The Real Reinhardt

     In 1940, the jazz guitar virtuoso Django Reinhardt was on tour in England with his first band, The Quintet of the Hot Club, which included his brother on rhythm guitar as well as his principal collaborator, the violinist Stephane Grappelli. Django's wife and child were also on tour with him. While on the road the group received some awful news; the Germans had declared war on France. The reaction was nearly unanimous; try to extend their stay in England and hustle some more gigs, then possibly make their way to the United States. Django was the lone dissenting voice. Emphatically declaring his love for his homeland, he abruptly left his family and departed for France.

    Django lies low in the provinces during the Battle of France. He returns once it is clear that Paris will be spared and the Vichy government will be in control. Upon his arrival, Django appears before the Nazi Censorship Committee. He explains to the Nazis that he is greatest guitarist ever known and that before the war, he had a booming business writing, recording, and performing all sorts of music. He politely asks if he may be allowed to return to work. The Nazis oblige him. However, he is told not to play anything that sounds overtly Black or Jewish. 

Django forms a new band, The Quintet of Paris, and sets about rebuilding his career quickly. He records the song "Nuages" which becomes the first hit song on the radio during the occupation of France. Django makes a ton of money and fills his gig schedule. He drives through the streets of Paris in his Rolls Royce convertible with the top down smoking and drinking champagne while his countrymen stand in bread lines. He is granted permission to travel and embarks on a tour of the French Rivera and the Ivory Coast. 

Upon being denied a second tour in 1944 and sensing that the war wasn't going well for the Axis Powers, Django makes two half-hearted attempts to flee to Spain. He is turned back both times but suffers no consequences for his unsolicited travel. Despite being Romani, his name is kept off the Gestapo's lists by a Luftwaffe colonel who is also an avid fan.

Meanwhile and also in occupied France, Pablo Picasso has locked himself in his studio. He will not go outside and only speaks to his wife and his assistant. He paints what he pleases. When the Gestapo knock on his door and demand he come with them for questioning, he refuses. He tells the young officer that he is the greatest painter alive and as such cannot be bothered with such indignities. He continues to say that if the officer or his superiors have an issue with this, they can contact the senior Nazi officers who continue to purchase his paintings privately. The Nazis leave Picasso alone henceforth. 

Likewise, Jean Paul Sartre sits in a Nazi POW camp. He is starving and his health is failing him. Nevertheless, he decides to stop letting the war get in the way of his dreams of being a writer. He begins to write in secret every night. He knows full well that if he is caught, the Nazis will beat him fiercely which, in his weakened condition, would likely mean a horrible death. He doesn't care. He would rather die living life as his true self. He will write his first play in prison before being released due to his health a year later. 

Django survives the war and continues to perform and record. He reunites with Grappelli occasionally and tours the US briefly playing as a guest in Duke Ellington's orchestra. He dies of a brain hemorrhage in 1953 at age 43. Grappelli lives on well into the 1990s. He plays with Paul Simon, Yo Yo Ma, Pink Floyd, Duke Ellington, Oscar Peterson, Joe Pass and many other prominent jazz and folk musicians. His son continues to play jazz manouche in his father's style. 

I love jazz manouche and I love both Reinhardt's and Grappelli's playing. Every so often however, I'll come across jazz musicians or others with some connection to the arts world who don't know their history. [Wikipedia even seems to purposefully omit much what I have discussed thus far] They will inevitably try to hold up Django and his identity as a Romani and a disabled person as a trailblazer and a resistance hero. They'll talk about how Django risked everything to continue performing in France despite being under threat of extermination by the Nazis. They'll talk about how "Nuages" was a ray of hope to the people of occupied France who sang it in place of "La Marseillaise". They'll lament Django's death at such a young age and eagerly wonder what music would be like if Django had lived to see Stratocasters and classic rock. Those people are wrong and their idealized image of Reinhardt couldn't be further from the truth.

Actually, Django Reinhardt was a complete piece of shit.

Django's return to France was likely not motivated out of an abundance of patriotism. It is more likely that he had grown tired of sharing the spotlight with Grappelli as well as the burdens of being a family man and was looking for an opportunity to leave both. Hitler gave him that opportunity and he took it. It's also likely he knew he would be returning to a France desperate for musicians and could easily ascend to the top of a market now free of competition from Jews, communists, Freemasons, and homosexuals. He went far out of his way to ingratiate himself with the the most bigoted, murderous, authoritarian regime in history for one last chance at fame and riches. He performed for crowds of Nazi officers night after night paying no mind to the horror they inflicted on upon the country he claimed to love. He abandoned everyone who loved him for a string of affairs and an ostentatious lifestyle. Such is the behavior of a narcissist. Such is the behavior of a traitor.

Reinhardt's virtuosity and unique stylistic interpretation are the only thing keeping him out of the dustbin of history. He was indeed a singular talent in his time and did a lot to advance the art of jazz guitar. Nevertheless, times change and stars fade inevitably but he was unable or unwilling to accept that fact so he made a deal with the devil. "Nuages", in my opinion, is a dumb, boring, crap song. It's maudlin and ambling. I doubt it would have been a hit song if it wasn't broadcast on Nazi-controlled airwaves. It's very rarely played by jazz musicians today and is usually only mentioned within the larger context of Django's work. I would encourage music fans to listen to Django's recordings in the 1930s ("Minor Swing" & "Limehouse Blues" are my favorites) and then contrast them with the recordings he made during the war. If you do so, you might notice that the wartime recordings lack the intimacy, spontaneity, grit, and fun of the prewar recordings. The deficit your ears detect is the sound of fascist collaboration. Technically speaking, it's fine work but it's inescapably banal and leaves you feeling empty. His playing gets a little more bluesy in the postwar era but it's pretty much the same ol' Django. He adopted amplification begrudgingly. After all, he was the greatest jazz guitarist of all time and people should recognize his genius. Why should he change?

I'm not a big believer in fate or karma but I'm pretty sure Django died before rock and roll because he didn't deserve rock and roll. He didn't deserve it because he never believed in the world that created it.

When your the greatest of your generation at a certain art form and fascists try to take over your country, you can either flee to a free land and continue your pursuits in exile or you can dig your heels in and make art so beautiful and powerful that it's existence and your existence amount to a defiance of fascism. You're not supposed to join the fascists to boost your publicity and cash in.

Django Reinhardt was a lying, womanizing, gluttonous, nazi-collaborating, piece of shit narcissist who thought he was god's gift to the world. He was also a creative genius who helped make improvised music what it is today. Fuck Him and Fuck Nazis.