Born from a creative residency at the Lormandière lime kiln site in Chartres-de-Bretagne, with the support of the Département d’Ille-et-Vilaine and Les Tombées de la Nuit, François Audrain’s album Melancholia is a vibrant tribute to the working-class sites and histories that still inhabit these buildings and places of collective memory.
From June 2025 to October 2026, Rennes-based singer-songwriter François Audrain will be touring the département, visiting sites that are emblematic of Ille-et-Vilaine’s industrial past – the granite quarries of Louvigné-du-Désert and the Brais mine in Vieux-Vy-sur-Couesnon. Immerse yourself in the memory of each of these places by exploring the site and taking part in public mediation activities. Drawing on a blend of chanson française, trip-hop and industrial sounds, François Audrain gently layers his voice over light and dark rock melodies. Melancholia is both intimate and powerful, echoing the buried stories of those we used to call the “common folk” – the workers, labourers and anonymous figures whose lives have shaped our heritage.
Born from a creative residency at the Lormandière lime kiln site in Chartres-de-Bretagne, with the support of the Département d’Ille-et-Vilaine and Les Tombées de la Nuit, François Audrain’s album Melancholia is a vibrant tribute to the working-class sites and histories that still inhabit these buildings and places of collective memory.
From June 2025 to October 2026, Rennes-based singer-songwriter François Audrain will be touring the département, visiting sites that are emblematic of Ille-et-Vilaine’s industrial past – the granite quarries of Louvigné-du-Désert and the Brais mine in Vieux-Vy-sur-Couesnon. Immerse yourself in the memory of each of these places by exploring the site and taking part in public mediation activities. Drawing on a blend of chanson française, trip-hop and industrial sounds, François Audrain gently layers his voice over light and dark rock melodies. Melancholia is both intimate and powerful, echoing the buried stories of those we used to call the “common folk” – the workers, labourers and anonymous figures whose lives have shaped our heritage.
