7 February 1927 – 23 September 2020The French
Rapper recalls his long friendship with the chanson star who was his ‘godmother and teacher’Harold Evans remembered by Darren MansellRead the Observer’s obituaries of 2020 in fullJuliette Gréco and I may have been born almost 50 years apart but she had always been part of me. When we were kids growing up on a housing estate in Strasbourg, my mother had a ritual: on Sundays, she would play French chanson for us. Léo Ferré, Jacques Brel, Charles Trenet, Georges Brassens, and Juliette Gréco. She was the only female artist in the pack so not only did her mysterious voice have a distinctive impact on me, I also assumed she was a tough cookie with character. In my young boy’s mind, she was their equal, a great artist, period. Years later, as I was relaxing at home in the midst of recording my second solo album, I switched on telly and here she was with her husband Gérard Jouannest who had been Jacques Brel’s pianist and composer, and I thought how amazing it would be to meet them. The following morning, I told the sound engineer at my record company. It just so happened that he had recently worked with Juliette Gréco. He was our go-between. I sent her my work and she agreed to meet. One day, she opened the door of her house near
Paris to me and we became
Friends for the next 13 years, spending
Christmas and holidays together.
When Gréco met new people, what she was interested in was to find a poetical connection with them. No poetry, no friendship. It didn’t matter that you were from a different milieu, a different country, a different culture, or belonged to a different musical genre, generation, political family or even that you shared the same convictions. The only thing that she cared about was poetry, and style. And a love for words and the written text.