Interview with Vincent Bélanger
Raised in a four-generation musical family rooted in Québec’s classical tradition, Vincent Bélanger grew up surrounded by music. That early immersion led him to pursue music on his own terms, expanded by a deep fascination with recorded sound. In this conversation, Bélanger reflects on finding his voice within a legacy, what he carried forward from studying with figures like Yo-Yo Ma, and how his work in the audiophile world has influenced the way he composes, records, and listens. He also dives into the making of Songe, and why, in the end, the goal isn’t perfect sound, but something that makes you feel.
Apos: You come from a four-generation musical family, and one profile says you gave your first cello concert at 12. How has playing music evolved for you over the years? Did it feel like an inheritance? A requirement? Something you always felt ownership over? Was there a moment when you felt like you discovered your own voice?
Bélanger: Music was never something that was imposed on me, it was just… there. Like a normal job at home.
My family has been connected to music for generations in Québec City. My grandfather’s name (Edwin Bélanger) is engraved on the Plains of Abraham, and my father (Guy Bélanger) was the founder of Opéra de Québec, so very active in opera, orchestral work, and the lyric arts. The Bélanger name has been around in that world for over a hundred years.
But I never experienced that as pressure. It felt more like something being passed down, a kind of continuity.
At the same time, my father used to tell me something very simple when I was a teenager and not practicing as I should. He believed I had talent but it was up to me to do something with it.
And that says a lot about him. Anyone who has met him knows how respectful he is of people’s choices. For me, that was exactly what I needed. It gave me both freedom… and responsibility.
So my relationship with the cello, and with classical music in general, was never forced: even if that’s often the story we see in films.
The real turning point came later, when I was studying in France. That’s where I made the decision, consciously, to dedicate my life to music. It’s also where I started to build my own identity to make a name for myself, in every sense.
And ironically, the French had a hard time with my name: Bélanger became Béranger, Bellenger… sometimes something else entirely. In a way, it reflected a bigger truth: even if we share the same language, Québec and France are very different cultures.
That period helped me understand something important: my voice wouldn’t come from trying to fit into a lineage, but from accepting who I am within it.
To this day, my father and I never stopped sharing our passion for music: he was my artistic assistant for the recording of Songe. He is still part of my journey.
Apos: You studied with Yvan Chiffoleau and took masterclasses with Yo-Yo Ma and Lluis Claret. What did each of those teachers leave in your playing that listeners can still hear on Songe?
Bélanger: Yvan Chiffoleau gave me color, explained how to use the bow properly to control more of the sound, and above all, that constant search to make the cello resonate as much as possible. He’s a true colorist, and I still try to carry that in my playing.
In many ways, I feel like I really understood the cello with him.
The funny thing is, the first lessons were actually quite tough. Because he was very direct, in that very French way, and everything happened in front of the other students, maybe eight or ten of us. So it was intense.
By the third lesson, he was getting impatient and started using me as an example in front of the class. At that point, I just put my cello down and said:
“Listen, I came here to learn. If I came across as arrogant, I’m sorry. I know exactly where I stand — and I don’t have to be here if you don’t want me.”
He looked at me, smiled a little, came closer… and showed me exactly what I needed to understand.
After that, everything changed. The lessons became really focused, really productive.
With Yo-Yo Ma and Lluis Claret, it was something else: more about style, more about freedom. I still remember Yo-Yo Ma asking us, “Can you be more… crazy?” That stayed with me because I took it as an invitation to go beyond control, toward freedom.
On Songe, all of that comes together: the color, the structure, the style, and that sense of freedom. If you listen carefully to "Dialogue" and "Passage ancien", you can really hear that freedom because I asked Etienne Lafrance (doublebass) to improvise.
Apos: You’ve said that recorded sound became a serious fascination for you around 2011, and you later became Audio Note UK’s musical ambassador. What was the moment that made you realize hi-fi reproduction could become part of your artistic life rather than just a playback medium?
Bélanger: Hi-fi gave me an extraordinary sense of freedom.
To really understand classical music, you have to hear what’s actually written: the details, the nuance. Too often, we compress dynamics, we try to fix things that don’t need fixing… and we lose something in the process. Mostly we lose emotion.
Today, in my artistic direction, I try to keep those details even in things like the sound of the room, or small human noises. Of course, everything has to be handled with care, because you don’t want to distract the listener. But when it’s done right, those human elements actually bring more emotion.
The voice is a good example. With Amélie Moïse, in "Pour ma sœur en allée" the voice is very far back at first: low, soft, almost intimate. She has that kind of voice where even if you’re not familiar with opera, you connect with it right away.
But at the end, I bring her up an octave. It catches you off guard. And suddenly, that same softness becomes intense. The emotion just opens up.
That’s exactly what I had in mind and hi-fi allows me to reproduce it. On a more ordinary system, it’s much harder to perceive that transformation.
On my side, recording is no longer about perfection. It’s about emotion.
Apos: For audiophiles using Songe as a reference disc, are there certain tracks that are better for judging imaging, timbre, detail, microdynamics, etc?
Bélanger: I think the strength of Songe is really in its dynamics plus the contrasts, the range, and the way things can shift.
I wanted to write music that musicians actually enjoy playing. Because when there’s real pleasure in the performance, you’re not just recording sound anymore — you’re capturing something lived. That’s where it goes beyond hi-fi.
To really crystallize that emotion, we even did a concert, we had around 200 people, just before the recording. It helped bring everything to life in a very real way before capturing it.
My compositions in Songe pushed all the instruments a bit outside of their usual roles.
The double bass, for example, is not just accompanying with pizzicato. At times it becomes a solo voice, even going higher than the cello or the violin, like in "Songe" or "Comme un tango".
With the harp, it was important for me to work with someone who truly knows the instrument. Annabelle Renzo is a very accomplished musician: she plays with major Canadian’s symphony orchestra, has been involved in contemporary music ensembles, and has a deep understanding of her instrument.
I tried to explore both sides of the harp: the expected, more traditional gestures like arpeggios, and something more aggressive, more physical. "Solitude" is actually the first piece I’ve written without the cello, which gave me a completely different perspective.
And the cello, like in my previous albums (Pure Cello, Conversations), is used in a very wide range almost as an instrument of extremes.
When I recorded Conversations, I really hoped it would lead to a tour, but it never quite happened. So "Comme un tango", which is now one of the most appreciated pieces, had never actually been performed in concert after it creation (December 2015) before the concert rehearsal in Mirabel (December 2024). Now, I want to tour everywhere and we will.
Looking at feedback, some pieces seem to stand out right away: "Fée" and "Comme un tango", especially.
"Cantilène" and "Tout est dit", particularly the ending, are more intimate, more delicate.
And then pieces like "Dialogue", "Passage ancien", and "Songe" go into something more powerful, more expressive.
If you listen more technically, pieces like "Choc" and "Solitude" are interesting for texture and articulation. And the whole album plays a lot with dynamics and contrast.
Sometimes, to really understand my writing, it takes a few listens. Of course, every composer hopes to be understood right away! But I always encourage listeners, if they have doubts, to come back to it two or three times.
I’m sharing all of this so the reader understands the level of work behind it, the attention to all these micro-details we keep coming back to. At the end, that’s what a system has to reproduce. I would be curious to know what your audience think. Which track of Songe is the most demonstrable?
My goal is not analysis. It’s to let yourself fall into it.
Apos: You’ve spent years in the audiophile world through Audio Note UK. Has that changed the way you perform and record? D you now think differently about mic distance, phrasing, dynamic contrast, or instrumental color because you know how revealing high-end playback can be?
Bélanger: Definitely. The micro-detail aspect changed a lot for me.
But just as important are the people I’ve met. Spending time with audiophiles around the world really gave me confidence in my music, and in what it can do in a system.
Hi-fi is a beautiful passion. It really changes the energy of a house.
I also feel very lucky. Year after year, I’ve been able to represent Audio Note and play my own recordings in that context. It’s a unique position. I would love to see more companies take a musician, support them, and really include them in what they do.
I remember a moment in the fall of 2015, a few months after recording Pure Cello, when I was doing a Hi-Fi Show and had just received some final mastered files. During these demos, I usually play live, and then I play along with the system. At that moment, every time I played a low F-sharp, the room reacted. It sounded a bit boomy. Then we played Pure Cello. And every time that same note came up, the room reacted the same way.
At one point, I reversed it. We played the recording first, and then I played. A listener came up to me after and said:
"Mr. Bélanger, you completely changed the way I listen. When I heard the track, I thought: the system is boomy… and when you played, I thought: the cello is boomy. Then I realized how absurd that was."
Everyone listens differently, but in the end, we’re all looking for something that feels real.
Songe is really about finesse: in the emotion, of course, but also in the orchestration, in the nuance. And today, we have the tools to do that. We don’t have to smooth things out anymore. We can let the music breathe.
As you can read, I was very influenced by Peter Qvortrup at Audio Note UK. I spent about six years learning from his team and I still continue to do so. Not just technically, but in how to really listen.
People asked me often what I like or dislike in Hi-Fi. My answers is always this: I fell in love with the AudioNote Empress monoblocks, based on 2A3 tubes. For me, a system doesn’t only prove itself when it’s loud. It also proves itself when it’s quiet. That’s where emotion happens. In the contrast, in the fragility… in what’s almost not there.
Apos: Songe was recorded at Saint-Benoît Church in Mirabel. What did that room give you that a conventional studio couldn’t?
Bélanger: Space.
The instruments were able to breathe.
The churches of Québec are famous for this. I like to say they are like true acoustic Stradivarius. The space itself shapes the sound in a way no studio can replicate.
For this recording, we chose to play facing the nave, because we found that the definition and presence of the five performers were more compelling from that orientation.
What I particularly love is how Amélie Moïse’s voice behaves in that space. In moments of silence, her voice seems to travel backward into the church. It creates an illusion, as if the listening space suddenly doubles in depth.
This is also why I am preparing a tour in these churches over the coming years. The acoustic is not just a setting, I feel it is part of the music itself.
Apos: How much of the album’s sound came from room strategy and placement before anyone even hit record?
Bélanger: In a place like Saint-Benoît, the natural reverb is beautiful, but it can quickly blur things if you’re not careful. So positioning the musicians was a central concern of the project.
We chose our orientation very carefully. By facing the choir and still opening into the nave, we could shape how the sound came back to us. The early reflections stayed clear, and the longer reverb added depth without washing everything out.
Instead of controlling the room, we were working with it.
The distance between the musicians also mattered a lot. It gave each voice its own space, while still allowing everything to blend naturally. For me, that’s important: you should be able to follow each instrument but still feel the group as one.
Then the microphones just followed what was already working in the space.
A big part of what you hear on the album comes from those choices.
That’s really how I see it: the sound is revealed through placement, listening, and intention.
Apos: Jay Lee from Jay’s Iyagi is credited as an executive and artistic producer, and as a co-producer on streaming credits. What did Jay hear, push, or insist on that materially changed the final album?
Bélanger: Jay is first and foremost a friend.
At one point, when things felt like they were falling apart, he was really there for me.
He did a bit of everything — recording, listening to mixes and masters, helping with decisions… and sometimes, honestly, acting like my psychologist.
He has an incredible ear.
During the recording, I was focused on the music plus the ensemble and Jay was taking care of everything on the technical side.
He told me afterward that we were actually very close to a disaster.
During the concert, we had a narrator between the pieces, using the church microphone, the priest’s mic. During the soundcheck, the team kept hearing some strange noise and couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.
They didn’t tell me, so I could stay focused. At one point, Jay went to check the priest’s microphone… and it was still on.
We can laugh about it now, but he confessed later to me he was really stressed. I had no idea!
That’s also who he is: completely focused, protecting the process, making sure everything works without ever disturbing the music.
Working with him is a real privilege. Not just because of what he knows, but because of how he approaches things.
When things got complicated, he tried to stay calm… while I got a bit more expressive. Somewhere between the two, we found the right balance.
In the end, he helped hold the whole project together.
Apos: If an audiophile buys Songe as a test album, what do you hope happens after the analysis is over? Is the real goal to evaluate gear, or to get the listener to forget the gear entirely and just fall into the music?
Bélanger: One of the most meaningful comments I received came from David Cope, who was part of the Pure Cello team, was that he felt he had to keep listening.
That’s exactly what I hope for: to give time back to the listener. Songe was conceived musically first. On some systems, it can even be a bit demanding. But the mix and mastering were always guided by the music.
Jay and I listened to it on many different systems before we approved the final sound.
After more than 15 years in the audiophile world, I’ve noticed two ways of listening:
a more technical one and a more musical one.
I don’t see them as opposed. I think they complete each other. And I believe Songe speaks to both.
With my previous albums, Là, Pure Cello, Conversations, and the first album with Les 9 de Montréal, I’ve always been very involved in the final result.
Jacques Roy, who worked on Pure Cello and Conversations and has been nominated for multiple awards, once told me: If the music is well felt, people will follow.
That became my motto.
In the end, that’s what matters most, no compromise on emotion. The emotion I try to express… and the one the listener feels.
Apos: Across Là, Pure Cello, Conversations, your work with Les 9 de Montréal, and now Songe, there seems to be a recurring desire to bring live musical truth and audiophile listening closer together. Where do you want to push that idea next?
Bélanger: I’d like to push things toward something more integrated where playing, recording, and listening are not separate anymore, but part of the same gesture.
For me, the next step is to think about music from the very beginning with how it will be heard in mind. Not just writing for instruments, but also for space, acoustics, and the way people will actually listen.
That’s part of the tour I’m developing in the churches of Québec. These places are not just venues but instruments. Each one has its own sound, and I want people to experience that directly, not only through recordings.
I also want to keep building with my team: Louis Morneau, Pranas Gudaitis, Jacques Gérin-Lajoie, and Jay Lee. What we have together is special, and I feel we’ve only scratched the surface.
Songe itself is really the result of that teamwork, from the musicians to the technical side. Everyone was deeply involved, and you can hear that.
Saint-Benoît still has a lot to offer. I’m already thinking about a Songe 2, and also continuing to develop Les 9 de Montréal. I’d like to expand the palette a bit, maybe bring in new instruments, more acoustic percussion, and push the ensemble further.
I already have new pieces in mind.
And there are dreams too, like recording in the churches of Vilnius with Pranas. Different spaces, different energies… but always the same idea behind it.
I’d also like to thank APOS for helping this music reach the U.S. audience. I really wish us success. There is also incredible churches in the U.S. as well. Pure Cello was recorded in one of them. If anyone has an idea, let’s do it!
