There was Peter Rabbit, there will be Brunö Lapin. Much less ethereal than Beatrix Potter’s little children’s hero, sketched in penstrokes, this rabbit nevertheless still has the power of subversive disobedience. Out of the frame, fast, and never quiet. The way in which the music of the trio of Sophie Bernado, Jocelyn Mienniel, and Clément Petit is thought out and played could be summed up by the French expression “sur le fil”: edgy. “Sur un fil,” these words are used very often by the cellist, in referring to the compositions and the balances of this CD. A fortunate paradox. Apart from the Première élegie, each title boils down to one word. It’s head-on in the power of its invention, with a magnificent fragility in its somersault and mysteries. Voluble without being loquacious, Brunö Lapin’s music captures you with its secret aspect.

We mention Peter Rabbit above. So is this jazz for kids, Brunö Lapin? Three invented characters riding in the alfalfa, going crazy to the sound of Shorty Rodgers? Not really, not at all. Brunö Lapin (Brunö Rabbit) is a trio. And if the trio’s name baffles you, that’s perfect. As perfect as the balance at the heart of the exchange of the triad of bassoon, cello and flute . Balancing and reconciling the written and the improvised, the traditional and the contemporary. This is where the trio’s own subversion stirs.

A chamber instrumentarium, classical and intimate, for music that will always go elsewhere. Far, far away. Very clever, that Lapin. Based on the instruments’ swapping their roles, almost eschewing their usual sound and functions, jumping on patterns played ad lib, with clarity coupled with perfect assurance.