By Derek W. Brown

Django Reinhardt was not mentioned at all during Ken Burns' 19-hour documentary Jazz, a glaring oversight in an otherwise exemplary program. Reinhardt (born January 23rd, 1910, Liverchies, Belgium; died May 15th, 1953, Samoir-sur-Seine, France) was the most important European jazzman of his generation, the first to have an influence on American musicians. His colorful, imaginative improvisations have inspired generations of guitarists, from jazz players like Charlie Christian, Wes Montgomery, Barney Kessel and Joe Pass rock and fusion guitarists like John McLaughlin, Carlos Santana, King Crimson's Robert Fripp and Andy Summers of The Police. Reinhardt's harmonic concepts were extremely advanced, astonishingly sophisticated for a musician who was completely self-taught and had no formal knowledge of musical theory. Several of his hauntingly beautiful original compositions - "Nuages," "Manoir des Mes Reves," "Melodie au Crepuscule" - have become standards.

His first flush of fame came with Le Quintette du Hot Club de France, the string band he formed with violinist Stephane Grappelli. The group came about by chance. "You know, we both in the same hotel orchestra together, with [Louis] Vola the bassist," Grappelly recalled in a 1978 interview for Guitar Player magazine. "And I was playing violin there. When the tango orchestra was on, Django used to disappear behind the stand, you see, with his guitar. And one day I broke a string - it started like that. I broke a string, and went behind to change it, and when I was tuning we started to play together. I remember we did "Dinah" to amuse ourselves. And we decided every day to do like Eddie Lang and Joe Venuti to amuse ourselves. We had nothing to do for a half an hour, so we played together. And we were terribly amused, because then I discovered the ability of that guy, the genius of the guy. So one day his brother [Joseph Reinhardt] came along - he was playing maybe a courtyard somewhere - and he had his guitar with him. He just arrived when we were playing, so he joined us. And in the course of the conversation, Vola brings his bass with him, and we forgot to go back to the stand! So the manager arrive and said, 'What are you doing here?' So every day, with Vola, the brother, Django and I, we used to amuse ourselves while the tango orchestra was on." Hughes Panassie, the publisher of Jazz Hot magazine, came to hear the "funny little combo," as Grappelly called it, and decided to promote a concert. "And with the success," Grappelly continued, "Django got a big head. He said, 'When I am playing, I have my brother and Vola. But when you are playing, you have Vola, you have my brother, and me. So I want my cousin [Roger Chaput] to accompany me, as well.' So we were five . . ." The Quintette du Hot Club de France was not an immediate success - their first recordings were rejected as "too modern" - but from 1935 to 1939 they were immensely popular. Several of their recordings -"Djangology," "Limehouse Blues," "Swing Guitars," "Mystery Pacific," "Minor Swing," - were best sellers, and they played to soldout concerts in many European cities. The HCQ deserve to be remembered -their music was a kind of chamber jazz, full of warmth and Gallic romanticism. The group's drummerless all-strings lineup could swing with the best of 'em, but its chug-a-lug rhythms can seem quaint and cloying to modern ears if heard in large doses.

Souvenirs [London 820 591-2] remedies the problem by presenting a wide variety of performances originally recorded for the British Decca label in 1938, 1939 and 1946. The sound quality of these recordings is amazingly clear when considering their vintage; Decca's engineers were noted for their attention to fidelity, and they recorded the quintet with a large number of microphones. The musicians were able to relax and play; it wasn't necessary for them to attack their instruments in order to be heard. Reinhardt and Grappelly are heard with more clarity and definition than on the quintet's earlier recordings, bringing their contrasting (and complementary) styles into sharper focus on a selection of standards ("Honeysuckle Rose," Cole Porter's "Night and Day," "Sweet Georgia Brown") and Reinhardt-Grappelly originals ("Souvenirs," "Daphne," "Stompin' At Decca," the swingin' "HCQ Strut" and "My Sweet"). A duet from 1938, the original composition "Nocturne," demonstrates the astounding level of communication between these two masters of improvisation. Though the two men couldn't have been more different - Reinhardt, a Gypsy, was a rustic outdoorsman who would be as happy fishing as playing guitar, while Grappelly was suave, cultivated and debonair - they were capable of a musical empathy that still amazes, nearly seventy years later. (Another good starter kit is Blue Note's The Best of Django Reinhardt [Blue Note/Capitol CDP 7243 8 37138 2 0], a single-disc anthology. Beginning with the frenetic "Limehouse Blues," The Best of Django Reinhardt features 18 selections from 1936 to 1948, including Django's breathtaking improvisation on George Kahn's "I'll See You In My Dreams"; the original version of "Nuages," a big hit in Vichy France; "Place de Brouckere," one of his big band numbers; and "Diminushing," one of his modern, bop-influenced pieces originally recorded by the reconstituted HCQ in 1947. And at around $11.99 the price is attractive also!)

The quintet was broken up by the outbreak of the war in Europe; Reinhardt and Grappelly wouldn't see each other for more than six years, until January 1946. Three songs from the resulting session - Django's compositions "Love's Melody" and "Nuages," and George Gershwin's "Liza (All the Clouds'll Roll Away)" - are included on Souvenirs. It was a joyous meeting. As Charles Delaunay wrote in his biography Django Reinhardt, " . . . they rediscovered the miraculous communion of old. Nothing seemed impossible. Stephane was delighted to have Django beside him once more; his inspiration flowed, as freely as ever, his instrument seemed to play itself. From time to time he cast a glance of confidence, of gratitude even, towards Django, who for his part was no less moved to find the man who could best express his ideas playing with him once again."

But Reinhardt regarded the reunion as a step backward. He was a progressive musician, and his style continued to evolve over time. He was a favorite collaborator of American swing musicians visiting Paris, performing and recording with Barney Bigard, Rex Stewart and Dicky Wells of the Duke Ellington Orchestra; Bill Coleman; Benny Carter; Peanuts Hucko of the Glenn Miller Orchestra; Mel Powell; and Eddie South (a violinist known as "the black angel of the violin"), among others. He absorbed a great deal from these musicians (an exchange that undoubtedly went both ways), and the Gypsy elements of his guitar style had begun to disappear by 1939. He had grown bored with the string band format and reorganized the quintet after returning to Paris, replacing the violin with clarinet, adding drums, and eliminating one of the rhythm guitars. In the early forties he also worked with several big bands, often with impressive results.

In November of 1946 Django joined Duke Ellington's orchestra as a guest soloist - playing an electric guitar for the first time - for a brief tour of the U.S., visiting Cleveland, Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas City and Pittsburgh, with the last shows of the tour at New York's Carnegie Hall. (One performance is documented on Ellington: The Great Chicago Concerts [MusicMasters Jazz 01612-65110-2].)

After the tour he stayed in New York City for a two-month residency at the Café Society Uptown. On his nights off Reinhardt would visit Manhattan's legendary 52nd Street. In the early forties musicians like alto saxophonist Charlie Parker, trumpeters Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis, guitarist Charlie Christian, drummer Kenny Clarke and the pianists Mary Lou Williams and Thelonious Monk had been regulars in the 52nd Street clubs and the after-hours joints further uptown. Many of them had grown tired of the big band circuit and were looking for playing situations that allowed more opportunities to improvise at length; a new kind of small-group jazz began to ferment in the smoke-filled ambience of the nightclubs, and it came to be called bebop.

European audiences in general, however, didn't much care for Django's contemporary bop-influenced music. At the time they thought (and some self-appointed 'experts' in Djangology still believe) that his adaptation of the electric guitar had taken some of the urgency and edge off of his music, that his creative peak was back in the thirties. They demanded (and, in some cases, got what they wished for: reunions with Grappelly and the Quintette du Hot Club de France. These reunion appearances and recording sessions was simply a matter of financial necessity - bookings for Django's new quintet were hard to come by, and promoters paid handsomely for nostalgia.

Fortunately some record labels and booking agents had the foresight to show the man a little respect. Three albums in particular document Django coming to terms with bop and electric guitar:

Although the sound quality isn't all that terrific - the CD was mastered from some ancient transcription acetates of Radio Telediffussion Francais broadcasts - the performances really shine on GNP Crescendo's The Quintette of the Hot Club of France - Django Reinhardt & Stephane Grappelli [GNPD 9053]. The first dozen titles are from a November 1947 Quintette reunion. As it wasn't a proper recording session the group plays as if performing in a saloon, kicking ass and breathing fire into HCQ evergreens like "Tears," "Daphne" and "Dinah" (occasionally losing the beat on the older numbers). But the real gems are Django's haunting ballad "Manoir des Mes Reves" ("castle of my dreams," literally translated), the Reinhardt-Grappelly composition R-Vingt Six" and the HCQ's swinging hyperkinetic take on Jerome Kern's "Ol' Man River." Django spins out some rather impressionistic solos and pushes the band on with driving chords and contrapuntal chord riffology that just can't be beat. The final eight selections are another RTF broadcast from Geneva, Switzerland, October 25th 1949. Django is featured on electric guitar, accompanied by piano, bass, drums, and clarinet or alto sax (played by Andre Ekyan, a favored collaborator). Django, like Ellington, would reinterpret his older compositions to reflect contemporary changes. "Nuages," his big hit from the early forties, is given a slow, torchy ballad treatment. Other highlights include the originals "Black Night" (recorded with the reunited HCQ as "Diminushing") and "Micro," Reinhardt's arrangement of Edvard Grieg's "Norwegian Dance No. 2" and a stompin' version of Ellington's "C Jam Blues."

Brussels and Paris [DRG 8473] contains the best of Django's late period work. All of the selections feature him playing electric guitar in a five-piece format, but several were recorded with expanded lineups that included trumpet and alto sax. Reinhardt composed and recorded several strongly bop-influenced pieces between 1947 and 1953, including "Del Salle," "Babik (Bi-Bop)," "Impromptu," "Fleche d'Or," "Nuit de Saint-Germain-des-Pres" and the ballads "Vamp" and "Anouman." He was able to incorporate the harmonic complexities and wide melodic intervals of bebop without forsaking the essentially romantic (and European) character of his music. "Le Soir," "Chez Moi," "I Cover the Waterfront" and "Deccaphonie," also featured on Brussels and Paris, were the last four tunes that Django ever recorded. The session, held on April 8th 1953 - Django died of a brain hemorrhage on May 15th - was also the only time he recorded without a second melody instrument, e.g., clarinet or violin. Pianist Martial Solal and vibraphonist Sadi "Fats" Lalemand accompanied him in addition to Pierre Michelot on bass and drummer Pierre Lemarchand, his regular rhythm section.

Peche a La Mouche [Verve 835418-2] was compiled from recordings Django cut for the Blue Star label in 1947 and 1953. Most of the selections are standards that Reinhardt recorded several times but these takes Most of the pieces here - standards that Reinhardt and everyone else (and his mother) had recorded dozens of times - feature him in the company of a wartime quintet lineup (clarinet, acoustic rhythm guitar, bass, drums). But the eight selections from 1953 feature him in a standard rhythm section context and provide a fascinating glimpse into what Reinhardt could've accomplished had he not died prematurely.

Django Reinhardt was and is an important figure in the history of jazz, both as a musician and a composer. He was the first to create a distinctively European jazz style at a time when most of his contemporaries were imitating American records. And Reinhardt forever liberated the guitar in jazz, bringing an intuitively orchestral vision to an instrument that had previously been relegated to a minor role in the rhythm section.

Great music should be of its time while transcending it, and Reinhardt accomplished both. In spades.

POST SCRIPT:
It is on his fellow Gypsies that Reinhardt has had the greatest impact. Django was a Manouche, the French-speaking Romany tribe that settled in Belgium, Holland, Germany and the Alsace region of northern France; they continue to carry his musical legacy. Several Manouche guitarists have achieved international reputations. Three of the brightest are:

Bireli Lagrene
He began as a devoted Django disciple (he was once known as 'l'enfant Django') but has since matured into one of the finest electric jazz guitarists on the continent. His CD Live in Marciac [Dreyfus Jazz] captures Bireli in his native element, the stage. Spellbinding, breathtaking, awe-inspiring - no adjective can articulate the endlessly imaginative improvisations that Lagrene, supported by just bass and drums, is capable of. This is an incredibly gifted musician unafraid to take risks in his playing. His harmonic conception is extremely advanced, to say the least.

Boulou and Elios Ferré
"Probably the greatest duo in the history of the guitar," in the words of musician and educator Ian Cruickshank, "Boulou and his younger brother Elios make a formidable team. They are able to play virtually any piece of music in a dazzling variety of styles and, if fed intravenously, could probably play for weeks without repeating themselves.

"Boulou has the ability to take the attentive listener into realms unknown, employing many Gypsy devices in his playing to manipulate his audience onto a higher level of consciousness. He differs from the other [Reinhardt-influenced Gypsy] guitarists in that he doesn't attempt to play exactly like Django but prefers to extend Django's harmonic concept in a mish-mash of forms that extend from medieval times through to and beyond the present."