sursee3-1.jpg (25187 octets) There is the Valley and its lake set in forest-scenery and pastures, a small country in itself, hardly touched by the clamour of the world, before the arrival of the magic waves, which can fortunately be accepted or refused by pushing a button.

High solitude, long winters encouraging meditation and friendly gatherings around the fire-place.

A country separated from the rest of the world, accessible only by crossing the mountains through a huge fir forest looking across the gentle hills of the Canton de Vaud to the far-off Alpine barrier.

A little nation sheltered from our organized disorder, live up there, quiet, thoughtful, with dextrous hands setting the passing time ; a people who have, among other old traditions, held on to fraternal choral singing.

It is good to be together, to sing together, even better than before, because young conductors, enthusiastic and competent, discharged of laborious harmony exercises which too often were the essence of our forefathers’ choirs, have led their singers to great music.

From Monteverdi to Frank Martin and Stravinski, how many works have been elaborated and brought to maturity in order to finally live a life of their own, carried not only by controlled voices but also by grateful hearts.

One breath to the rythm of the blood and here is music coming to us, transporting us beyond words and human frontiers.

A small country, a great choir: more than 125 Springs and still young because it draws only from the right sources, conducted by André Charlet’s magie wand.

Jean Villard-Gilles
Saint-Saphorin, 6th of May 1976