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It was 5 years ago already. On April 16, 2020, Christophe, an elusive dandy of French song, was one of the first personalities to be swept away by the Cavid-19 pandemic after coma days. The interpreter ofAline and Blue words died on April 16, 2020 at the age of 74after a pulmonary emphysema aggravated by the virus.
That day, it’s not just an old one Idole of the Yeya that French music lost, but a sound lover, a brilliant jack-of-all-tradeswho had been able to adapt to his time, he who was inspired by rock legends as well as new stars of electronic music.
This is anything but a coincidence that the new generation, like a golden Julien of which he was very close and with whom he engaged in parts of frenzied pétanque, had been detached from the singer revealed in the 60s. A little piece of man of 1.65 meters with abundant creativity, who lived the last 20 years of his life in an astonishing lair located Boulevard du Montparnasse.
Christophe lived in a sublime and bizarre shambles
Many years ago, like the many colleagues he invited to his house when he gave interviews, we had the rare privilege of entering the artist’s intimacy. Christophe then opened the doors of his Parisian apartment to us, a residence that actress Catherine Jacob lived before him before him. More than a place of life, a world in itself, a theater of shadows and light, a sublime and bizarre shambles like its occupant: refined, offbeat, resolutely out of time.
From the street, Truck lights purple and orange that could be glimpsed on the third floor of the building art deco that he occupied already gave an idea of the singularity of the place. But once entered, the visitor could only be taken aback, overwhelmed by the abundance of objects occupying the immense space and seized by the capitous smell of incense floating in the air of the room. A living room, like a cabinet of curiosities Both miniature concert hall, recording studio, personal museum and warehouse of its countless collections. A tail piano occupied part of the space, surmounted by photographs, partitions, sometimes scribbled by hand. Synthesizers, mixing tables, juke-boxes Vintage, 45 -round vinyls were piled up to the four corners of the room. Music was everywhere, living in space.
A strange virgin Mary with luminous hands
On the walls were hung resolutely contemporary paintings, black and white photos. Here and there, diverted objects, like this strange virgin Mary with luminous hands, or this skull, told an aesthetic between surrealism and baroque. Almost everywhere, sculptures adorned the rare spaces left empty. The table around which he sat down to receive his guests served as much support for creation as for conversation: we met a camera, an old iPhone, a vital card, a bundle of tickets, a passportall thrown there without concern.
And then there was the room. A space as theatrical as it is personal. The bed, covered with leopard skin, immediately captured the eye. This piece was his ultimate hideout, the one he only returned to silence and the first lights of the early day.
Because Christophe was a real night bird. Raised at the end of the day, it only started to live in the early evening. He composed, went out, thought and created at the time when all Paris was sleeping. In the 2000s, he joined regularly Baronone of the most trendy clubs in the capital where he had his habits. Always in search of new emotions, new encounters or new sounds, he who liked to listen Röyksopp, Gui Boratto, or Laurent Garnier, whose productions he followed with passion.
When he received his colleagues, Christophe did not hesitate to share with them a small glass of wine, or two, or three… ‘I stopped drinking ‘had he paradoxically dropped, his glass in hand, the day of our arrival at his home, leaving the journalist as prohibited.
Most of Christophe’s objects were sold at auction
At the announcement of his death, the tributes had succeeded. “”Christophe you left this evening … And tonight these are the lost paradise … We think that the people we love are eternal and they are, and you are “had written Jean-Michel Jarre, author of the texts of two albums of the singer. “A genius, a father, a brother, a friend with lost paradise “had greeted Pascal Obispo. Eddy Mitchell confided his trouble to have “lost a friend, a partner, a party companion “. In this sad month, tributes were raining, whether they come from Christine and the Queens or Nikos Aliagas. “”French song loses a part of its soul “had deplored Franck Riester, then Minister of Culture.
After his disappearance, all his objects became fragments of his legend. In November 2020, a large part of them was auction. The sale met with immense success, totaling nearly 650,000 euros – or six times the initial estimates. Among the most coveted lots: a juke-box sold to 24,000 euros, a guitar signed by Enki Bilal parties at 25,000 euros, or Its legendary blue glasses. Relics for his fans, treasures for collectors.
Since May 7, 2020, the date on which Covid has obliged, he was buried in strict intimacy, in the presence only of his wife, Véronique Bevilacqua, and his daughter Lucie, Christophe rests in the Montparnasse cemetery, just a few hundred meters from this place which was its incredible last home.
