: How would you explain pressing out the sound to harpists who don’t understand the term?

MCJ: Pressing out the sound means to press a little bit on the string before playing it, to better bring out the sound. But you can only do it at slow speeds; it’s impossible when playing fast.

HC: You’ve been teaching for a long time. What do you most enjoy about teaching?

MCJ: I like transmitting to my students everything that I have learned, so that there is a continuity. That’s why I think it’s so important to play with orchestra and to play chamber music, because it opens so many opportunities. I always tell my students, “You can’t play alone all the time, because you will always be missing something.” I always try to have them learn orchestral repertoire and chamber music works, and if I can hear them in a complete chamber group it’s even better.

[pullquote]Marie-Clarie Jamet has always strongly believed in the importance of chamber music. “I always tell my students, ‘You can’t play alone all the time, because you will always be missing something.’” Following the Pierre Jamet Quintet, she founded the Marie-Claire Jamet Quintet (left), which toured together from 1959 to 1978. She also toured extensively with the Marie-Claire Jamet Trio[/pullquote]

Over the years, I’ve held a chamber music masterclass in Villecroze. The theme has always been “harp and chamber music,” so that it won’t be just harp, because I think it’s important. And then, since my father worked on the Sonata for flute, viola, and harp with Debussy himself, after all, I want to make sure that what Debussy said is transmitted. There is, by the way, a new edition of the piece that’s been published by an American who was one of my father’s students. It is very good because he wrote everything into the score that Debussy told my father.

HC: You’re referring to Carl Swanson, right?

MCJ: Yes, he created a new version based on the original manuscripts. It’s not the Durand edition, which contains a lot of errors.

HC: So, you would recommend using Carl Swanson’s version, because it contains all these corrections and precisions. What would you hope that your students remember about you and your teaching?

MCJ: I would hope that they have good memories of me, and so far that has gone well! [Laughs] I have many former students who come to see me from all over. Some of them come just to visit and not even necessarily to take lessons. I hope that they pass on to their students what I have taught them, so that the tradition continues and isn’t discarded. That’s very important to me.

HC: What advice would you give to a beginner harpist and to one wishing to become a professional?

MCJ: To start with, if you love playing the harp, you practice, and you love the instrument, that’s already something. Beyond that, you have to see, because, it’s a very difficult career; there are not a lot of positions available. So, I always say, “Do your studies, finish high school, keep practicing the harp of course, and then we’ll see if you really should pursue a music career or if it’s better to do something else and play the harp just for enjoyment.”

These days, I think you really must be exceptional to have even a mildly successful career. There are many with a calling for music, but very few who are chosen, unfortunately. There are 25 violin positions and 25 cello positions, but only one harp position in an orchestra. On top of that, certain orchestras will hire a harpist only when they need one. You shouldn’t encourage someone to become a harpist unless they are an extremely brilliant student.

HC: Have you given any masterclasses in the United States?

MCJ: I have in San Francisco, but not many in the U.S., because we never had enough time on tour. We would travel to a new city every day. I’ve also served on the jury in Bloomington [for the USA International Harp Competition], but I haven’t given a masterclass there.

HC: If someone offered to host one for you there, would you accept?

MCJ: Oh, why not? It would be a big trip for me now, but since I’m in good shape why not? I recently gave a masterclass in Switzerland, for Harp Masters. Russian harpist Irina Zing founded the program. All the students spoke English, and I had a young woman who translated for me. I speak a little bit of English, but since my husband spoke very good English, I was lazy. I left school very early, in sixth grade, so I didn’t learn English at school at all, and I regret it.

HC: Speaking of your childhood, there were not yet smaller conservatories then, were there? There was just the main Conservatory of Paris.

MCJ: Yes, there was only one—the Conservatory of Paris—and of course those in other towns throughout France, such as the conservatory in Reims, where my aunt (Thérèse Hansen) taught. I remember that there were 12 of us in the harp class at the Paris Conservatory and four of them came from Reims! My aunt had a very good class there, and there were other conservatories that were also good, but it’s not like now. Now, there is a conservatory in every district of Paris—it doesn’t compare.

That was the era when little geniuses were produced. Basically, my parents pushed me very young, and I never told them, but it was too early. From the age of 14 until I was 16, I played with the Pasdeloup Orchestra, and I practiced. It would have been better if I had gone to school and learned more subjects, because when I left school I didn’t know anything except how to read and write. That was all. I missed that greatly in my life; I had a terrible lack of education. That’s why I never push my students. “Finish high school, then we’ll see.”

I did have one student, Elsie Bedlem, who now plays for the Radio Orchestra in Berlin. She started at the Paris Conservatory when she was just 15 years old, while continuing her education at the same time. She graduated from high school while she was still in my class, and she finished her music diploma with Isabelle [Moretti], because I retired before she finished. She was very courageous. It’s not easy to juggle two studies at once.

HC: It’s true that between 1900 and 1950 it was common to leave school to study music.

MCJ: Yes, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I suffered too much from my lack of school education. There are too many things I don’t know, which I did eventually learn myself, but it’s not the same thing. English, for example—I have no foundation.

HC: True, in the case of Lily Laskine, it was even worse. She earned her music diplomas at 11 and 13 years old. Did she leave school as well, or did she continue to attend classes?

MCJ: Ah, I don’t know. I know she didn’t travel at all. It’s true that she was very young when she received her diploma. But in that era, you did music, and that was all.

HC: And what about Pierre Jamet? Did he drop out of school as well?

MCJ: Most probably, yes, because he didn’t graduate from high school either, nor did my mother.

HC: It was a choice. From the beginning, if you choose music, that’s all.

MCJ: Exactly. But afterward, when we began to travel, that’s when we realized how lacking we were in general knowledge. I remember very well my husband, Christian Lardé, who, before he knew me, spent a year in Ireland. His teacher there, Gaston Crunelle, told him, “There is a principal flute position open in Ireland, in Dublin,” and then he added (himself, the conservatory professor), “I don’t know where that is. It’s somewhere up toward England.”

Then later, when we were asked to spend six months in Canada, we were 20 and 24 years old, and we didn’t know that Canadians speak French, not either of us! Christian had quit school at a young age as well, but it was because he had polio. He played violin, but he had to abandon it because of the war and because of his illness. After the war, it was already too late for him to learn violin, so he chose the flute because he had heard the magnificent solo from Daphnis played by Fernand Dufrêne, the flutist of the National Orchestra. During his time in Dublin, he picked up English as he went, but that wasn’t the case for me.

HC: Your parents were both musicians. Can you tell us more about your mother?

MCJ: My mother was a cellist, and she also taught in Reims. She would travel back and forth between Paris and Reims, until the war made it too difficult, and then she began teaching solfège at the Paris Conservatory.

HC: She composed a piece that you played in Marseille a few days ago at the Camac Festival.

MCJ: Yes, and she wrote a Sonata for viola and harp which is magnificent. I believe she also wrote several songs for voice and harp, but I would have to search for them in the library. Otherwise, she didn’t compose much. She was married, had two children, and then the war, and she supported my father, which took up a lot of space in her life.

HC: That’s how it was for most woman in that era. [Laughs]

MCJ: And my grandfather on my mother’s side was director of the conservatory in Reims. He was the one who founded the conservatory there, just after the First World War, when Reims was still in ruins. His name was Jules Hansen, and his grandparents were Norwegian. He was an organist and also a good friend of Marcel Tournier.

HC: You have met some great musical artists over the years.

MCJ: Yes, of course, such as Paul Tortelier, a cellist. We attended some summer courses together; he was an extraordinary man. There was another cellist too, Pierre Fournier, who was really great. And of course the flutist Jean-Pierre Rampal, who was a dear friend, and with whom I played many times—it was always a pleasure. There was a lovely review by a journalist about a piece that both Jean-Pierre Rampal and my husband, Christian Lardé, played. It said, “Jean-Pierre Rampal is the eyes and Christian Lardé is the vision.” I thought that was magnificent, because it’s true. Some people are more brilliant and some people are deeper. They were very, very close friends. Now everyone has disappeared. Voilà

HC: Do you have any anecdotes you could share about Pierre Boulez?

MCJ: My father always followed what I did with Pierre Boulez, and one day my father told me, “For my 90th birthday [in 1983], I would like to play the Debussy [Danses]under the direction of Pierre Boulez, with the Ensemble InterContemporain.” I was lucky that Boulez trusted me. So, I told my father that I would ask him. I went to find Pierre, and his response was, “Of course! What date?” I told him it would be in August, for the Gargilesse festival. He immediately flipped opened his calendar. “Okay, I’m free from this date to that date, and the Ensemble will be free too, we’ll come!” He came graciously. It was such a pleasure—extraordinary! My father played, and it was a marvelous memory. I have to admit that I was nervous, though. I had gotten the Danses back in my fingers two or three days before, just in case if at the last moment he wouldn’t feel up to it I would be ready to fill in for him. But Boulez, who is normally very harsh, knew how to put him completely at ease, and it was a moment of pure happiness. Truly.

HC:  I remember that Pierre Jamet told me about his last concert. He said that when he had played the last notes, he thought, “I’ve finished, close the curtains, my show is over.”

MCJ: Yes, and since he hadn’t been playing for years, I wondered how he would manage it. But he played very well. I only regret that we didn’t make a good recording. I did record it on a little cassette tape, and we listened back to it later, but one of my nieces must have been playing with the tape because it got recorded over. We lost the only recording! Oh, I cried about it, really.

HC: Thanks to Pierre Jamet, Gargilesse, his hometown, has become the village of the harp when it held its first International Harp Festival.

MCJ: Yes, and this coming year, for the 50th anniversary of the festival, Anne [Ricquebourg] is planning a very long festival, Aug. 5–20, 2017. The festival will open at Chateauroux with the Concerto by Jean Françaix, played by Anne and me. Then, on August 10, I will play a double concerto with Fabrice Pierre, accompanied by my niece and nephew’s cello quartet. I don’t yet have the full program, but it will be nice. The theme is an “homage to the Jamet family.” Fabrice was like a grandson to my father, and also like a third, adopted son to me. [Laughs]

HC: Is there anything else you’d like to share with our readers?

MCJ: That could take a long time! [Laughs] What I can say is that I have been extremely lucky, first of all for my father—actually, both my parents, because my mother was very musical and also composed. Secondly, I was lucky for my husband, a flutist, whom I met while recording the Mozart Concerto. From that moment on, we were inseparable for 57 years. I was also very lucky to have met Pierre Boulez. Those were the three men of my life, and all three are no longer here now.

HC: Thank you very much, Marie-Claire, for this exchangeit was a pleasure!