It takes a composer of rare confidence - or rare humour - to name a 40-year retrospective "Tutti Frutti". The title suggests a dessert explosion, a sonic sundae of strange textures and colors; but Annette Vande Gorne’s fruit salad is cut with razor blades of intellect and served in a vessel made of philosophy.

Across eight works spanning from 1983 to 2020, Vande Gorne - grande dame of Belgian acousmatics, founder of Musiques & Recherches and L’Espace du Son - gives us a panorama of her restless ear. These are not pieces so much as experiments in listening itself, each one testing how space, gesture, and illusion can rewire perception.

The opening "Cosmographie" imagines sound as a choreography of spheres: a galaxy made audible, where oscillation becomes syntax. "Paysage/Vitesse" compresses movement and perception until they blur - a trompe l’oreille for a choreography that never quite touches the ground. "Ce qu’a vu le vent d’Est" is a wind-borne requiem for Debussy and for war’s absurdities, a spectral homage that turns impressionism into compressionism.

Then comes "Remix Francistein", her Frankensteinian love letter to Francis Dhomont: an act of electroacoustic necromancy in which she stitches fragments of his work into something at once affectionate and hilariously uncanny. It’s self-aware, almost teasing - proof that high theory can still crack a smile.

Elsewhere, "Deux rêves fantastiques d’Aglavaine et Sélysette" and "Crise" show the composer at her most theatrical and instinctual - translating madness, myth, and emotion into voltage. And "Figures d’espace", the closer, feels like the philosophical keystone: a study in spatial virtuosity, where sound behaves like light, reflecting and refracting across invisible surfaces.

Throughout "Tutti Frutti", Vande Gorne reaffirms her lifelong gamble: that acousmatic music can be as expressive, sensual, and human as any symphony. What ties these wildly different works together is not a style but a stance - a belief that meaning, not mere sound, is the true material of composition.

Listening to this record is like wandering through a museum where the exhibits rearrange themselves around you - galaxies humming, ghosts of Debussy whispering, synths giggling in corners.

It’s called "Tutti Frutti", yes - but beneath its bright title lies a quiet manifesto: that sound, in all its absurd multiplicity, still speaks the language of the soul.