By Cédric Vernet 
At the Vox’n Blues festival, Vincent Bucher steps in front of the camera. The harmonica player looks back on his early days performing in the streets and on the Paris Métro, his encounters with major blues figures and his dialogue with African music. He also shares his thoughts on passing music on to others before leading the festival’s harmonica workshop for the first time. A video produced by Tibo Degraeuwe as part of a three-interview series featuring Nico Wayne Toussaint and Ady One Woman Band.
As a bonus, this article also features three live clips from his performance with Soba!
🎙️ Vincent Bucher on camera
Interview by Cédric Vernet, produced by Tibo Degraeuwe.
Vincent, you are leading the harmonica workshop at Vox’n Blues for the first time. When you teach, are you trying to pass on a technique or a way of experiencing music?
A bit of both. I try to share my perspective on the language of the harmonica, particularly blues harmonica. There are technical aspects, but also things that go beyond technique: the spirit of the music, its meaning and the emotion it can convey.
You started playing harmonica in the streets and on the Paris Métro. Did that education teach you things that no conservatoire could have taught you?
I don’t know what a conservatoire would have taught me. In the streets and on the Métro, everything was direct. To me, it was like performing on stage. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, Paris had a whole street music scene. You would come across some very good musicians there, including Sugar Blue. Being able to meet them was wonderful. It truly was a scene in its own right.
You have shared the stage with musicians such as Louisiana Red and Jimmy Johnson. What valuable lesson did you learn from them, sometimes without them even having to speak?
It is difficult to put into words. There is the presence in the sound, the attitude and the way of being within the music. It is a form of both musical and human presence.
You have travelled extensively in the United States. When did you realise that you were no longer learning the blues, but living it?
I would never say that I live the blues, because to me this music is fundamentally tied to the African American experience. In a way, I am still learning it. At some point, you stop being merely a student and start playing who you are.
“At some point, you stop being merely a student and start playing who you are.”
You have explored the connections between blues and African music. Did those encounters change the way you understand the roots of the blues?
Yes, and not only its roots, but also its spirit. The contemporary African music in which I have had, and still have, the opportunity to express myself shares roots with the blues. They are kindred forms of music.
They allowed me to move beyond certain frames of reference. In blues, we sometimes remain confined by references to records. Those encounters allowed me to put other elements into practice and helped me a great deal.
At first glance, the harmonica seems simple and was historically regarded as a children’s toy. Yet it is difficult to make it sound good and it offers so many possibilities. How did you find your own voice as a harmonica player?
With time and through different experiences. Eventually, you begin to know who you are musically and understand your strengths and weaknesses. You work with all of that and gradually develop your own style.
Blues is deeply rooted in tradition. Where do you draw the line between respecting that legacy and wanting to move it forward?
I don’t draw one, because that is not my role. I am not a bluesman. I am always wary of this idea of tradition. To me, it is a bit like inspecting the work after it has been completed.
“Music is alive, and time moves on.”
Music is alive, and time moves on. What is or is not considered traditional is for others to decide. I would not presume to do so. As for bringing something new, everyone does what they can and tries their best.
The main thing is not to have mental barriers. If you want to play in what is described as a traditional spirit, that is perfectly fine. If you want to do something else, that is perfectly fine too. Everyone chooses the space in which they want to develop.
You received a Grammy nomination with the Heritage Blues Orchestra. After so many years in music, what still moves you most: a major stage, a small club or the pleasure of teaching workshop participants?
All of it, really. It depends on the day, because each experience has its own flavour. It might be a bar, a major stage or meeting students and people who aspire to become harmonica players.
Every moment is worth embracing. What matters is fully experiencing the one that comes your way.
If you could spend an evening with just one harmonica player from history, without necessarily playing with him, whom would you choose and why?
I would choose Little Walter, although I’m not sure he was very easy to get along with. It remains one of my dreams. I don’t know whether he was a genius, or even what being a genius really means, but he had something of it. I would have liked to see how he lived with that and what kind of relationship he had with his music. You should not always believe the stories people tell.
When the participants leave the Blues on Stage workshop organised as part of Vox’n Blues, what would you like them to remember from their time with you, beyond the notes and technical advice?
Above all, I hope they will have become interested in the language of blues harmonica and the spirit it conveys. I would like it to inspire them to explore it further and, if they play harmonica, to truly commit to it. More than anything, I hope they will have discovered that language.