O poder de uma visão sempre supera a tirania do curto prazo

Há alguns dias, parei na seção de discos de vinil da Fnac Les Halles, em Paris.

Em meio a centenas de lançamentos, reedições prestigiadas e grandes nomes da música internacional — Madonna, Rolling Stones, Mylène Farmer e tantos outros —, alguns exemplares de Marcos Valle apresenta Henri Salvador do Brasil estavam discretamente expostos.

Essa cena poderia ter sido desanimadora.

Mas produziu exatamente o efeito contrário.

Ela me lembrou de uma realidade fundamental: em um mercado onde milhares de álbuns disputam espaço ao mesmo tempo, ninguém constrói uma obra duradoura pensando apenas no momento do lançamento.

Essa convicção vai muito além da música.

Ela provavelmente resume tudo o que aprendi ao longo da minha carreira.

As organizações frequentemente confundem velocidade com estratégia

Vivemos em um ambiente em que tudo é medido no curtíssimo prazo.

O número de visualizações da semana.

As vendas do primeiro mês.

Os resultados do trimestre.

Os indicadores tornaram-se tão imediatos que, muitas vezes, acabam substituindo a própria visão.

No entanto, as realizações que realmente marcam uma época seguem uma lógica completamente diferente.

Grandes empresas não são construídas em poucas semanas.

Grandes marcas não consolidam sua reputação em poucos meses.

Grandes líderes tomam decisões cujos efeitos, muitas vezes, só serão percebidos anos depois.

Por que seria diferente com uma obra artística?

Uma visão não é um sonho. É um sistema de tomada de decisões.

Desde o primeiro dia deste projeto, defini um objetivo muito simples.

Não estou tentando criar um sucesso passageiro.

Estou tentando criar um clássico.

A diferença pode parecer apenas semântica.

Na realidade, ela é estratégica.

Um grande sucesso busca maximizar um impacto imediato.

Um clássico busca preservar seu valor ao longo do tempo.

Essa diferença influencia cada decisão: a escolha dos artistas, dos arranjos, da qualidade musical, do formato físico, da comunicação, dos parceiros e até mesmo do ritmo de desenvolvimento do projeto.

Uma visão não é apenas um destino.

Ela funciona como um filtro que permite tomar as decisões certas quando os resultados imediatos ainda não refletem o verdadeiro potencial de um projeto.

Dar tempo ao tempo

François Mitterrand popularizou uma expressão que se tornou célebre:

“É preciso saber dar tempo ao tempo.”

Essa frase resume uma verdade frequentemente esquecida na gestão contemporânea.

Algumas criações precisam amadurecer.

Algumas reputações são construídas lentamente.

Algumas obras encontram seu público de forma gradual.

A história da música oferece inúmeros exemplos. Muitos álbuns que hoje são considerados clássicos não alcançaram sucesso imediato quando foram lançados. Seu verdadeiro reconhecimento foi sendo construído ao longo dos anos, impulsionado pelo boca a boca, por sucessivas redescobertas e pela sua capacidade de resistir ao tempo.

Por que insistimos em impor a todos os projetos um horizonte de apenas algumas semanas?

A visão protege contra a volatilidade

Essa convicção me traz uma enorme tranquilidade.

Quando vejo meu álbum entre milhares de outras referências, não penso apenas no caminho que ainda falta percorrer.

Penso, sobretudo, se continuo avançando na direção certa.

As vendas de uma semana podem oscilar.

Uma entrevista pode passar despercebida.

Um artigo pode gerar pouco impacto.

Por outro lado, um encontro, um novo parceiro, uma execução em uma rádio, uma recomendação ou a descoberta do projeto em um novo país podem produzir efeitos muito mais significativos anos depois.

Quando a visão é clara, cada etapa encontra naturalmente seu lugar dentro de uma trajetória muito mais longa.

A execução paciente costuma ser subestimada

Na indústria, assim como na música, projetos raramente fracassam por falta de boas ideias.

Na maioria das vezes, fracassam porque seus idealizadores desistem antes que a visão tenha tempo de produzir seus efeitos.

Construir uma obra duradoura exige uma qualidade que se tornou rara: paciência estratégica.

Continuar avançando sem ficar obcecado pelos resultados imediatos.

Manter o mesmo nível de exigência quando ainda ninguém está olhando.

Aceitar que algumas conquistas são construídas ao longo de anos, e não de semanas.

Um destino que permanece o mesmo

Naturalmente, não posso prever as vendas de amanhã.

Mas sei exatamente onde quero chegar.

Gostaria que, daqui a dez anos, Henri Salvador do Brasil continuasse disponível, continuasse sendo recomendado e continuasse sendo descoberto por novos ouvintes.

Gostaria que ele se tornasse um daqueles álbuns aos quais voltamos naturalmente, como voltamos aos grandes discos de jazz, de bossa nova ou da chanson francesa.

É essa visão que orienta cada uma das minhas decisões.

Ela me impede de me dispersar.

Ela evita que eu confunda velocidade com progresso.

E, acima de tudo, me lembra que uma ambição duradoura raramente é construída na urgência.

No fundo, a verdadeira pergunta não é por quanto tempo um projeto será assunto.

A verdadeira pergunta é por quanto tempo ele continuará sendo relevante.

É exatamente por isso que não estou tentando criar um sucesso passageiro.

Estou tentando criar um clássico.

La puissance d’une vision dépasse toujours la tyrannie du court terme

Il y a quelques jours, je me suis arrêté dans le rayon vinyles de la Fnac des Halles, à Paris.

Au milieu de centaines de nouveautés, de rééditions prestigieuses et de références incontournables – Madonna, les Rolling Stones, Mylène Farmer et tant d’autres –, quelques exemplaires de Marcos Valle présente Henri Salvador do Brasil étaient discrètement exposés.

Cette scène aurait pu être décourageante.

Elle a produit exactement l’effet inverse.

Elle m’a rappelé une réalité fondamentale : dans un marché où des milliers d’albums cherchent simultanément leur place, personne ne construit une œuvre durable en raisonnant uniquement à l’échelle de son lancement.

Cette conviction ne concerne pas seulement la musique.

Elle résume probablement tout ce que j’ai appris au cours de ma carrière.

Les organisations confondent souvent vitesse et stratégie

Nous vivons dans un environnement où tout est mesuré à très court terme.

Le nombre de vues de la semaine.

Les ventes du premier mois.

Les résultats du trimestre.

Les indicateurs sont devenus si immédiats qu’ils finissent parfois par remplacer la vision elle-même.

Pourtant, les réalisations qui marquent durablement leur époque obéissent à une logique très différente.

Les grandes entreprises ne se construisent pas en quelques semaines.

Les grandes marques ne bâtissent pas leur réputation en quelques mois.

Les grands dirigeants prennent des décisions dont les effets ne seront parfois visibles que plusieurs années plus tard.

Pourquoi en serait-il autrement pour une œuvre artistique ?

Une vision n’est pas un rêve. C’est un système de décision.

Depuis le premier jour de ce projet, je me suis fixé un objectif très simple.

Je ne cherche pas à produire un tube.

Je cherche à créer un classique.

La différence peut sembler sémantique.

Elle est en réalité stratégique.

Un tube cherche à maximiser un impact immédiat.

Un classique cherche à conserver sa valeur au fil du temps.

Cette distinction influence chaque décision : le choix des artistes, des arrangements, de la qualité musicale, du support physique, de la communication, des partenaires et même du rythme de développement du projet.

Une vision n’est pas seulement une destination.

C’est un filtre qui permet de prendre les bonnes décisions lorsque les résultats immédiats ne reflètent pas encore le potentiel réel d’un projet.

Donner du temps au temps

François Mitterrand avait popularisé une formule devenue célèbre :

« Il faut savoir donner du temps au temps. »

Cette phrase résume une vérité souvent oubliée dans le management contemporain.

Certaines créations ont besoin de maturité.

Certaines réputations se construisent lentement.

Certaines œuvres rencontrent leur public progressivement.

L’histoire de la musique en fournit d’innombrables exemples. De nombreux albums aujourd’hui considérés comme majeurs n’ont pas connu un succès immédiat lors de leur sortie. Leur véritable réussite s’est construite année après année, portée par le bouche-à-oreille, les redécouvertes successives et leur capacité à résister au temps.

Pourquoi vouloir imposer à tous les projets un horizon de quelques semaines ?

La vision protège de la volatilité

Cette conviction m’apporte une forme de sérénité.

Lorsque je vois mon album au milieu de milliers d’autres références, je ne mesure pas uniquement le chemin qu’il reste à parcourir.

Je vérifie surtout que je continue à avancer dans la bonne direction.

Les ventes d’une semaine peuvent fluctuer.

Une interview peut passer inaperçue.

Un article peut produire peu d’effet.

À l’inverse, une rencontre, un nouveau partenaire, une diffusion radio, une recommandation ou la découverte du projet dans un nouveau pays peuvent produire des effets bien plus importants plusieurs années plus tard.

Lorsque la vision est claire, chaque étape trouve naturellement sa place dans une trajectoire beaucoup plus longue.

L’exécution patiente est souvent sous-estimée

Dans l’industrie comme dans la musique, les projets échouent rarement par manque d’idées.

Ils échouent plus souvent parce que leurs promoteurs abandonnent avant que la vision n’ait eu le temps de produire ses effets.

Construire une œuvre durable demande une qualité devenue rare : la patience stratégique.

Continuer à avancer sans être obsédé par les résultats immédiats.

Maintenir le même niveau d’exigence lorsque personne ne regarde encore.

Accepter que certaines réussites se construisent davantage en années qu’en semaines.

Une destination qui ne change pas

Je ne peux évidemment pas prédire les ventes de demain.

En revanche, je sais parfaitement où je souhaite arriver.

J’aimerais que, dans dix ans, Henri Salvador do Brasil soit toujours disponible, toujours recommandé, toujours découvert par de nouveaux auditeurs.

Qu’il fasse partie de ces albums auxquels on revient naturellement, comme on revient à certains grands disques de jazz, de bossa nova ou de chanson française.

C’est cette vision qui guide chacune de mes décisions.

Elle m’empêche de me disperser.

Elle m’évite de confondre vitesse et progrès.

Et surtout, elle me rappelle qu’une ambition durable se construit rarement dans l’urgence.

Au fond, la véritable question n’est pas de savoir combien de temps un projet fera parler de lui.

La véritable question est de savoir combien de temps il continuera à compter.

C’est précisément la raison pour laquelle je ne cherche pas un tube.

Je cherche à créer un classique.

Emmanuel de Ryckel

#management #thepowerofthevision

Il existe une phrase attribuée à Ronald Reagan qui m’a toujours marqué :

« Entourez-vous des meilleurs, déléguez les responsabilités… et ne les gênez pas. »

Pendant longtemps, je l’ai trouvée élégante.

Aujourd’hui, après avoir produit l’album Henri Salvador do Brasil, je peux dire que je l’ai vécue.

Lorsque j’ai proposé à Marcos Valle d’assurer la direction musicale de ce projet, une question s’est immédiatement imposée à moi.

Quelle pouvait être ma légitimité pour expliquer à l’un des plus grands musiciens brésiliens quels arrangements écrire, quels studios choisir ou avec quels musiciens enregistrer ?

Aucune.

Et c’est précisément pour cette raison que je ne l’ai jamais fait.

Je lui ai laissé une liberté totale.

Le choix des studios.

Le choix des musiciens.

Le choix des arrangements.

Le choix des prises.

Pourquoi ?

Parce que je savais qu’il connaissait mieux que quiconque les qualités acoustiques de chaque studio de Rio. Il savait où enregistrer les cordes, où les cuivres sonneraient le mieux, où un piano prendrait toute sa profondeur.

Je savais surtout qu’il travaillerait avec les musiciens qui l’accompagnent depuis parfois plusieurs décennies.

Entre eux, il existe une complicité qu’aucune répétition ne peut fabriquer.

Comme dans une grande équipe de football, certains gestes n’ont plus besoin d’être expliqués. Le ballon part avant même que le partenaire ne démarre sa course, parce que chacun sait instinctivement où l’autre sera.

Cette confiance mutuelle produit quelque chose de précieux :

la créativité.

Je me souviens parfaitement de notre première chanson.

Pour moi, elle était terminée.

Marcos est revenu vers moi avec une idée :

« Emmanuel, j’aimerais ajouter un accordéon. Qu’en penses-tu ? »

J’ai souri.

Je lui ai simplement répondu :

« Tant que cela ne ressemble pas à Sous les ponts de Paris… »

Quelques jours plus tard, j’ai découvert son travail.

C’était exactement l’inverse de ce que j’avais imaginé.

L’accordéon apportait une émotion extraordinaire.

Une couleur subtile.

Une évidence.

À cet instant, j’ai compris une chose essentielle.

Le rôle d’un leader n’est pas d’être le plus compétent dans chaque domaine.

Son rôle est de reconnaître ceux qui le sont davantage que lui.

Le vrai talent consiste moins à apporter toutes les réponses qu’à poser la bonne question à la bonne personne.

Cette conviction dépasse largement la musique.

Je l’ai vécue à l’armée.

Les galons permettent de donner des ordres.

Mais ils ne créent ni la confiance, ni l’adhésion.

Celles-ci se gagnent par l’exemple, la proximité, le respect et la crédibilité.

Je l’ai retrouvée ensuite dans l’industrie.

Les équipes les plus performantes ne sont jamais celles où le manager contrôle tout.

Ce sont celles où chacun sent que son expertise est reconnue, où chacun ose proposer, créer, prendre des initiatives, parce qu’il sait que son jugement est respecté.

Avec le recul, je crois que le métier de producteur est souvent mal compris.

On imagine celui qui finance.

Celui qui coordonne.

Celui qui décide.

En réalité, le meilleur producteur est peut-être celui qui sait quand il faut se taire.

Celui qui rassemble les meilleurs autour d’une même ambition.

Celui qui crée un climat de confiance suffisamment fort pour que chacun ose donner le meilleur de lui-même.

Produire un album.

Commander une unité militaire.

Diriger une équipe industrielle.

Au fond, c’est le même métier.

Il ne s’agit pas de montrer que l’on est le plus fort.

Il s’agit de permettre aux autres de donner le meilleur d’eux-mêmes.

Parce que le véritable leadership ne consiste pas à être celui qui joue tous les instruments.

Il consiste à réunir les meilleurs musiciens, à leur donner une vision, à leur faire confiance… puis à les laisser créer la musique.

Et lorsque chacun joue juste, le chef d’orchestre devient presque invisible.

Mais sans lui, la musique n’aurait jamais existé.

Les plus grandes réussites naissent rarement d’un homme exceptionnel ; elles naissent d’une équipe exceptionnelle à laquelle quelqu’un a su donner confiance.

Emmanuel de Ryckel

#leadership #henrisalvador #marcosvalle

One quote, often attributed to Ronald Reagan, has stayed with me throughout my career:

“Surround yourself with the best people you can find, delegate authority, and don’t interfere.”

For years, I admired the simplicity of that idea.

Recently, while producing the album Henri Salvador do Brasil, I had the opportunity to live it.

When I invited Brazilian music legend Marcos Valle to become the musical director of the project, one question immediately came to mind.

What legitimacy did I have to tell one of Brazil’s greatest musicians which arrangements to write, which studio to use, or which musicians to hire?

None.

And that was precisely the point.

So I made a conscious decision.

I gave him complete creative freedom.

He chose the recording studios.

He selected every musician.

He made every artistic decision.

Why?

Because he knew which studio in Rio would make the strings sound richer, where the brass section would come alive, and where a piano could reveal its full character.

More importantly, he chose musicians he had played with for decades.

Their connection wasn’t something you could rehearse.

It reminded me of a great soccer team. The pass is made before the run even starts, because every player already knows where the other will be.

That level of trust creates something incredibly valuable:

Creativity.

I still remember the very first song we completed together.

To me, it sounded finished.

Then Marcos came back with a suggestion.

“Emmanuel, I’d like to add an accordion. What do you think?”

I smiled and replied,

“As long as it doesn’t end up sounding like a Parisian street accordion…”

A couple of hours later, I heard the new version.

It was magnificent.

The accordion added warmth, emotion and elegance—exactly what the song needed.

At that moment, I realized something important.

Leadership isn’t about being the smartest person in the room.

It’s about recognizing when someone else knows more than you do.

The best leaders don’t have all the answers. They know who does!

I’ve seen this lesson far beyond the music industry.

I learned it as a young military officer.

Rank gives you authority.

It doesn’t earn you trust.

Trust comes from competence, humility, consistency, and leading by example.

I discovered the very same principle years later in industry.

The highest-performing teams are rarely those where the manager controls every decision.

They’re the ones where talented people feel trusted, respected and empowered to do their best work.

Looking back, I think the role of a producer is often misunderstood.

People imagine someone who finances a project.

Someone who coordinates.

Someone who makes every decision.

In reality, the best producer may simply be the one who knows when to step back.

The one who brings exceptional people together around a shared vision.

The one who creates an environment where excellence can flourish.

Producing an album.

Leading a military unit.

Managing a global supply chain organization.

In the end, they’re all variations of the same job.

Leadership isn’t about proving you’re the most talented person in the room.

It’s about helping others become the very best version of themselves.

Because true leadership isn’t about playing every instrument.

It’s about bringing together the finest musicians, sharing a vision, trusting them completely… and then letting them make the music.

When everyone plays their part brilliantly, the conductor almost disappears.

Yet without the conductor, the orchestra would never have become a symphony.

The greatest achievements rarely come from one extraordinary individual. They come from an extraordinary team that someone had the wisdom—and the courage—to trust.

Emmanuel de Ryckel

#leadership #henrisalvador #marcos Valle

A reflection on leadership, value creation and execution through the experience of « Salvador do Brasil »

For many years, I have used the Herrmann Brain Dominance Instrument (HBDI) as a leadership, recruitment and organizational development tool.

I always considered it an excellent framework for understanding cognitive preferences and building complementary, high-performing teams.

Ironically, it was a project completely unrelated to Supply Chain that gave me my deepest insight into its true power.

I am neither a musician, a singer nor an arranger.

Yet I imagined, developed and produced Salvador do Brasil, an album recorded in Rio de Janeiro under the musical direction of Marcos Valle, one of Brazil’s most influential composers and performers, whose iconic “Samba de Verão” (Summer Samba) remains one of the most recorded Brazilian songs in history.

The project pays tribute to Henri Salvador, one of the greatest French music hall artists of the twentieth century, by bringing together some of Brazil’s most celebrated artists to reinterpret his repertoire.

Turning such an ambitious vision into reality also required securing the support of Universal Music, one of the world’s largest music companies.

Looking back, I realized that this project taught me something far more valuable than music.

HBDI is not simply a model describing four thinking preferences. It is also a remarkably accurate model of how successful projects create value.

1. Imagine — Yellow Thinking

Every exceptional project begins with imagination.

Long before budgets, contracts or execution plans, there must be a vision.

The vision behind Salvador do Brasil was simple in its wording but extraordinarily ambitious in its execution:

What if Henri Salvador’s timeless songs were reborn through the voices of Brazil’s greatest contemporary artists?

At that stage, there was no evidence the project would succeed.

Only conviction.

Innovation always starts with the ability to see opportunities that others cannot yet see.

2. Inspire Trust — Red Thinking

A vision creates no value if it remains a personal dream.

The next challenge is transforming that vision into commitment.

Convincing internationally acclaimed artists to participate.

Building trust.

Creating meaningful relationships.

Securing the confidence of one of the world’s largest music companies.

People rarely commit to an idea alone.

They commit to the credibility of the person carrying that idea.

Without trust, even the best concepts remain unfinished.

3. Structure — Green Thinking

Once people believe in the vision, execution begins.

The project becomes an operational system.

Coordinating artists, studios, musicians, engineers, contracts, schedules, approvals, translations, artwork, manufacturing, logistics and international communication.

Hundreds of interconnected activities must be orchestrated with precision.

Great projects rarely fail because of poor ideas.

More often, they fail because execution lacks discipline.

4. Secure — Blue Thinking

Finally comes analytical rigor.

Managing intellectual property rights.

Negotiating contracts.

Building a sustainable business model.

Managing budgets.

Assessing risks.

Making informed strategic decisions.

Blue Thinking does not create the project.

It ensures its long-term success.

A Different Way to Look at HBDI

This experience fundamentally changed my understanding of the HBDI.

We usually use it to understand how people think.

Perhaps we should also use it to understand what each stage of a project demands from its leaders.

Every ambitious project requires four successive capabilities:

• Imagine (Yellow)
• Inspire Trust (Red)
• Structure (Green)
• Secure and Execute (Blue)

Leadership is not about mastering one cognitive style.

It is about knowing when to activate each one.

For years, I believed HBDI was primarily a tool for understanding people.

Today, I see it as a powerful framework for understanding how exceptional projects succeed.

Whether we are transforming a global Supply Chain or producing an album that brings together Henri Salvador, Marcos Valle, Universal Music and some of Brazil’s greatest artists, the underlying principle remains the same.

Exceptional projects do not succeed because they rely on one dominant intelligence. They succeed because leaders know how to activate the right intelligence at the right moment.

Emmanuel de Ryckel

Today, Henri Salvador do Brasil is officially released worldwide.

For the past three years, my ambition has been simple: to create an album I could genuinely be proud of.

As of today, the challenge changes completely.

Every record producer shares the same dream: not simply to release an album, but to see it travel, cross borders, reach new audiences, and build its own story.

I hope this project will resonate with listeners in France, Belgium, Switzerland, Canada, Portugal, Japan, the United Kingdom, the United States, and, of course, Brazil.

These countries all share a deep appreciation for outstanding Brazilian artists, timeless music, and, in many cases, the remarkable legacy of Henri Salvador.

If this album helps a new generation rediscover his work through the extraordinary talent of Marcos Valle and the Brazilian artists who generously joined this project, then I will consider this adventure a success.

After three years of creation, the real journey begins today.

Enjoy the music.

Emmanuel de Ryckel

When I embarked on the Henri Salvador do Brasil project, financial returns were never the objective.

I am neither a professional music producer nor a musician. I never expected to make a living from an album. My ambition was different: to challenge myself, enjoy the journey, and test whether the skills, methodologies, and strategic thinking I had accumulated throughout my professional career could be applied to a project of this scale and complexity.

Over the years, both in industry and during my business studies, I learned a simple lesson: the success of a project is never determined solely by the quality of the product. Success depends equally on understanding the audience and creating the right conditions for engagement.

From the outset, I knew that Henri Salvador do Brasil could not simply be a tribute album. Its real challenge was to introduce Henri Salvador to a new generation.

Years earlier, while managing a concert venue in Brussels, I had noticed that audiences attending Brazilian music performances were remarkably young. I observed the same phenomenon in Paris and elsewhere while attending concerts by Marcos Valle. Brazilian music continued to attract listeners aged 25 to 35—many of whom had never heard of Henri Salvador.

This led me to identify three distinct target audiences.

The first consisted of those who had grown up listening to Henri Salvador and had known his songs since childhood.

The second included listeners aged 40 to 60 who rediscovered him through the extraordinary success of Chambre avec Vue in the early 2000s.

The third—and strategically the most important—was a younger audience attracted to contemporary Brazilian music but largely unfamiliar with Henri Salvador’s legacy.

At that moment, what had initially been an intuition became a marketing strategy.

I believed that Marcos Valle’s talent, credibility, and enduring relevance could serve as a bridge between these audiences. Marcos was not simply the ideal musical director; he became the connector between a timeless repertoire and a new generation of listeners.

This conviction led to a decision that occasionally surprised people: throughout the project’s communication strategy, I deliberately gave Marcos Valle equal prominence to Henri Salvador.

The same strategic thinking influenced the album artwork. I wanted a visual identity that felt contemporary, vibrant, and aspirational—something capable of resonating with a 30-year-old streaming subscriber as much as with a dedicated vinyl collector.

The design was heavily inspired by the iconic Blue Note covers, whose graphic sophistication and timeless appeal I have long admired. My objective was not to create another promotional product. I wanted to create an object with lasting value—an album that could remain relevant on streaming platforms, in record stores, and in personal collections for years to come.

Ultimately, the marketing strategy behind Henri Salvador do Brasil was built around a simple principle: do not change the product—expand the audience.

If this project enables a new generation to discover Henri Salvador for the first time, then the objective will have been achieved.

Emmanuel de Ryckel

How I succeeded in bringing together Universal Music, Marcos Valle and Eddy Mitchell for a project nobody expected.

Link pre sales : https://vinylcollector.store/products/henri-salvador-henri-salvador-do-brasil-vinyle-bleu?_pos=1&_psq=henri&_ss=e&_v=1.0&_gl=119arzhg_up*MQ..&gclid=CjwKCAjw9NjRBhATEiwA_p2J8bGClHonzaHNE1XzLzIUJZn5BVhmQ2n32mFoVJreu9_N2hQb9ofYVRoCq6YQAvD_BwE

Over the years, I have learned one lesson from both business and politics:

Great leaders are not defined by their ideas alone. They are defined by their ability to surround themselves with the right people.

When I started Henri Salvador do Brasil, I was neither a musician nor a record producer. My first priority was therefore to build trust with the people whose support was essential.

It started with Catherine Salvador, the guardian of Henri Salvador’s legacy.

Then came Marcos Valle. Not through a contract or a pitch deck, but through patience, shared passion and a relationship built over time. One song became two. Two songs became an album.

Finally, I reconnected with a music industry executive I had met in Rio nearly 25 years earlier. That relationship ultimately opened the door to Universal Music.

This project reinforced a conviction I have always held:

Ambitious projects are rarely built alone. Success comes from vision, trust and the ability to bring exceptional people together around a common goal.

#Leadership #Transformation #Collaboration #Innovation #MusicIndustry

Je ne suis pas producteur.

Je ne suis pas musicien.

Je n’ai jamais joué une seule note.

Et pourtant, j’ai fait un album.

Tout a commencé avec un transistor, quand j’étais enfant. Des voix s’en échappaient, Henri Salvador, Gilbert Bécaud… Je rêvais de journalisme, d’animateurs de radio, de musique, sans jamais imaginer qu’un jour j’y toucherais de près.

Des années plus tard, à travers mon métier dans l’industrie, je découvre Rio de Janeiro. Coup de foudre.

Puis je comprends qu’Henri Salvador entretient un lien profond avec cette ville et le Brésil. Mais les informations qui circulent me laissent sceptique. Alors, poussé par cette phrase de Jacques Brel affirmant qu’« il faut passer le reste de son existence à accomplir ses rêves d’enfant », j’enquête, j’interviewe des musiciens, parmi lesquels Gilberto Gil et Marcos Valle. Je creuse, et je découvre une histoire extraordinaire que peu de gens racontent.

Pour donner vie à cette découverte, je rêve alors d’un grand concert hommage à Henri Salvador à Rio de Janeiro, interprété par les plus grandes voix de la musique brésilienne.

Mais le contexte politique change, les financements disparaissent, les soutiens s’évaporent, et le projet s’effondre.

Alors je fais exactement l’inverse.

Je décide de créer.

Je retourne voir Marcos Valle. Je lui propose d’abord une chanson. Puis un album.

Il dit oui.

Le résultat s’appelle HENRI SALVADOR DO BRASIL : un album enregistré à Rio de Janeiro avec quelques-unes des plus belles voix de la musique brésilienne — Seu Jorge, Bebel Gilberto, Simone, Moreno Veloso et bien d’autres — réunies autour de l’univers musical d’Henri Salvador.

Et puis un cadeau inattendu vient couronner l’aventure. Catherine Salvador, la dernière épouse d’Henri, m’offre un enregistrement inédit retrouvé dans les archives : « Je parie ». Cette chanson devient alors un duo bouleversant entre Henri Salvador et Paula Morelenbaum. 

Dans la dernière ligne droite, Eddy Mitchell, grand ami d’Henri, rejoint également l’aventure, tout comme Féfé et Flore Benguigui, pour de magnifiques rencontres musicales entre la France et le Brésil.

Un projet improbable.

Un projet né hors du système, sans étude de marché, sans calcul.

Juste un rêve d’enfant devenu réalité.

SORTIE LE 26 JUIN 2026

Chez Barclay – Universal Music France. 

Emmanuel de Ryckel