Pascal Kober – Abécédaire Amoureux du Jazz

People with a keen eye are said to “have an eye for things.” Those who keep an eye on others are said to have them “under their watch.”

Anyone who has seen even a single photograph by Pascal Kober immediately understood that he is one of those people who have an eye for things—and a good one at that. As for the second category, it is only ironically that one could say that Pascal Kober has the musicians he photographs “under his watch” for he does not cast a scrutinizing gaze upon them. He doesn’t watch over them. He takes care to capture an image of them that is sure to strike a chord with viewers who “have an eye for things,” thus creating between the photographed musicians,

The photographer Pascal Kober, and the viewers/readers of *L’Abécédaire amoureux du jazz* a virtuous triangle (the opposite—as you shall have understood—of a vicious circle) that is as much a matter of obviousness as it is of magic. Is Pascal Kober a magician? No one who has idly leafed through (is that even possible?) or lovingly pored over this major work can doubt it. And this magic is precisely the magic of love. Love for the musicians, for the music that is jazz (and its peripheral idioms: the blues, funk, African music…), love for the audience, irrevocably and joyfully/dreamily swept up in the triangle mentioned above.

From the Jazz à Vienne festival (Isère)—where he spent countless hours on stage and backstage—to the festival in Pointe-à-Pitre (Guadeloupe), via those in Istanbul (Turkey) or Tangier (Morocco), Pascal Kober has traveled the globe from city to city and continent to continent to capture images that immortalize truly fabulous moments—moments that remind us of a concert we attended or make us dream of those we couldn’t make it to. There is no frustration here: reading this beautiful book, where each photograph is accompanied by a brief explanatory text, nourishes and satisfies our memory and imagination by presenting the musicians featured in it in ways that are at times unexpected, relevant, kind, surprising, or obvious…

For behind the camera, one senses a human being who is in love with the humanity of jazz musicians and eager to highlight that humanity for the humans/readers that we are.

This book is therefore a gift that one can browse through endlessly, at one’s own pace, like a sort of “visual concert,” one that we can’t wait to leaf through again and that we want to give to our loved ones, just as the musicians depicted have given us their music and to Pascal Kober their image—or rather, an image of themselves that he has captured with his eagle-eyed gaze.

Buying this book and giving it to your friends, loved ones, and family… is therefore a moral obligation for anyone who loves jazz, its artists, and the venues where it’s played.

You know what you have to do, and I’ve said enough. Enjoy the visual concert!