Those years were incredibly intense and profoundly shaped me, both artistically and personally. I met people who have had a lasting impact on me, including fellow singers who have become true chamber music partners, as well as my teachers. Anne Le Bozec, in particular, instilled in me a love for Lied and French mélodie, opening the door to a repertoire that continues to inspire and nourish me.
The Conservatoire is a place where one can truly flourish, driven by a level of artistic excellence that goes hand in hand with genuine passion.

I have always been drawn to the voice, having sung in choirs when I was younger. I also had the opportunity to take part in an opera production as a member of a children’s chorus, which allowed me to observe from backstage the immense amount of work behind every performance. That experience sparked a passion for opera that has never left me.
Around the same time, I was fortunate to meet a piano teacher who introduced me to collaborative piano at a very early stage. She opened my eyes to a discipline whose richness is often underestimated.

What fascinates me most about working with singers is the intrinsic relationship between music and text: analysing why a composer chose a particular poem and how they chose to set it to music, as well as the remarkable flexibility and expressive possibilities that the human voice brings to the music. It is a very natural and organic relationship, constantly shaped by breath and speech.

It is also an endless source of inspiration for us as pianists, as we are constantly striving to recreate, on a mechanical and percussive instrument, the suppleness and lyricism of the human voice.

Whatever the setting, I would say that the level of technical and artistic commitment to the instrument, as well as the pursuit of a beautiful sound, remains exactly the same. What changes is the approach and the relationship with others.
As a soloist, one’s sense of freedom is different: every interpretative decision rests entirely on your own shoulders.
Being a Lied partner is true chamber music. There is much more discussion, with each member of the duo bringing their own inspirations, ideas and artistic choices.

As for the role of a vocal coach, it can take many different forms depending on the singers’ needs. It is also the only aspect of my work in which I regularly read from a full orchestral score ; that is, music that was not originally written for the piano. This requires a great deal of imagination in terms of orchestral colours, layers of sound and balance.
It is an approach that greatly develops one’s musical imagination and proves extremely valuable in my work as both a pianist and chamber musician.
These different activities constantly enrich one another. Finding the right balance between them can sometimes be challenging, but it is precisely what makes this profession so fascinating.

Above all, trust and mutual listening.

For a duo to endure, I believe it is essential to share the same human values. That is what allows you to continue enjoying the process of working together, sometimes for hours at a time. The way you work is just as important: sharing a love of poetry and text, attention to detail, curiosity for the repertoire, and a common artistic standard.

At the same time, it is crucial that each person retains their own personality and perspective on the score. It is through this dialogue, and sometimes these disagreements, that the most interesting interpretative choices emerge. The aim is not to think alike, but to build a shared artistic vision from our different sensibilities.

Rehearsal is one of my favourite parts of the process. It is where we explore, question ourselves and change our minds. Interpretation is not always born from an immediate intuition, but often from genuine artistic exchange.

Over time, trust grows and listening becomes increasingly instinctive. We begin to anticipate each other’s intentions, especially in performance, and we become more willing to take risks together. That is probably what I enjoy most: watching, over the years, a way of performing emerge that belongs uniquely to that particular partnership.

What struck me most was the atmosphere of openness and generosity. The exchanges were particularly enriching because we all came from different backgrounds, and the masterclasses with such inspiring artistic personalities were incredibly valuable.
I was also deeply impressed by the concert programme itself, which had clearly been conceived with genuine artistic thought. Its accessibility, the coherence of the audience’s journey through the programme, and the care devoted to the staging all reflected a real desire to create a concert experience that felt alive and engaging.
I also appreciated the importance given to pianists, who were regarded as genuine artistic partners.

Finally, attending concerts at Carnegie Hall and performances at the Metropolitan Opera was an immense source of inspiration.

To me, a vocal coach is first and foremost an external ear and a trusted artistic partner.
They accompany singers throughout every stage of building a role, supporting them not only musically but also stylistically, linguistically and dramatically.
Their outside perspective is invaluable, since what a singer feels on stage does not always correspond to what is actually perceived from the audience.

It is work that largely happens behind the scenes, invisible to the public yet deeply creative. Together, we search for a colour, an intention, a way of bringing every word to life, while always allowing the artist’s own personality to shine through.

It is an extraordinary opportunity and an important milestone in my career to be able to train within such a prestigious opera house, working there while continuing to learn alongside exceptional artists.
It will also be a completely different way of working: living to the rhythm of an opera house, attending rehearsals and performances, and witnessing the entire creative process from the first rehearsal through to the final performance.
There will, of course, be a great deal of opera repertoire, but I am equally delighted to continue exploring Lied and French mélodie through the Academy’s recital programme.

Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of this profession is being able to offer audiences a moment outside of time, to lead them through powerful emotions, encourage them to question the world around them, and sometimes even unsettle or challenge them.
The intimacy of a concert allows us to enter together into a different sense of time and a different world of imagination.
It is also a space in which we have the opportunity to convey meaningful ideas through our programming.
That is one of the things I enjoy most: creating programmes that tell a story, establishing resonances between works, and inviting audiences to listen in new ways.
Finding these reflections and correspondences between pieces is endlessly fascinating. A work never tells exactly the same story depending on where it appears within a programme. That ability to generate new resonances is also part of what makes music so rich.

In September, a project that is particularly close to my heart will be released: our first album as a duo with baritone Pierre-Yves Cras, dedicated to the German composer Rudi Stephan.
There will also be recitals with other singers, including Tamara Bounazou and Parveen Savart, as well as, of course, the Academy’s concerts, both at the Palais Garnier and Opéra Bastille, and in venues beyond the Opera itself.