(Sainte-Catherine) A music store or a popular culture museum? The question arises when entering Dianorgues La Rock Shoppe.
The walls are lined with photos and memorabilia. More room on the walls? There’s always the ceiling!
Each photo is a story. Here is one with former Prime Minister Bernard Landry. “I had rented a piano from them, the gentleman had left and Mr. Landry asked me to continue. I played boogies and then all that on the waterfront in Verchères. »
We recognize her with former Canadiens. Larry Robinson. Bob Gainey. Jean Béliveau, obviously. A young Réjean Houle. “It’s getting old, huh? We no longer recognize them. I had a wasp waist back in the day. There, I have the size of a gadfly! »
Here, a letter from the Philadelphia Flyers thanking her for welcoming her to the Forum in 1987. There, a message sent by the New York Rangers, who received her in 2014.
Behind the cash register, the photo with a Céline Dion from around thirty years ago inevitably attracts attention. “She didn’t have much to say, but she has a lot of discipline. She was so focused. Look how sick she is today, it’s valuable,” regrets Bibaud.
Fellow photographer Martin Tremblay immortalizes it all, before stopping between two shots. “You’ve met so many people. »
—It’s terrible!
— What was the most memorable meeting for you?
She heaves a big sigh, as if she were out of breath thinking about all the stars she’s crossed over in her four decades of career.
“Ginette Reno. Because I think she looks like me. We have the same temperament. I’m not bad, but we have a lively temperament, we say what we have to say. »
Here is La Presse at the music store in question, a quiet Monday afternoon following a storm. Diane Bibaud finishes serving a client, an intensive care nurse. The conversation is going well. ” Thank you for being here. We need you guys,” she says by way of greeting.
It’s shorter on the phone. “Dianorgues La Rock Shoppe, hello. Yes sir, with pleasure. » Clack! In just 11 seconds, the call is over.
“I respond quickly, I am very expeditious. Sometimes I put them upside down! “, she admits.
This store is his baby, born in 1987 on the same land, but in premises that are much more cramped, with supporting photos obviously. “It looked like a Ponderosa! People said to my husband: She thinks she’s going to make money from this, but she’s going to go bankrupt. »
His passion for music is not new. A turbulent little girl, she was sent to a convent by her adoptive parents at the age of 7.
Medicine also interested her, and we understand that her parents would have preferred that she follow this path. “On her deathbed, my mother said to me: I know you want to be a musician. Do me honor and I will follow you, I will always encourage you. Make a good daughter of yourself. »
The day of our visit, the Canadian is playing a home match. Even though a six-hour evening awaits her at the Bell Center, the 64-year-old lady stops by the boutique.
It must be said that it is well installed. Entering on the left, its keyboards are configured exactly as at the Bell Center. This is where she practices, because no, despite her experience, she does not spend her evenings on autopilot.
“Today I’m not in the world, I’m nervous. It’s true, it’s within. Ask Lise. » We turn to the Lise in question, who nods. “It’s not in the world! »
“It’s stage fright, I don’t know why. And there are always last minute deals. It’s not the Canadian’s fault, it happens in big organizations. »
When the time comes to leave, in the middle of the afternoon, she does so with peace of mind. She has five teachers on her team, who offer classes on her premises. Among them, Marc. “He teaches, he does studio, he does floor. And he endures me! »
That’s without forgetting Lise, his faithful sidekick, who almost always accompanies him to the Bell Centre. “Lise does all the paperwork, filings, payroll. This is our life. We are like two fingers on the hand. She lives with us, we’re together 24 hours a day.
—Are you related?
– No. It’s a very strong bond of friendship. We’re not a couple, and I have nothing against that! She was alone, she had a condo, my husband was gone and my house was paid for. I told him: come and stay with us. »
The husband, rather the ex-husband, because they have been separated since 1993, is Marc Bélanger, “the name of a conductor”, a tall thin man who appears in a few photos. “That’s in Italy. He was 6’4. I tell the world that’s why I didn’t get pregnant, he was up to my belly button!
“I’m not ashamed to talk about it. He was an extraordinary guy. But he was bipolar. He was interned for four months, was never violent. It’s not complicated, it’s a serotonin deficiency. It needs to be diagnosed and medicated.
“I call him every year at his party. This is the disappointment of my life. I will always love it. »
She sees herself for “five or six more years” at her shop, proud of all the storms she has weathered over the years. She cites the pandemic, obviously, but also the Oka crisis, with Kahnawake just a stone’s throw from her business.
“I sold harmonicas to the police, I went to play the drum keyboard, I went to entertain people on the side of the railway. People came to look for things to play with. Look at the police tank, it was on the side of the track. I made the world sing. I did some stupid things!
“I pay myself a salary like everyone else. My pension fund is the building. The day I go to sell, I won’t pass by here anymore. I’m going to be in so much pain! But I haven’t gotten there yet. I’m going to walk on all fours before I sell. It’s like the Bell Centre. »
