Melissa Weikart and her piano have proceeded through life in step, from her early classical
training to the experimental practice that defines her work today, a blending of sounds and forms that has never been so clear—and so fully realized—as on her new album, Contact. Across twelve shifting and evocative tracks that examine the connective tissue binding us to ourselves and others, the Franco-American musician’s voice and piano navigate personal and emotional terrain with clarity and nuance, forging a rich dialogue between artist and instrument, artist and self, and artist and listener.
Winner of the 2022 Nancy Jazz Pulsations emerging artist award and the instrumentalist prize at the 2023 La Défense National Jazz Competition, Weikart has released two EPs and an album as a solo artist, and one EP and an album—Surprise and Secret—with her electronic duo Beatrice Melissa. A student of jazz and ’70s folk-pop, and a keen lover of improvisation since her time at the New England Conservatory in Boston, Weikart has always conjured the confessional candor of the singer- songwriter in her music, even as she dispenses her lyrics across rich, shifting, dreamlike tableaux.
On Contact, written and arranged entirely by Weikart (aside from “New angles”), she pushes her sound further than ever before. The album is animated by a pressing need for connection, observing what brings us together and what drives us apart, and the life-saving revelations that emerge along the way. The album’s opener, “Crash,” is a dreamy telephone-hour ode, a message in a bottle, to connections new and old. On the wistful “Mesurer le vent,” Weikart conjures Debussy or Ravel, layering contrasting sounds like an Impressionist painting. The title track begins as a showcase of Weikart’s frank lyricism, a splice-reel of missed connections and wasted time, then glides into a hazy, euphoric galaxy of pleas, circling around her thesis—“I wanted to make contact”—that ushers us into “The Intersection,” a song that recalls her the beginning of her career, when it was just Weikart and her keys. “Appétit.e” is built around a sample of her down-the-hall neighbor’s drumming—another subtle, affecting gesture toward proximity and connection—while pulsating synths reminiscent of Air lend the track an unsteady atmosphere. On the Carpenters-inspired “Expectations,” Weikart muses on the relationship patterns, universal and specific, that have always been a hallmark of her songwriting.
The psychedelic “L’amour de construit” is a slow-motion fall down the rabbit hole, as Weikart
considers the way her own emotions are captured and commodified by the confining ways we think about love. The interlude—“L’amour pt. 2”—finds her near the end of that trip, shouting into the void as a last-ditch effort to rescue herself from the fall. The drums near the end of the interlude warn us that there may be no cushion for, until she is saved, again, by the power of revelation, on the confident, resilient “Not Right”—on which a show-stopping, frenetic conversation between singer and piano is gracefully interrupted by a rush of transcendent strings, lifting her back up.
On solid ground anew, “New angles,” featuring Manu Delta, creates a percussion-less groove that relies on experimental synth sounds. The 11-o’clock stunner “Catching up”—composed in a church—meets the singer in a state of ecstatic confession, bringing her to the formative memory that propels “Bicycle,” the album’s closer. Younger, more wide-eyed, she reflects on her move from Boston to Strasbourg, those early days, when Weikart had no other companion than that loyal hunk of scrap metal that took her to the shores of her own soul. She seems to suggest, on “Bicycle,” that a backward-glance is not always troublesome, not always anxiety-producing, but can be grounding: a reminder of where we come from, so that we can keep moving forward.
