With the release of his two-track EP Kelc’h Digor on July 12, 2025, French composer and sound designer Éric Vercelletto offers listeners a captivating return to form — and a deep dive into sonic storytelling rooted in both heritage and imagination.
Meaning “Open Circle” in Breton, Kelc’h Digor weaves together impressionistic jazz, Celtic tradition, and minimalist textures to form a sound that feels simultaneously ancient and modern, intimate yet boundless. Through subtle synths, evocative percussion, and emotive piano work, Vercelletto builds a vivid instrumental landscape inspired by Breton dances and vocal traditions, but told through a personal, exploratory lens.
The cover art — a traditional piece of embroidery from Vercelletto’s native Pays Bigouden — visually echoes the music’s intent: to be both a nod to the past and an invitation to join something greater. These two tracks are more than just compositions; they’re sonic open circles — loops of memory, connection, and creative dialogue.
We sat down with Éric Vercelletto to talk about the making of Kelc’h Digor, his relationship with Breton musical heritage, the evolution of his compositional style, and where his musical path is headed next.
Interview with Eric Vercelletto
Éric: The words themselves carry a paradox — a circle suggests enclosure, while openness invites movement and freedom. But that contradiction reflects life itself. Sometimes, breaking out of the circle is necessary to grow. The circle can guide, but it can also confine — Kelc’h Digor explores that tension.
Éric: It came naturally — not from a desire to create fusion, but from years of immersion. I’ve been surrounded by Breton and Celtic music since the ’70s, and smooth jazz since the ’80s. Over time, those influences became my musical language. It felt intuitive to wrap a traditional melody in jazz harmonies, or let a jazz chord progression flow into a Celtic phrasing. Kelc’h Digor grew from that space where genres meet without clashing — where emotion and balance take the lead.
Éric: You’re right — the piano isn’t typical in Breton or Celtic traditions. But I had the chance to learn traditional instruments like the bombarde from musicians deeply rooted in that culture. That gave me access not just to the notes, but to the spirit of the music — the feel of the dances, the pulse behind the melodies.
At the same time, my harmony teacher in the ’90s helped me internalize more global harmonic concepts, all while staying true to my ears and my heart. Composing for piano was really about letting both sides meet — the intuitive and the studied — and finding a sensitive, organic balance.
4. You often return to Breton heritage in your work. What keeps bringing you back to it?
Éric: Melodies are always floating through my mind — sometimes new, sometimes traditional, sometimes a blend. Breton music is monodic and doesn’t traditionally use chordal instruments, which leaves a huge creative space for harmonization. That’s the playground I’m exploring: infusing those melodies with a harmonic depth that feels natural, never imposed.
Éric: Our cultural legacy isn’t just sound — it’s also language, symbols, craft. The Breton language itself is still alive, closely related to Welsh, Cornish, and Gaelic. And in my home region of Pays Bigouden, embroidery is rich with centuries of encoded meaning. Each pattern speaks, and their combinations tell stories. I see music as part of that same fabric — not isolated, but in dialogue with all forms of expression. That’s how I try to live and create.
6. Kelc’h Digor feels both intimate and expansive. How did you build those sonic textures?
Éric: I guess that duality comes naturally — maybe because I’m a Gemini! More concretely, the foundation was a traditional dance suite performed on bagpipes and bombarde by my longtime friends Bernard and Jean-Pierre, whom I’ve danced with for decades. Those instruments are raw and powerful — difficult to blend.
I spent time digging through my vintage synths to find pads and electric piano textures that could sit next to them without overpowering. I also added touches of oriental percussion to build rhythmic layers. The sound engineers brought everything together beautifully, creating something unexpected yet totally coherent.
7. As a composer and sound designer, how did you balance those roles on this project?
Éric: I focused heavily on orchestration alongside Gustavo Roriz, the incredible Brazilian bass player. We worked with the instruments we had — acoustic and electric — and I built the synth textures from my own library of vintage gear. It was a process of trial, instinct, and exploring unfamiliar sonic ground.
8. Where does Kelc’h Digor sit in your artistic journey? A continuation or a fresh start?
Éric: In many ways, it’s a restart. I hadn’t released music in years, but the creative thread was always there, quietly weaving itself. This project is a distillation of reflections, experiences, and collaborations accumulated over time. So yes — both a continuation and a departure.
9. Are there future projects on the horizon that continue this exploration?
Éric: Kelc’h Digor is part of a larger 10-track series I’m releasing progressively. The overarching idea is about cultural blending — musicians from different countries coming together to carry a message of peace and harmony. Music is powerful. It’s alchemical. It transforms.
10. For new listeners, what do you hope they feel when they press play on Kelc’h Digor?
Éric: The piece opens with a chill, spacious feel — a lyrical phrase on fretless bass. That gradually evolves into a trance-like groove, with oriental percussion and a synth sound inspired by Lyle Mays. The idea is to gently awaken the body, then slowly lead it into dance. By the end, you’ll find yourself swept up in the energy of the Jabadao, a traditional Breton dance full of wild, collective motion.
Kelc’h Digor is available now on all major platforms. Whether you’re a longtime fan of Celtic music or simply drawn to sonic storytelling with depth and emotion, Éric Vercelletto’s latest work is a powerful open invitation to connect — through memory, movement, and melody.
