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Django and World War II
- The Occupation
In Germany, Jazz and all other American music was banned in the country before
and after Americans joined the war. Stalin forbid the playing of Jazz music at
the end of the 1945 war throughout the Soviet Union, and banned the use of
saxophones. Jazz was called "the music of blacks by Hitler as a reason for the
prohibition of Jazz music. Nevertheless, Jazz music was embraced by all who
heard it around the globe.
Paris -1939
The reasons Django returned to France whilst Stephane remained in the UK? Well
Django was an incredibly capricious individual and his decisions were almost
invariably based on emotion rather than logic. He once said, when asked why he
returned to France at the declaration of war, "It is better to be frightened in
your own country than in another one". Stephane was an altogether different
personality and I think he would have thought about the situation very carefully
before deciding it made much more sense to remain in the UK. Despite what Stephane
said later in life when looking back through rose tinted glasses, there were no
real emotional ties between them. In fact, most of the time I don't think they
liked each other.
Django
was actually at his most popular in France during the war. He was almost on the
level of Maurice Chevalier and Edith Piaf in terms of popularity. He survived
primarily because he
was
Django Reinhardt and many Germans loved jazz and were quite prepared to
compromise their "principles" when away from their homeland. Django neither
collaborated with nor attempted to alienate the Germans and he had the gypsy's
innate ability to survive. Fortunately for him, the Germans in France had a more
relaxed attitude to gypsies than in other occupied European countries. I have a
couple of photographs of Sarane Ferret, one of Django's fellow gypsy guitarists,
playing in a night club to a group of German soldiers and French collaborators.
I think for much of the time, the war simply passed over Django because he only
cared about music, women and gambling. He would only become concerned with the
occupation if it interfered with any of these activities. For much of the time,
he was not of the real world. - Roger Baxter
Django's Survival

Parisien
Clubs 1942
Propaganda War
With the outbreak of war in 1939
Reinhardt made his way back from England to France, leaving Grappelli in Britain. Django spent the first winter of the war playing in Jimmy's
Bar in Montparnasse; but in spring 1940 the German blitzkrieg led to the speedy
fall of France. He fled the city when the Germans occupied Paris on June 14th,
but returned after the French surrender left northern France under occupation. …

The New Quintet in concert circa
1941 Hubert Rostaing, Eugène Vées, Django, André Jourdan, Francis Lucas
Django was considering reforming
some kind of quintet. He had hoped right up until May 1940 for Grapelly’s
return, but Stephane had decided to remain in England. Django realized that such
a project would require organizational skill that he himself did not possess.
His first thought of getting Michel Warlop to help in this project, but of
course he was otherwise committed. Georges Efrossé, then playing with Django’s
friend Sarrane Ferret who was also a first class violinist – or was the true
answer to form a new style of quintet? Django eventually decided to install the
clarinet of
Hubert Rostaing in place of the violin. Regrettably, this new quintet did
not last long. Django decided, as he was pretty much a star in his own right,
that freelancing was for him the best bet.
During the war, in occupied
France, Django kept a low profile. He continued to record, including some superb
sides in Brussels in the spring of 1942 for the Rhythme label (unfortunately
pressed on inferior material).
There were, though, closet Jazz
fans among the German Officers. One of these was Dietrich Schulz-Koehn (the
“Doktor Jazz” of the Luftwaffe (one of Django’s most fervent admirers, and who
more than once got him out of a tight corner. In any case, the ban on American
jazz records only served to boost the value of the discs which the French
jazzmen were putting out by hundreds under the enemy’s nose with camouflaged
titles to conceal their American antecedents.
Throughout the war he continued to play (with the help of Luftwaffe officer
Deitrich Schulz-Kohn, known as 'Doktor Jazz') in the Paris clubs, this time with
the clarinet accompaniment of Hubert Rostaing instead of violin. Reinhardt
has often been criticised for staying in Paris during the war and playing to
audiences of mainly German officers, but if you listen to the recordings he made
during those war years you'll hear many references to Jewish Klezmer music that
are strong ironic references to the German occupation.

Dietrich Schulz-Kohn "Doktor Jazz" with Django in front of La
Cigale in Paris during the war.
Django and
the Nazi's
Dietrich Schulz-Köhn (a
Luftwaffe officer) aka "Doktor Jazz", a great admirer of Django who enabled him
to continue to perform during the German occupation, in an era where many
European gypsies faced the fatal consequences of racial hatred.
Germans went to his room and listened to
"Americano nigger kike jungle music" for hours. The quote is from Joseph
Goebbels, who had banned jazz along with fox trots and the tango. Although
repulsed by the "terrible squawk" of jazz, he soon realized that swing between
the political harangues held listeners. And eventually there were some German
swing bands. The extent of the ban and the definition of the music had both been
vague anyway. Nobody has ever really succeeded in defining jazz, which is one
reason I love it so much.
1942-43 - sleeve notes
Shortly after a tour through
Northern France and Belgium, Django and his Quintet embarked upon another trip
organized by Charles Delaunay. Delaunay remembered this tour, which included
appearances at sea-side resorts in Southern France and Algiers, as a rather
chaotic affair that came to an early end with the unexpected departure of the
leader. Django had simply refused to play any matinee shows. Delaunay and the
other musicians managed to return to the mainland just days before the Allied
invasion of Morocco and Algeria on November 8, 1942….
This volume of the recordings of
Django Reinhardt, presented in chronological order, opens with the remaining
sides with Stan Brender's big band. These little-known, yet excellent tracks
show the guitarist in top form. After the aforementioned tour, Django played and
recorded again regularly in Paris. In the meantime, clarinettist Hubert Rostaing
had left the quintet following a feud with the leader over money. His
replacement, Andre Luis, proves a less suitable partner for Reinhardt, although
Django's own playing is immaculate, "Manoir de mes reves" and "Blues Claire"
ranking among his best recordings of the period. In March 1943, Django was able
to cut some ambitious, yet fascinating sides with Fud Candrix and his big band,
which also accompanied him on a series of concerts in Belgium later that year.
In July 1943, Diango made his last recordings before the liberation of Paris.
The fine "Melodie au crepuscule" also reunited Django with Michel Warlop for the
last time in a recording studio. Django continued to play for the better part of
the next year, but was also involved in several perilous situations, a state of
affairs that kept him from the recording studios until October 1944.
This
époque of Django’s QHCF ended sharply with the outbreak of World War II.
Immediately, Django returns home from his England tour; contrary to Grappelli
who decides to stay. At first, Django flees from the occupants to the South of
France, not occupied, but soon returns to Paris. Later, he tries again to flee,
this time to neutral Switzerland, in order to avoid an impending tour in
Germany. The Swiss border guards, however, expel him because his application for
political asylum was denied, but luckily nothing bad happens to him, allegedly
also because he appeased the guards with his ability to play Guitar.
Django playing to Babik circa 1944
Stan Brenders
would stand on-stage in Brussels in the late ’30s and announce that the next
tune was going to be "Sept, et avec un combination avec onze," knowing full well
the Nazi censors wouldn’t be able to follow the pidgin French reference to the
real song title, "Seven Come Eleven," which like most swing numbers had been
decisively banned from either radio or live airplay.
One of the great victories of
jazz against the fascists came in spring of 1942, when the Brenders band backed
eight performances in Belgium by gypsy guitarist
Django Reinhardt, all of
the activity organized strictly guerilla style in outright defiance of the Nazi
edict against swinging music. But with the defeat of the swastika crowd,
Brenders' music became less and less swinging, with increasing use of schmaltzy
strings.
Django with Fud Candrix Orchestra!
Propaganda
Swing:
Dr. Goebbels Jazz Orchestra
(Charlie and His Orchestra)
Charlie
Schwedler (Karl Schwedler) - In the twisted annals of the Third Reich, few
stories are so improbable as that of Charlie and his Orchestra. Even as
the Nazis campaigned against degenerate jazz music, persecuting musicians and
throwing swing kids into concentration camps, behind the scenes Joseph Goebbels
and his Propaganda Ministry were creating a jazz orchestra that would serve up
Nazi propaganda backed by the latest swing music. The result was Charlie and his
Orchestra , Karl Schwedler, made up of Europe s finest jazz players, whose
short-wave broadcasts to English and American audiences soon gained a following
abroad and, more clandestinely, within the Reich itself. Combining hit-parade
savvy with pro-Nazi, anti-Semitic lyrics, the orchestra specialized in cover
versions of the latest swing sensations; among the recordings featured here are
the Churchill-baiting You're Driving Me Crazy , the anti-Roosevelt FDR Jones,
and Slumming on Park Avenue ( Let s go bombing... ). As soon as the war ended,
orchestra members found themselves in hot demand by American occupation forces,
and many become respected leaders of Europe's postwar jazz scene. In this film,
surviving band members (including the late Fritz Freddie Brocksieper) recall
their musical collaboration with the Nazi regime with ambivalence and insight,
shedding new light onto the contradictory workings of Goebbels propaganda
machine.
1989, B&W/Color, 60 minutes, English commentary.
Thanks for the Memory
Hitler's
Reflections on Jazz
Liberation
of France - Luftwaffe Oberleutenant Dietrich Schulz-Koehn walked along the
railroad tracks near St. Nazaire with three other German officers. Four American
officers came down the line towards them. Small arms fire could be heard in the
distance. The winter of 1944 was cold. The men danced and blew on their
hands. The day was grey, like an old print of a black-and-white war movie...
They had minor roles, this was a sideshow. The main Theatre of war had moved
east to the Fatherland.
One hundred thousand German soldiers were cut off and worn out here on the
Brittany coast. The Allies were prepared to starve them out, but civilians were
starving too and the Red Cross arranged evacuation negotiations along these
tracks, an hour a day for weeks now. The opposing sides had begun to fraternize.
They took photographs of each other, and traded the prints. An African
American officer who had been admiring Schulz-Koehn's Rollieflex asked: "How
much do you want for that camera?"
"It's not for sale." The lanky, bespectacled German liked Americans,
particularly African Americans. He was more than pleasant about it, but he liked
his camera too.
"How about three cartons of Luckies and four pairs of nylons?"
No. That was not enough. But as a matter of fact there was something. Why not
ask? A few beats went by. The war was almost over anyway. Schulz-Koehn
straightened up and adjusted his leather coat. There was nothing to be lost. It
was in his estimation worth a try: "Do you have any Count Basie records?"
During the war, Django's artistic
creations are prolific. He rarely records in the studio, but in the evening he
has more than enough gigs – jazz being considered a form of protest against the
occupying forces’ regime. He founds his own club, "La Roulette", later called
"Chez Django Reinhardt". He tours Belgium, the Provence, which is not occupied,
and Algeria. His wish – an own jazz orchestra, – "Django’s Music" – comes true.
Its members unfortunately do not have a permanent position, and go their own way
after the war. On the basis of texts by the French poet Jean Cocteau he composes
the opera "Le manoir de mes reves", but it is never performed. He also impresses
the experts with an organ mass which he had composed in 1944 in honour of the
French Roma’s – 'Manouche' – dedicated to their
holy place of pilgrimage, St.-Maries-de-la-mer, on the Riviera.
From Here to Eternity, James
Jones
‘But when it came to describing for them
who had never heard it the poignant fleeting exquisitely delicate melody of that
guitar, memory always faltered. There was no way to describe them that. You had
to hear that, the steady, swinging, never wavering beat with the two- or
three-chord haunting minor riffs at the ends of phrases, each containing the
whole feel and pattern of joyously unhappy tragedy of this earth (and of other
earth). And always over it all the one picked single string of the melody
following infallibly the beat, weaving in and out around it with the hard-driven
swiftly-run arpeggios, always moving, never hesitating, never getting lost and
having to pause to get back on, shifting suddenly from the set light-accent of
the melancholy jazz beat to the sharp erratic-explosive gypsy rhythm that cried
over life while laughing at it, too fast for the ear to follow, too original for
the mind to anticipate, too intricate for the memory to remember.’
We had to sit on a chair one
after the other, and Dr. Ritter compared the eyes of the children and questioned
them; his colleague noted everything down. We had to open our mouths and our
jaws were measured with a strange instrument, then our nostrils, the roots of
the nose, the distance between the eyes, eye colour, eyebrows, ears inside and
out, the nape of the neck, the throat, our hands - every single thing there was
to measure.
---Josef Reinhardt
In July 1943 he was officially married to Naguine,
although they had been living together for 15 years. Later that summer he made a
couple of attempts to cross over to Switzerland both of which ended fairly
disastrously. On the first occasion he was arrested and only saved by a jazz
loving German Kommandant with a collection of his records. On the second
occasion he made it as far as the Swiss border, but was turned back by the
customs men who presumably hadn’t heard of him, or didn’t care for jazz.
Dregni's Django Chronology
Nuages
"Boeuf sur
le Toit" this the very place where according to Yves Salgues in "La légende de
Django" one night at 2 o'clock in the morning, Django who had just gambled and
lost 100 000 francs at the 'Chemin de fer (shemmy or chemmy game)' in a
clandestine gambling-den came in. The Jo Bouillon Orchestra was playing there.
His cousin Eugène Vées rejoined him, then his brother, and then Fouad.-
"Champagne, Monsieur Moïses" said Django with a tired voice. The musicians of
the Orchestra are packing up their belongings. On the stage lies his guitar.
Django looks at it for a moment, he stands up, takes it and rests it on his
knees and starts ringing a few notes. Does he realize at this moment that he is
improvising something eternal just as imperishable as Handy's 'Saint Louis
Blues' or Gershwin's 'The Man I Love'? That night, at the "Boeuf sur le Toit"
was born 'Nuages'...He will receive in less than three years, 780000 francs in
royalties for this sole title [15 millions of 1957 French Francs]. Some lyrics
will be added to this tune and it will be played even in the smallest French
village dance.
Django and
Vola
Django Reinhardt, Louis Vola,
Palm Beach Cannes
Amazingly,
after this unpromising start, Django now emerged as a popular star in a France
cut off by the Occupation from its contacts with American jazz. He formed a new
“swing” quintet on the Benny Goodman model with the clarinettist Hubert Rostaing
which quickly became a hit with the young fans. Paris, one it had recovered from
the disasters and confusion of the defeat, was looking for pleasure, for
distraction. Suddenly Jazz records were selling in their thousands. The public
wanted “Swing”. That (or sometimes “Swing musette”) was the magic word which
became a kind of rallying cry for the young. Until now Jazz had been the
preserve of a relatively select circle of dedicated enthusiasts. Now it became a
general passion, and the Quintet and the Hot Club of France was its focus.
According to Charles Delaunay: “When Django and his new Quintet made their first
public appearance on the stage of the “Normandie” cinema they were staggered by
the reception they got. “This was not simply a conquered population seeking to
forget its troubles in dreams; it was also an act of defiance against an Enemy
for whom Jazz was a hated symbol or racial decadence. And the Gypsy guitarist,
in turn, was a symbol of that defiance.

There are also two intriguing
photos (one shown left) of Sarane Ferret at the Shaharazade playing to German
soldiers and French collaborators during the second world war that pose
interesting questions about the pragmatism of both the gypsies and the occupying
forces.
Opinions about Sarane Ferret's
ability as a solo guitarist vary considerably. He was certainly less "gypsy"
than and lacked that "off-the-wall" bravado of his brothers which, to some, may
have been a positive asset. However, despite being a measured, tasteful player,
the truth is he probably lacked that certain spark required to lift him above
the ordinary.
Champagne does not appear to
rationed.
Zazou's

In countries under Nazi
occupation, and indeed Germany, jazz sub-cultures survived in the face of
official hostility and persecution. In France, there were the
Zazous: perhaps a
corruption of the Cab Calloway's Opium inspired - kicking the 'Gong' around Song
Chorus
Now, here's a very entrancing
phrase,
It will put you in a daze,
To me it don't mean a thing,
But it's got a very peculiar swing!
Zaz-zuh-zaz-zuh-zaz,
Zaz-zuh-zaz-zuh-zay,
Zaz-zuh-zaz-zuh-zaz,
Zaz-zuh-zaz-zuh-zay!
'Zazou
boys wore pegged pants with baggy knees, high rolled English collars covered by
their hair, which was carefully combed into a two-wave pompadour over their
foreheads, long checked jackets several sizes too large, dangling key chains,
gloves, stickpins in wide neckties with tiny knots; dark glasses and
Django Reinhardt
moustaches were the rage. The girls wore short skirts, baggy sweaters, pointed
painted fingernails, hair curled to their shoulders, necklaces around their
waists, bright red lipstick... They spent a lot of time in cafes, on the Champs
Elysees or in
the Latin Quarter... On Sundays they took portable gramophones to little exurban
restaurants, played their swing records loud and danced...
The Zazous took
nothing seriously. They opposed the regime by ignoring it, which was a political
act whether they knew it or not. Wearing long jackets with wide collars and
plenty of pleats is a political provocation during a highly publicized campaign
for sartorial austerity. From time to time the police would raid a
Zazou cafe and
take them to the prefecture. They would be questioned and have their papers and
addresses checked. Some were sent to the countryside to help with the harvest,
after a haircut of course. One newspaper wrote: 'We are of the opinion that when
the rest of the continent is fighting and working, the
Zazous' laziness
is shameful. The young men without their hair or collars now are going to get
healthy sweating in the July sun, the girls will soon have thicker ankles,
freckles on their sweet noses and calluses on their dainty hands. And then the
world will be back to its natural order.'

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