Scene 3 from the cycle Chains of Sorrow.
The Footbridge is written in a Neo-Classical / Modern Classical style — a hybrid of traditional aria form with contemporary textures. Rather than staged opera, it functions as a concert aria, blending baritone solo and male chorus with chamber ensemble (strings, harp, winds, and subtle percussion).

The piece explores a moment of suspended recognition: the awareness that choices must be made, though clarity never arrives. The baritone voice carries self-questioning phrases, answered and expanded by the chorus, while the orchestration shifts between hushed reflection and urgent surges.

Not tragic but reflective, the music dwells in ambiguity, carrying the listener into the tension between doubt and resilience.

[LYRICS]

Dark were the days of deep despair,
White were the nights of solace rare;
I stood where shadows veil the air,
And sorrow’s weight consumed me there.

I stand between two roads of old,
Each with promise, bright and bold;
The bridge beneath bears not a name,
Yet none who cross return the same.

No guide remains, no hand to lead,
The heart must guard its quiet need;
For choices cut and choices bind,
But silence cuts the deepest kind.

The vessel empties, poured out free;
The stream runs dry, cut from its source.
To walk this path, I must be still;
To bear the weight, I keep my course.

What heart can give when thirsts in vain?
What hand can heal when bound by pain?
I drink from silence, breathe like tide,
That I may stand where paths divide.

The vessel empties, poured out free;
The stream runs dry, cut from its source.
To walk this path, I must be steady;
To bear the weight, I keep my course.

The vessel must fill ere it pour,
The root must drink to bloom once more.

The vessel must fill ere it pour,
The root must drink to bloom once more.

The fog awaits with quiet hand,
To test the path, to mark the stand.

I crossed the bridge, then turned around,
Unsure which side was truly mine;
The fog then curled and closed around,
And blurred each boundary line.

I crossed the bridge, then turned again,
Unsure which side was ever mine;
The fog then veiled the path I trod,
And blurred all boundary lines.

The rail was cold beneath my hand,
As the river rolled dark below;
Its voice was low, a mournful strand,
And echoed what I’ve come to know.

The rail was cold beneath my hand,
As the river rolled dark below;
Its voice was low, yet deeper still,
And echoed what I’ve come to know.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the very start;
But fog is kind to those who wait
And listen with a faithful heart.

A bell rang, time drawn in to full,
A boat slipped slowly out of view;
I felt the moment strain and pull,
Yet still I never truly knew.

Two sides, two lives, both calling out,
Yet neither one could give me peace.
The bridge became a place of doubt,
Where second thoughts find no release.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the very start;
But fog is kind to those who wait
And listen with a faithful heart.

Some choices bloom like morning light,
While others drift like distant mist.
The wiser path is rarely bright,
Yet still a truer way will persist.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the start.

But still I crossed that bridge again,
And followed what I knew was right;
And doubt itself can lead us home—
Yes, at the last, it leads us home.

The self must feed, the self must grow,
Or none may walk where choices go.
For silence guides and silence shows,
The strength that every spirit owes.

The self must feed, the self must grow,
Or none may walk where choices go.


A1-S3 The Footbridge – Aria da Concerto (Baritone • Reflective • Neo-Classical)

A reflective neo-classical aria for baritone voice, blending poetic stillness with tender emotional weight. The Gravel Path – Aria da Concerto walks through imagery of morning mist, echoing memories, and fragile resilience. The piece unfolds in a traditional operatic arc—recitativo to aria proper—with motifs of longing, regret, and quiet hope carried on gravel stone and autumn air. For listeners who seek modern opera with timeless resonance, it is both intimate and expansive: a journey of the heart along a simple path that carries profound truths.

[LYRICS]

Upon the path of gravel stone,
I walk in thought, yet walk alone.
The morning mist drifts pale and kind,
But veils the one I seek to find.

The trees lean soft with laden grace,
Their shade recalls an absent face;
Each leaf that stirs, each branch that bends,
Reminds me love may heal, or end and rend.

The air is cool, yet sweet it seems,
It stirs up echoes in my dreams.
I hear the voice in rustling leaves,
I feel the hand in autumn’s breeze.

Though distance holds what I adore,
The heart still walks, and hopes once more.
Each step is tender, cautious, and true,
Yet still it longs, as every heart will do.

The gravel path to morning
Knows nothing of regret;
Each step I take grows lighter,
Though love is distant yet.

Though distance holds what I adore,
The heart still walks, and hopes once more.

The gravel path to morning
Knows nothing of regret;
Each step I take grows lighter,
Though love is distant yet.

The gravel path to morning
Is steady, kind, and plain;
But in its dust there lies the tread
Of joy that walks with pain.

“No flame,” I say, “burns half so dire,
As love misplaced, or blind desire.
To give the heart where none will stay
Is to burn its very ash away.”

Not every ember must flare,
Some warm us as they slow;
We bank the heart, not cast it,
And guard its gentle glow.

Not every ember must flare…
Some warm us as they slow…

The gravel path to morning
Knows nothing of regret;
Each step I take grows lighter,
Though love is distant yet.

“No flame,” I say, “burns half so dire,
As love misplaced, or blind desire.
To give the heart where none will stay
Is to burn its very ash away.”

The path goes on, the soul must tread,
Yet fragile hearts may break instead.
So walk with care, let silence show,
What tender souls at last may know.

A1-S2 The Gravel Path – Aria da Concerto (Baritone • Reflective • Neo-Classical)

The Departure marks the opening of Act II — Struggle and Defiance in Chains of Sorrow (Neo-Opera). Written as an Aria da Concerto, it begins in solemn reflection, acknowledging the anchors of Act I — silence, betrayal, and fractured ideals. From that hush, the music builds into lyrical determination: fragile hope turning into courage, the heart unchained from its past.

At its height, the communal “winds” motif emerges — voices rising together in affirmation, echoing strength found in shared struggle. The aria culminates with the soaring refrain “So set your sail…” — a declaration of renewal, forward motion, and defiance of fate.

This is both a personal release and a collective call: a bridge from sorrow into resilience, from silence into song.


[LYRICS]

The morning stirs; the robins wake,
A silver quiet veils the break.
They call me back to broken ground,
Yet quiet says go; look not around.

No rusted name, no whispered blame,
Can cage a heart in yesterday’s frame.
I loose the knot that held the scar,
I take the meadow, wander far.

Lay burdens down; the pasture clear,
In every field day’s gifts appear.
Fold up the day like linen fine,
Breathe in the hush and walk the line.

Let grasses lean, then rise once more,
Let swans drift slow beyond the shore.
Learn what a faithful heart should keep:
It does not clutch; it will not weep.

We are the winds that lift the day,
We comb the dark and clear the way;
Fold up the day like linen fine,
Let quiet make the courage shine.

We are the winds that mend the seam,
We free the root to drink and dream;
No spite that stabs shall still prevail,
We turn from weight toward open trail.

We are the winds that lift the day,
We clear the thorns that block the way;
Let steady breath keep song and spine,
Let faithful steps make straight the line.

We are the winds that teach release,
We fold the day and lean to peace;
No branded wrong, no borrowed song,
Can bind the breath or choke it long.

We are the winds that wake the plain,
We shake the dust from loss and pain;
So step to ground that feels alive,
Let quiet truths return and thrive.

The world may tell me who I was,
May press me back without a cause;
Yet morning bells through branches ring,
And teach the heart to breathe and sing.

No flame shall claim the heart I bear,
No chain shall stay the steps I dare;
I name the wound and raise my will,
I break the hush and choose it still.

Not fear, not shame, nor spoken ill,
Shall bend the path my feet fulfill;
I lift the will, I keep the aim,
I walk the light and drop the blame.

We name the wound, we raise the will,
We break the hush, we choose it still;
Let steadfast breath through silence climb,
Let ringing hearts keep holy time.

We are the winds that bear the soul,
We set our path toward truer whole;
Lift up your eyes and take the lea,
Where land and light outpace the sea.

We are the winds that lift the day,
Fold up the day, then find the way;
Quiet within, and courage near,
The road grows clear, the road grows clear.

No flame shall claim the heart I bear,
No chain shall stay the steps I dare;
We name the wound and raise the will,
We break the hush and choose it still.

So set your sail, then walk the field;
Let folded peace become your shield.
Though storms may press, they will not stay,
For winds endure and clear the way.

Fold up the day and let dawn renew,
Then take the path your courage drew.
Set now your course to sky and sea,
The heart keeps faith with land and lea.

We are the winds that lift the day,
We carry hearts toward brighter clay;
So set your sail where mornings be,
Then walk the field in harmony.

A2-S1 The Departure (Aria da Concerto) (Neo-Opera • Orchestral • Baritone & Chorus)

Chorus of the Oarsmen forms the rhythmic heart of Act II — Struggle and Defiance in Chains of Sorrow (Neo-Opera). Written as a communal male chorus, it echoes the chants of laborers at sea: voices rise and fall in rowing refrains, embodying strength, comradeship, and survival.

The music is rooted in folk-like cadence yet framed within operatic scale — hand-to-hand struggle expressed through massed voices, orchestral weight, and percussive drive. Each refrain affirms endurance: every burden shared, every fall answered by rising again.

This chorus is both visceral and uplifting — a hymn of toil, scars, and unbroken will, carrying the arc of Act II toward the coming storm.

[LYRICS]

Beat by beat, we set the pace,
Hand to hand, we hold the brace.
Step by step, the burden moves,
Side by side, the labor proves.

Who will stand when trials bite?
Strength is shared to set it right.
Who will rise when feet give way?
Hands will lift and keep the day.
We will rise when feet give way.

Pull in time, and hold the line,
Pulse of hands and hearts align.

Lift and lean, then lift once more,
If we slip, we start from the floor.
Every bruise and every scar,
Marks the path of who we are.

Pull in time, and hold the line,
Pulse of hands and hearts align.
Flesh may tire and breath may slow,
Ash turns warm, and embers glow.

Glow, glow

Warm, we know

Let the fall be counted in,
Loss belongs beside the win.
When the grip grows weak with pain,
Hands return to lift again.

Count it in, two, three, four,
Rise and set, then rise once more.

Rise, O voices, rise, O will,
Fall and rise, and rise up still.
Not defeat, nor loss, nor blame,
Shall choke no breath nor starve the flame.

I will hold the weighted beam,
Set my oath and keep the team.
Name the wound and choose the way,
Stand in light and make the day.

Pull in time, and hold the line,
Pulse of hands and hearts align.
Find the start in every strain,
Beginnings live inside the pain.

Step by step and stone by stone,
None will bear the path alone.

When the wind at last meets sea,
We are ready, we will be.


A2-S3 Chorus of the Oarsmen (Neo-Opera • Male Chorus • Orchestral • Folk-rooted)

The Tempest is the collapse aria of Act II — Struggle and Defiance in Chains of Sorrow (Neo-Opera). Following Chorus of the Oarsmen, it transforms the sea into both a literal storm and a symbolic upheaval — fate breaking pride, will tested against forces beyond control.

The piece begins in hushed recitativo, recalling earlier motifs of silence and fragile hope. It swells into lyrical arioso, then surges with chorus and orchestra into a storm-driven climax: mast broken, faith tested, yet inner flame unextinguished.

Unlike a purely instrumental storm, this lyrical aria gives voice to recognition — that courage alone cannot master every gale. Its suspended resolution leads directly into The Widow’s Oath, where grief crystallizes into vow.

The Tempest stands as the emotional breaking point of Act II: an operatic storm where man and sea, fate and will, collide.

[LYRICS]

The skies grow dark, the silence breaks,
The swallows wheel, the shoreline shakes.
A whisper gathers; edges bend;
No chart can tell the tempest’s end.

The waves rise up, then tear apart,
They pull the keel and test the heart.
Like fate, the sea keeps none its due;
It takes, it breaks, it shapes anew.

Be still… hold fast…
No helm… no star…
White foam… black cast…
How near… how far…

I brace against the roaring tide,
No star above, no land to guide.
What strength I held begins to wane,
Yet still I rise and bear the strain.

If pride must bow to storm and night,
Then let the heart keep truer light.
What hands release from what is past,
The soul learns how to hold at last.

Oh storm, you lash, you tear, you rend;
You break the mast that will not bend.
No wind can choke the inner flame;
No flood can drown the breath I claim.

Rise, rise again, though breakers fall!
Stand, stand again when breakers call!
Hold, hold the line when senses fail!
Breathe, breathe in time; ride out the gale.

The storm may take, the storm may bind,
Yet strength is forged in heart and mind.
The path is scored by wind and rain,
Still we go on; our hearts remain.

The sea forgets, the stars look on;
The vow remains when light is gone.
The hush grows cold; the echoes blur;
A widow’s oath begins to stir.

A2-S4 The Tempest (Neo-Opera • Aria da Concerto • Baritone & Chorus • Orchestral)

No Time Is Lost serves as the luminous choral aria of Act III — Loss and Aftermath in Chains of Sorrow (Neo-Opera). Where private grief has weighed earlier scenes, this aria expands sorrow into collective memory and affirmation: loss is transcended by remembrance, and memory itself becomes truth.

Opening in hushed recitativo, a solo voice recalls silence and fragile names. The chorus soon enters in ceremonial cadence, weaving a communal vow: “No time is lost, nor left behind, when held in song and kept in mind.” The music swells from intimate invocation into radiant canon, before resolving in a quiet benediction.

Equal parts elegy and hymn, No Time Is Lost transforms mourning into shared resilience. It is a communal ritual of remembrance, where every voice keeps the flame alive.

[LYRICS]

The hush of silence, soft yet near,
Still holds the names I keep most dear.
No moment fades, no truth has died,
They live as echoes, kept inside.

No time is lost, nor left behind,
When held in song and kept in mind.
No time is lost, nor left behind,
When held in song and kept in mind.

Come hold a name within your heart,
And let its light refuse to part.
If you remember, breathe one tone,
We’ll keep it living as our own.

Bring forth a vow you seldom speak,
Restore the bond the years may seek.
Together raised, no flame shall die,
Our voices keep it, you and I.

O memory, thou lantern flame,
You guard the heart, you speak the name.
Though flesh may fail, though stone may fall,
Your light remains to hold it all.

No time is lost, nor left behind,
When held in song and kept in mind.
No time is lost, nor left behind,
When held in song and kept in mind.

What silence steals, we give again,
In living song through voice of men.
The years may turn, the night may stay,
But memory walks a brighter way.

What silence steals, we give again,
In living song through voice of men.
The years may turn, the night may stay,
But memory walks a brighter way.

O let no silence steal away,
The truths our hearts have carved to stay!
Though death may come, though night descend,
The memory holds, it shall not end!

No time is lost, nor left behind!
No time is lost, nor left behind!
No time is lost, nor left behind!
No time is lost, nor left behind!

So let the living voices rise,
A thousand stars in mortal skies.
The soul may fade, but not the flame
The memory keeps us, name by name.

The soul may fade, but not the flame
The memory keeps us, name by name.

A3-S4 — No Time Is Lost (Choral Aria • Neo-Opera • SATB & Soloist • Orchestral)

Ashes in the Shape of You is a grand aria of Act III — Loss and Aftermath in Chains of Sorrow (Neo-Opera). It begins in quiet grief, the baritone voice tracing memory in ash and smoke, answered by a hushed chorus.

Through lyrical arioso and cantabile expansion, remembrance deepens into recognition: love remains in what endures, even as flame and presence fade. The aria rises into a determined cabaletta, where grief is not abandoned but carried forward — transfigured into strength.

This scene embodies intimate remembrance made universal, closing with the refrain: “Ashes… in the shape of you.”

[LYRICS]

The fire is gone… the room stays warm.
The smoke hangs low… the quiet forms.
The walls remember what we knew,
Outlined in ash… the shape of you.

Your touch still lives where embers stayed,
A faint perfume of what we made.
Each breath I draw pulls memory through,
From coals that glow… the heart turns true.

Ashes… in the shape of you.
No flame left… yet the burn feels true.
Every breath pulls the memory through.
From what was left… you’re all I knew.

The clock keeps time in tender air,
Yet hours pale… you are not there.
Each minute casts a deeper hue,
A room of ash… the shape of you.
I trace the marks the fire drew,
They bloom again… as if they knew.
I try to breathe a clearer view,
But smoke returns… and brings you through.

Be still… breathe slow…
Hold fast… let go…

Some flames give up to sudden rain.
Some fade so slow… yet prints remain.
I sweep the floor… the lines break through,
Drawn back to life… the shape of you.

I press my palm where soot is thin,
A shadow hand invites me in.
The room is quiet, dusk is new,
And still it writes… the tale of you.

Ashes… in the shape of you.
No flame left… yet the burn feels true.
Every breath pulls the memory through.
From what was left… you’re all I knew.

If fire must end, then let it teach.
If light must fade, what can I reach?
A softer spark, a kinder view,
A way to live… and carry you.

I lift the latch, I face the night,
I claim the wind, I keep a light.
If ashes call, I will stand new,
I will not drown in only you.
Let morning rise, let windows blue,
Let love be more than smoke and rue.
From ember’s edge a life breaks through,
I choose the path… and carry you.

Ashes… in the shape of you.
No flame left… yet the burn feels true.
Every breath pulls the memory through…
In the ashes… shaped like you.

A3-S2 — Ashes in the Shape of You (Grand Aria • Neo-Opera • Baritone & Chorus • Orchestral)

A slow and melancholic piano piece, inspired by the fragility of time and fleeting emotions. Written in a modern classical style, it blends simplicity with deep emotional resonance. Perfect for reflective moments, cinematic atmospheres, or quiet storytelling.

All Rights Reserved. For licensing or project use (games, films, etc) please contact me : blb.composer@gmail.com

Wake Up

~ LAAPS 048 ~ [SEQ.06 - LP48]

artist : Ensemble 0
album : L'Incroyable Femme Des Neiges
duration : 26.40 mn
date : November 12th, 2025

edition :
-  vinyl : limited to 200 copies / white LP / selective UV varnish (front+back) / hand numbered 
- cd : limited to 150 copies / pantone / hand numbered + handcrafted, sealed

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pre-order : October 23rd, 2025 / official release : November 12th, 2025
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Composition and arrangements: Joël Mérah, Stéphane Garin, Sylvain Chauveau

Performed by:
Jérôme Capdepont - trombone
Sylvain Chauveau - acoustic guitar
Vianney Desplantes - euphonium, tuba, flugabone
Tanguy Gallavardin - clarinets
Júlia Gállego Ronda - flutes
Stéphane Garin - percussion, piano, organ
Joël Mérah - acoustic guitar, piano, ukulele, organ, harmonium

Recording and mixing: Johannes Buff, Shorebreaker studio (Tarnos, France). 
Assistant: Xan Bidegain
Artistic director: Joël Mérah
Administration: Nicolas Michamblé

Thanks to Alexandre Maillet, Vanessa Pigot, Laurie Garcia Garin et Sébastien Betbeder.

Mastered by Simon Lancelot
Artwork by Jonathan Smith
Design by Sprflxgrfzm
 
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Links :
https://laaps.bandcamp.com/music
www.instagram.com/iikki_laaps/
https://www.ensemble0.com/
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℗ & © 2 0 2 5 - L A A P S - L A A P S 0 4 8

Ensemble 0 - Les Grands Espaces

🕊️ Where The Birds Gather Before Their Passage South
The leaves wear their late-season glow, mist drapes the fields like breath, and the first birds begin to gather — circling in silence above the treetops, readying themselves for the long journey south. It is a moment of transition: summer has faded, the day leans into dusk, and the wind begins to whisper of distant warmth.

The music follows this quiet movement, not with haste, but with remembrance. Its sounds unfold like light dissolving into stillness — gentle, breathing, full of foreboding. What fades does so not abruptly, but like a thought slowly slipping away. And as all things retreat into slumber, a long sleep begins — not as an end, but as a promise: that something will return, when the time is right.

Where The Birds Gather Before Their Passage South

As Wolf Hagen, I compose music for the silence between the notes. Drawing from the tradition of great masters like Bach and Pachelbel, I find inspiration to weave baroque clarity with the emotional complexity of our time.
The interplay of piano and cello stands at the heart of my work – two voices that complement, challenge, and exist in harmonic tension with each other. I add orchestral elements with care, never to dominate, but to open spaces: for reflection, for stillness, for those precious moments of pause.
My compositions are not statements, but invitations – to discover hidden emotions, to find quiet in a noisy world.

Compositeur & sound designer, au service de paysages sonores immersifs pour jeux vidéo, films et projets interactifs. Un univers musical façonné par l'éclat des vagues, les profondeurs et les textures.

https://benlbcomposer.github.io/benjaminlebars/

I’ve always lived at the crossroads of music and poetry — where feeling becomes form, and melody turns memory into meaning. Whether it’s a lingering jazz note, a well-placed rhyme, or a shift in tempo that tells a deeper story, I’m drawn to that quiet magic where art reflects life with a little more style.

My roots are in classic music — the kind that doesn’t chase the moment but lingers with you long after the last note. Over time, that love expanded into poetry writing and jazz — especially the kind that swings, speaks, and smirks all at once. Jazz, to me, isn’t just a genre; it’s a personality. A conversation. A little tilt of the head and a grin that knows more than it says.

When I set out to create an album, it’s rarely just a collection of songs. I approach it like a personal playlist — one that drifts and flows as if the entire tracklist were one long, uninterrupted piece. Each track leans into the next, shifting mood, pace, or voice, but always carrying the same thread of feeling. I want you to listen the way I do — not as a shuffle of moments, but as a cinematic arc. One breath that lasts an hour.

Lyrically, my work is rooted in lived experience. Sometimes it’s obvious. Other times it’s just the skeleton of a memory, dressed up in wit, irony, or longing. I draw from real-life events, then let the poet in me twist, stretch, or sweeten them to taste. Depending on the tone of the album — playful, romantic, nostalgic, or something in between — I try to keep the emotional truth intact while giving it a fresh coat of creativity. A little humor where it fits. A deeper dive where it hurts.

My newest jazz album continues this tradition — short-lined swing tracks, conversational duets, and tongue-in-cheek storytelling. It’s an homage to late-night alleyway ballads, rooftop serenades, and train station goodbyes — all bound together with a sense of charm and cohesion. Each song is its own little scene, but together they tell a story — one you can revisit with each replay.

Thanks for stopping by my profile. I hope you find something that earns a spot on your repeat-play list — a melody, a lyric, or a moment that feels like it was written just for you.

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each release start with the end of the previous one.
in sounds and visually. 
an exquisite corpse with 100 releases which will make the loop.
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New tracks tagged #modern-classical