Joe Dessins, American Singer in Paris, Triumphs and Tribulations

Claude Lemesle, lyricist of fifteen hundred performed songs, was present when Jo Dessains fell to his death. Each of them was lucky to have met the other. An extraordinary artistic and human experience. Such a connection, such a closeness, Claude Lemesle recounts with a grateful smile. “Indian Summer” (L'été indien), Jo Dessains' biggest hit, which brought him to the top in the midst of a double crisis, personal and professional, this is him, Claude Lemesle.

Jo Deschamps separated his public and private selves. In the evening he would appear in his white clothes, a conductor, a star, but at night and during the next day he would return to being just another human being and would not want to be disturbed. Claude Lemel even wrote a poem about this, “The White Suit” (Le Costume blanc), in which he shows the magician with all eyes on him, mesmerized, at the end of the concert, after he had taken off his show clothes and gone to eat a steak in a restaurant, spend an evening in a local club with a glass of whiskey and sleep in a hotel without knowing what city he was in. There was a gap between Jo’s smooth image and his doubts, dissatisfaction and anguish.

The life of Jo Dessan was full of ups and downs, highs and lows, successes and regrets, like the teeth of a saw. His promoter, Robert Toutan, during the first thirteen years of his career, wrote In his book That Zhou was educated but not wise. If he had been wise, Robert Totan stated, he would not have gotten into all the trouble he was in. And, I add, he would have prevented his death at the age of So young. There are decrees of fate and there are preventable disasters.

On August 20, 1980, Claude Lemel and Jo Dessains dined with family and friends at a restaurant in Papeete, Tahiti. “At Michel and Eliane’s,” Chez Michel et Eliane. In Tahiti, Dessains felt comfortable, free, no one recognized him. A haven of peace and tranquility. He walked on the beach barefoot without getting hurt, without getting scratched. A safe haven of pleasure and sensuality.

They talked, as usual, and nothing foretold what would happen. A sudden heart attack and in a split second, Zhu Dessan collapsed and died. A doctor, who was dining nearby, came to check and immediately declared with condescending indifference: “It’s over.” He returned to finish his meal and left his friends stunned, shocked. Two of them performed CPR, the only ambulance arrived late, Zhu arrived at the hospital only forty minutes after the incident, his mother was convinced that he could have been saved.

Claude Lemel gets emotional and wipes away a tear when he listens to this song, “Ça va pas changer le mundo” (This won’t change the world) monde). The sentence that ends the first verse is among his favorites in everything he wrote: “Your farewell, I don’t believe in it at all. For me it’s a goodbye, almost a meeting.” The sentence in the poem is addressed by a young man to his beloved who broke up with him, but in reality, this is how Claude Lemel feels about Jo Dassin, who was brutally taken from him. From time to time, he sings it to him, starts to sob, and hopes that he will return.

Claude Lemel loved Jo Dassin with all his heart. He defines him as discreet, frequently self-doubting, intelligent, educated, talented, a great musician with a high artistic sensitivity, very meticulous about the lyrics. And the voice, such a shade has not been found since his death. It was a privilege to be his friend, says Claude Lemel, because Jo Dassin was stingy with the number of his friends and carefully chose them.

And finally, drugs, self-destruction. And not only drugs but also tobacco, alcohol, constant stress. All of these led to the fact that Jo Dessan found his death at the age of forty-one after the exhausting battle with his second wife Christine, with whom he was in divorce proceedings, for custody of the children, finally overcame him. Jo, who was not blessed with a loving father and suffered greatly from his treatment of him, was determined to give everything and nothing to his own sons, which hastened his end. That was the end. Let's go back to the beginning.

Child, teenager, student

Zhou was born on November 5, 1938, in New York City, to a Jewish family from Eastern Europe who had immigrated to the United States. Both of his parents were born in the United States, but his paternal grandfather, Samuel Dassan, was born in Odessa, which was then part of the Russian Empire. When he arrived in the United States without knowing English, immigration authorities, who did not understand his name, registered him under the name “Dassan,” which they had taken from Odessa. His maternal grandfather came from Austria.

Three children in a happy, laughing family in Los Angeles, between the sea and the mountains: Jo, the eldest, and his two sisters. Mother, Béatrice Launer, a violinist. Father, Jules Dassin, a film director. There was a piano in the living room, and Jo, who could reproduce any piece of music he had heard once, was drawn to his father's profession: film director.

Jules Deschamps was a great American film director and occasionally brought his children to his workplace, to the great, legendary studios. Alfred Hitchcock, Burt Lancaster, Ava Gardner would come in the evening to play poker with their parents. Jules was fascinated and admired his father. Playing baseball with him, what a joy! Jules Deschamps knew how to hit balls.

But in November 1947 the dream was shattered. The persecution of the communists, McCarthyism, began and Jules Dassin was blacklisted. FBI agents came to question the children about their father. What initially seemed to Jo and his two sisters as an amusing scenario, they soon realized was a bitter reality. The family left the US and emigrated to Europe.

It was the end of the world. Paradise was shattered and the children found themselves in exile. And as if that weren't enough, they moved from one place to another, following their mother's concerts and their father's film sets. Zhu studied at a dozen different schools.

To ensure that Zhou had a more stable environment, his parents sent him to a boarding school in Switzerland. While his mother visited and cared for him, his father was absent, busy with his films. Zhou suffered from his neglect and used to write him heartbreaking letters that always ended with an expression of longing and the question “When will we see each other again?”

Jo's dream did not come true. Jules Deschamps fell in love with actress Melina Mercuri. His family no longer mattered to him. A disaster for the children who were waiting for their father to return, but Jules did not. Beatrice Launer and Jules Deschamps divorced in 1962 after thirty years of marriage. In 1966, Jules Deschamps married Melina Mercuri and lived with her for nearly thirty more years, until her death in 1994.

Zhou wanted to return to his quarry, to the land of his childhood, the USA. The University of Michigan in Ann Arbor said yes and Zhou enrolled in the Department of Ethnology in 1959. Together with two other students who spoke FrenchAlain Giraud from Paris and Bernard Levrat from Switzerland, settled in a wooden house surrounded by a garden. They had a shared kitchen and each evening one of them, in turn, prepared dinner.

The conversations revolved around the future of the world. It was a happy time, chess games, books, films, theater, cinema. The three friends, who created a family unit, also moved around in an invigorating and rewarding peripheral circle. The childhood paradise, which had crumbled after the father abandoned them, was recreated with the two brother-friends.

Alain and Bernard studied physics and had illustrious careers. Bernard died at the age of 84, Alain lived a long life. Jo, as mentioned, would be the most famous of the three, a meteor who disintegrated at the age of 41. Let's go back to the cheerful student days at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.

Jo the student has shed the shadows of the adolescent Jo and becomes playful and humorous. A video, filmed by Alain Giroux on a 7mm camera, shows Jo smiling with a mouth full of teeth, a chubby face and bright eyes, waving a three-fingered finger at the camera. Life is no longer difficult, on the contrary. The video shows him drinking coffee with his two friends on the terrace among the trees, playing the banjo. “These were moments of happiness,” says Bernard Lebre (1936-2020), “to live, to breathe, to exist.” Jo insisted on teaching Bernard to strum the banjo, without satisfactory results…

Jo loved to be the center of attention, to have everyone look at him. He had a talent for telling stories. To play, to talk, to captivate, to have everyone stare at him. His shyness disappeared when he realized how much his charm worked. Alan fell in love with a beautiful girl and didn't dare approach her. Jo told him, come on, let's go. They got on their bikes and reached the cafeteria where she worked. Jo started a conversation with her. After she finished her work, after half an hour, she came to their house and became Alan's partner for that time. Without Jo, Alan would have stayed in the corner...

Jo and Alain played and sang in the evenings at a café frequented by students. “The Lovers Kissing on Public Benches,” by Georges Bressan, performed by the novice Jo Dessins, who presented his idol’s songs as French folklore… and a hat into which the spectators threw dollars. Fifty to a hundred dollars an evening. Not a lot, but how gratifying. There was a charm to it, and the delinquent students needed the money. Jo complained that his father didn’t send him enough, but he didn’t mind working as a delivery driver, a dishwasher at a restaurant, or a DJ at WCX radio in Detroit.

In 1961, Jo received a doctorate in ethnology from the University of Michigan. His thesis topic was the Hopi, an ethnic group of Indians in Arizona. But Jo abandoned the field and turned in another direction. He wanted to succeed. Ambition burned in him. To be famous, like his father. More. And so he told Bernard: “My goal is to be more famous than my father. They talk about Jules Dassin, one day they will talk about Jules Dassin.” Jo decided to buy the long-awaited publication as a writer and sent his father a letter informing him that he had written a one-act play. It was a kind of provocation, like a hint to his father that he would soon be competing with him. You wouldn’t be the only famous person in the family.

Six years of student life until, in the summer of 1963, Jules Dassin joined his son as an assistant in the filming of the film “Topkapi.” The filming took place partly in Paris, a city where Jules had now settled and where he would soon meet his first wife, Maryse Grimaldi. Maryse and Jules met on December 13, 1963, at a masquerade ball organized by legendary music producer Eddie Barclay, in honor of the film’s launch. It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, whose soundtrack he signed. The ball was held at the prestigious restaurant Le Pavillon d'Armenonville, literally, "the Armenonville Chalet," in the Bois de Boulogne.

Maryse was dressed as Joan of Arc, Jo was dressed as a pirate. They both burst into laughter when they saw each other, among the two thousand ball attendees who were present. Early in the morning, when snow fell on the city earlier than usual, the pirate from America gave the virgin of Menis his phone number. Thus they both signed thirteen years of happiness and cooperation. Jo owed his career as a singer to the tall, graceful and refined blonde, Maryse. Even after their divorce, and after Jo's death, and after everything, Jo would say: "Joe was and remains the man of my life."

Life with Maryse, the beginning of a career as a singer

Jo was not yet famous. An American student, West Tweed, glasses, that’s how Maryse describes him at the beginning of their romantic relationship. They used to go to the zoo in Vincennes, where Jo would photograph the monkeys and polar bears for hours, to film screenings. Until Jo invited her for the weekend. He played and sang Elisabeth Cotten’s “Freight Train” on the guitar for her, and she was enchanted. Jo and Maryse lived for a year in Jo’s mother’s beautiful house. Beatrice immediately realized that Maryse would know how to give her son the love she herself had given him since birth.

After a year, Jo and Mariz rented a cute two-room apartment under the roof, at 218 Boulevard Raspail, next to the Studio Raspail movie theater. Jo closed himself off to write. He would get up at seven in the morning, drink coffee, and sit at the typewriter until noon. He would send the stories he wrote to an American newspaper and receive checks from them. They were not enough to make a living, but Jo was happy to accept them. His goal was to no longer be financially dependent on his father.

The weekends were tough, but Jo didn't give up. To take a break from writing, he would play and sing. Naturally, like he breathed. Old songs from American folklore, which he grew up on. Maryse especially loved Elizabeth Cotten's "Freight Train," their first weekend song. She wrote it when she was 11, a song expressing a desire to escape her life on a freight train passing through the city. And she only recorded it when she was 65.

Elizabeth Cotten, 11 or 12 years old, lies in her bed at night, hearing the sounds of the freight train and imagining herself escaping inside it when no one knows she is there. And this pleasure, of imagining a successful escape, she wants to recreate it again and again when she lies in her grave. When I die, bury me next to the ancient chestnut tree so I can hear the sound of the old train, the girl makes a surprising request for her age. A song that became an international hit with multiple performances. Elizabeth Cotten died at the age of 94.

Maryse couldn’t ask Joe to sing “Freight Train” to her all day, so she asked her friend Catherine Regnier, who was a secretary at the CBS music production company, to record it for her. That way she could listen to it whenever she wanted. Joe’s unique voice and his no less unique way of speaking caught the attention of two artistic directors at the company, to whom Catherine played the record. The two approached the patron, who immediately offered Joe a contract.

Jo resisted. He wasn't a singer and didn't want to be a singer. The director of the production company insisted, pressed. Catherine and Mary pressed too. What do you have to lose? Then Jo sought the advice of his mother, Beatrice, who had loved music from a young age. Beatrice influenced him to sign the contract, at most make one record, two, three, and then, if he didn't like it, he could stop and go in another direction.

Jo gave in and signed a three-year contract. Jean-Michel Rivat, a talented lyricist-composer, wrote new lyrics, and artistic director Jacques Plait produced. The song “Freight Train” became “Je Change Un Peu de Vent” in its French adaptation. In February 1965, the eponymous record was released on 45 rpm vinyl and sent to radio stations and television producers.

Dominique Reznikoff, a producer, director and, outside of television, a writer, was going to record a program dedicated to young talents on March 15, 1965. Jo's warm and sensual voice appealed to her and her colleagues.

Jo came smiling, peaceful, quiet, sat down in one of the corners of the studio and… fell asleep. No, that was not a sign that he was calm. That very day, a wisdom tooth came in that hurt him a lot and puffed out his cheek. Maryse was sure that he would not be able to perform the song properly because of this malfunction and would not be invited to television again. Surprise. Jo conquered everyone. Success did not come from the direction Jo expected.

Jo Deschamps was introduced as the son of Jules Deschamps, but Jo, although very proud of his father, did not want to be Jules' singing son, he wanted to be Jo. When the host asked him if the mention of being the famous director's son upset him, Jo replied with a quiet and charming smile: "No, but I would prefer not to dwell too much on the point."

Jo’s French rendition of “Freight Train” was perfect. Dominique Reznikoff immediately recognized in his style, in his movements, in the way he sang, in his playing, his future as a great singer. He was a true professional, there was no mistake. Maryse confirmed Dominique Reznikoff’s statement. Judge for yourself, television was still, as you will see, in black and white.

Jo was also sure that he would succeed, as the dedication he wrote to Lemaris on his first record shows: “To my Lemaris, our record, the first in a long series.” But despite the predictions, the record did not sell! A resounding commercial failure. Jo was not perceived as sexy. Television producers did not fall in love with him or fantasize about him. He had a squint (when he was a child, he was hit by an arrow above his eye that touched the nerve) and dressed in a classic style, corduroy pants and a shirt under a cashmere V-neck vest, where is he and where is Sacha Distel and Claude François…

A few months later, Jo Dessan released a second record, which was no more successful than the first, and decided to leave, but Jose connected him to the record company. The producer who brought out Sheila, Jacques Plait, would also pave the way for Jo. On February 3, 1967, the first “Midem” was held in Cannes, an acronym for: Marché international du disque et de l'édition musicale, the "international market for the record and music publishing". The who's who of the music industry was invited to the event, the "Medem" is the equivalent of the film festival in that city. Among the record company booths, stars such as Anthony Quinn, Amalia Rodriguez, Salvatore Adamo, Patula Clarke roamed.

Jacques Pelle got Jo Dessins a surprising role as the evening's host. Jo was an American, all American, English was his mother tongue. He spoke French like a Frenchman because he learned the language in school in the US and when he came to France, he adopted it out of "adoring mimicry," as he put it. Such bilingualism was a rare commodity and Jo filled the role perfectly. What professionalism, what chic, what charisma!

Zhu, who was accustomed to dealing with movie stars from his childhood as the son of a Hollywood director, was perfect for the role. The audience recognized a singer who didn't sing, with an extraordinary stage personality who adapted to any situation, any occasion. Zhu skipped across the stage with elegant agility and with a captivating smile called out the names of the singers who had won the first "Medem" awards as he greeted them cordially, stepped back and turned the spotlight on them.

First commercial success, The Daltons

Jo could not have dreamed of such a promotion. Everyone now knew who he was. Doors opened for him and he got a meeting with Henri Salvador. Jo and his wife Maryse, along with Jacques Pellé, the producer who brought Jo Lacan and his wife Colette, were living on a yacht in the city’s old port. From the deck, Jacques suddenly saw Jo preparing to leave the yacht, guitar in hand. “Where are you headed?” he asked.

Jacques certainly had the right sense of smell. When he learned that Jou was preparing to go to a meeting with Henri Salvador to show him a song he had written with the two lyricists Jean-Michel Rivat and Frank Thomas, Jacques demanded that Jou stop. “You have a contract with me and now you must first play the song to me, me and no one else.”

Jo sang him “Les Daltons”. Jacques turned pale as chalk. He smelled the hit like a hawk sniffing out its prey. “I forbid you to give this song to Henri Salvador”, Jacques commanded. Jo defended himself, “It’s not a song for me, we wrote it for Henri Salvador” but nothing helped. Jo didn’t want to sing this song himself, it was a comic song, not suitable for him, suitable for Henri Salvador, who was known for his rolling laughter, but he gave up.

The song “The Daltons” is Joe Dessan’s first huge hit. Joe was inspired by “The Ox Drivers Song” by “The Brothers Four,” an American folk band formed in 1957. We all know their romantic-nostalgic hit “Green Fields,” but Joe took as his model a cowboy song in which he expresses his sorrow for the hard riding in the mud, where the wheels get stuck on the hard hills, as he whips the oxen until they bleed.

All he wants is to abandon the whip and lasso and settle down at home for the winter season with his family and friends. This is a sweeping song with a riding rhythm, supposedly cheerful, but its content is melancholic and sad.

Zhou severed the text from its source and copied it for the four brothers of the Dalton family, a criminal gang, bank robbers, and train robbers, who ruled the Wild West between 1890 and 1892. During their last bank robbery in their hometown of Coffeyville, Kansas, three were killed and only one brother survived and spent fifteen years in prison.

The idea to write about the four Dalton brothers may have come to Zhou after being inspired by the name of the band “The Four Brothers.” They met at the University of Washington in Seattle and called themselves that because they belonged to the Phi Gamma Delta fraternity. The Dalton brothers were the sons of the same parents, real biological brothers, who turned to the world of crime.

But Zhou presents the dramatic lives of the Dalton brothers in a comic light: at school they had nail files instead of pencils and linen ropes instead of ties. Years passed and they infected themselves with rabies, chained up the doctor who performed the vaccinations, enjoyed biting the residents of the neighborhood and blamed the dogs.

Before you meet them, you'd better kiss your wife, slit your throat, and throw yourself under a train. But the authorities put a bounty on their heads that grew by twenty cents every day, and because the Dalton brothers were greedy and arrogant, they turned themselves in to win the bounty because they were more stupid than bad. Ta ga da, ta ga da.

Jacques Pelle played the sheriff at the beginning of the song to show the British backing singer, who had difficulty saying the opening lyrics, how to do it: “Listen, good people, to the cruel and painful story of the Dalton brothers, who were the embodiment of evil. May it serve as a warning to all whom the devil leads astray,” Jacques declared with mock pomp and dramatic hand gestures. Jo Deschamps and the sound engineer burst out laughing at Jacques’ mastery of reciting the lines and decided to keep his performance. Jacques, for his part, insisted on including the song on the single, even though Jo suggested another one.

The record was released in May 1967 and the most memorable song, of the three titles it contained, is, of course, “The Daltons.” Jo’s first commercial success and, as an added bonus, Georges Bressan, who was undergoing kidney surgery at the time, asked his nurse to bring him the record. Remember Bressan being Jo’s idol when he was still a student?

Ta ga da, ta ga da, the parody song captivated the audience, who were not accustomed to pseudo-dramatic performances of this kind. Zhou realized that his career was taking off. To cross the decisive stage on the best side, Zhou did his best in promotion, namely, interviews and television appearances, and placed himself at the service of the profession that was beginning to brighten his face. The recognition he received started processes. Zhou Dessan became Zhou Dessan while slowly discovering the possibilities inherent in being a singer.

Jo wants more and more, to have fun, to impress his colleagues and the audience, to be a star, to see his name on the front of the mythical Olympia Hall. But not to be like the rest of the singers, who sing their hits from behind the microphone. Jo wants to be original, something special, a showman like Frank Sinatra. Let's not forget that Jo is fed by American musical comedy. Ambition burns in him.

Zhou had high self-discipline, phenomenal work capacity and a high sense of self-criticism. For hours he practiced tap dancing in the tiled kitchen until he acquired perfect skill, until he danced like he walked. Three months of work for ten seconds of tap.

Jo was a perfectionist and what he demanded of himself, he also demanded of others. He supervised everything, musical editing, accompaniment, voice, costumes, scenery, and sometimes gave in to fits of rage. On October 22, 1969, the debut performance at the Olympia, the tension was palpable in the air. The hall was filled with journalists, singers, celebrities, politicians and the fans, the happiest of whom, who had obtained a ticket.

Jo, Jo! Jo entered the ring like a bull, dressed in a white suit and a belt with a round silver buckle. Jacqueline Salvador, Henri's wife, who had seen him dressed in white a few weeks earlier, was very impressed and enthusiastically advised him to dress only like that when he went on stage. Dressed in white, you will attract all eyes!

This is the birth of the image. Zhou took the stage with all his steps and movements planned, considered and measured, launching into his successful hit at the time, “Shanez Eliza” (Les Champs-Elysées), 1969, and put the hall in his pocket.

A song that symbolizes France In the eyes of many foreigners, a song that banishes sadness and brings joy, one of the most famous French songs in the entire world, praising the glory days of the mythical avenue in the sixties! A song that is not French at all in origin but an unknown English song, Waterloo road, lyrics by Michael Antony Deighan, music by Michael Wilshaw, performed by the psychedelic pop band, Jason Crest, in 1968.

The group's successor broke up following commercial failures. This song, which celebrates Street in London, another commercial failure in the black series, was adapted into French by Pierre Delanoë, who co-wrote another huge hit with Claude Lemel, “Indian Summer.” Jacques Pelle was the producer, and Jo Deschamps’s production brought the English song out of obscurity into light.

Let's return to the Olympia stage. To further impress the enchanted audience, Jo continued with a piece he learned as a child at summer camp and perfected for weeks before the performance, a juggling twirl of a lasso around his body. Who could do that in France? Only the American Jo, who controlled the lasso like a real cowboy, this one from the song "The Daltons." A complete success of the entire evening, the audience gave a standing ovation.

And it wasn't just the audience that was in awe. In the front row sat Jules Dassin, Jo's father, who was standing in front of his talented, beautiful, elegant son, who charmed him with his performances throughout the show. Jules was proud of what his son was capable of, but at the same time he was a little jealous that he had become Jo's father. Jo's growing popularity eventually added to the distance that already existed between them.

Jo and Maryse married in January 1966, in secret. Maryse was discreet. Jo pretended to be single and had many adventures with his young admirers, with Maryse's knowledge. He would go out to official events, to the cinema, to restaurants accompanied by his sister or other women, but Maryse was always in his shadow, on the radio, on television, on tour.

Maryse was like a mother and a caregiver to him, she was his confidante, she ironed his suits, combed his hair and did his makeup, made sure his room was clean and warm. When asked if she was Jo's wife, she would say no, she was his secretary. Her answer was believable because she was the one who answered the phone and made appointments for him.

The publicity, however, began to weigh on Jo. The only escape from the pressure of the crowd was vacations with Maryse in the ski town of Courchevel. Maryse talks with a smile about being in the mountains, with friends, with ski instructors, parties and wine. They were thirty years old, during the day they skied, in the evening they danced in nightclubs. In Courchevel there was no need to pretend that Jo was single and Maryse was his secretary. Freedom and happiness!

Crises: losing a baby, career plummeting

Jo wanted to be a father. As the son of divorced parents, his ambition was to establish a family where the children would grow up happily and harmoniously with both parents. The dream would soon come true. At home, the pregnant Maryse learned English, at his request, so that he could pass on the legacy. But maintaining the pregnancy did not go smoothly.

Jo continued to show a cheerful face on the television shows he loved to appear on. Ironically, he even sang children's songs, such as "The Chocolate Bun" (Le petit pain au chocolat), 1969, a modified version of the song "July" (July) by the Italian Riccardo Del Turco. Jo's lyricist, Pierre Delanoë, turned the love song into a comic song.

The official live performance with the beautiful Gene Manson as the baker is remembered for several generations. I'm browsing through the list of comments on the clip and many are praising Jo Dassin, who accompanied their childhood, nostalgically recalling their mother and grandmother who played the humorous song to them.

Three generations were united around the chocolate bun of the two Americans in Paris, Jo and Gene, who spoke English to each other, who shared a passion for the musical comedies of their country of origin. Gene Manson, distinguished for a long life, refutes rumors of a romantic relationship between them. They were just friends, the video is just a game. Either way, the two American singers left an immortal song that is listened to again and again with nostalgia.

The irony is that the song is about a baker who fell in love with a nearsighted customer who didn't notice her until she wisely bought him glasses. He finally saw her, their marriage was celebrated in the cake shop and they soon had a bunch of children, all shortsighted, who danced and jumped with pockets full of chocolate buns. How far from life itself. Jo's baker, his faithful wife Maryse, was rushed to the hospital six and a half months pregnant, the premature baby died after five days. A blow to the young couple who had never known grief before.

Less than three weeks after the drama, Zhou appeared on stage again as if nothing had happened, but those who knew him testify that the difficult event turned him into a different person. Zhou suffered excruciating pain inside and showed nothing. And unfortunately, even his professional career, although he stuck to it as usual, hid its face. Zhou sold fewer and fewer records. From 1973 to 1975, Zhou recorded many songs, none of which were successful. The album “The White Suit,” eponymous to the song mentioned at the beginning of the article, was a commercial failure.

Success again, Indian Summer

And again came Jacques Pelle as the savior. The artistic director sniffed for a song that would once again jumpstart his protégé singer who was at the end of his contract with CBS, yes, history repeats itself, see the beginning of Jo's career. The song "Africa", by the Italian band "Albatross", written in English, once again brought to the nose of the experienced lion, Jacques Pelle, the smell of a hit. The song, in which an elderly African-American singer urges his brothers to return to the land of their ancestors, did not find an audience in Italy.

Like “The Daltons” with its “ta ga da” and recited lines, this song also contained an original feature, “ba ba ba,” which the choir hummed over a spoken, not sung, text. The song’s performer, Toto Cutugno, recites the entire song.

And yet the parallel between the two hits, turning points in the career of Jo Dessains. Remember when Jo Dessains was preparing to give “The Daltons” to Henri Salvador and Jacques Pelle forbade him to do so? Now too, the song was supposed to be given to Claude François, at the request of Toto Cutugno, but the hand of fate, with the assistance of Jacques Pelle, wanted otherwise.

Jacques Pelle stopped everything and ran to Jou and Maryse's house in May 1975 with the record under his arm. Jou and Maryse were as excited as he was, but the lyrics had to be changed, to fit the profile of the other singer. Jou pressed Claude Lemel to complete the task quickly so that the song would be aired before the summer. The song, written by Claude Lemel and his colleague Pierre Delanoe, would play with its new lyrics after the summer.

The two lyricists spent the weekend in Deauville to write the lyrics in lightning speed. The bright weather gave them the idea of ​​an Indian summer on the East Coast of the United States as a backdrop for a nostalgic love story.

“Indian Summer,” June 1975, it’s Jacques Pelle, the producer, and Claude Lemel, the lyricist. Lemel finished writing the lyrics. The artistic director, who was the best Claude Lemel knew during his long career, and he knew a lot, liked the text when Claude Lemel presented it to him but had reservations about two references: the song’s title, “Who even knows what Indian Summer is?”, and Marie Laurence’s dress, “Who even knows who Marie Laurence is?”. The artistic director asked Claude Lemel to delete these two references. Lemel insisted because he knew that their mysterious tone would only heighten the interest.

In your long dress you resemble a watercolor by Marie Laurencin, from “Indian Summer.” Painting by Marie Laurencin, 1940. Source: Wikiart

Jo Dessan backed him up because he loved the lyrics, all of them, and immediately. How right he was. This song allowed him to return to the forefront at a time when his career was in decline and his personal life was at a low point. Jo was anxious and insecure. He needed success and this future hit came at the right time.

The innovation in the performance of the song “Indian Summer” is, as mentioned, quite a rare move in its spoken sections. Toto Cutugno recites the entire song, while Jo Dassin chose to recite and sing the strophes. The song “The Daltons” was successful because of its unusualness in the musical landscape, and “Indian Summer,” in a different style, not comic, but romantic-nostalgic, was also successful for the same reason.

And because it is a love song par excellence, it exploded even further and became Jo Deschamps' biggest hit, even on an international scale. His son Julien explains that everyone would like to hear this universal declaration of love: "We will go whenever you want and wherever you want."

Jo Dessan, 37, riding the wave of the “Indian Summer” phenomenon, needed a change. Fifteen years of success had not made him happy and satisfied. He was fed up with his life and what he was, and felt trapped. Maryse was no longer the right woman. He wanted to break the monotonous, quiet balance and to be completely satisfied. The gap between his radiant image and the dark realms that had taken root within him was unknown to many.

Only a few knew, too, about the affair he had, dating back to 1972, with another woman he met in Courchevel, Christine. Soon to be 40 and the need for intense passion in midlife led him to put an end to the hesitation between the two women. Because Christine was the complete opposite of Marise. Marise was loving, thoughtful, devoted her years to her partner, the end of the deed before the end. Christine was addicted to all kinds of debauchery, drugs and destruction. Self-destruction and destruction all around. Jo was not careful enough at that moment not to fall into the death trap, literally. From Marise, the woman of his life, he moved on to Christine, the woman of his death.

Maryse understood his uncontrollable need for a different experience and did not stand in his way. “The greatest proof of love is to understand and accept,” she says. Jo embarked on a crazy path, in which all the limits of balance were breached: he went out every night, drank and smoked excessively, became addicted to cocaine. His friends no longer recognized him and many of them refused to come to his wedding to Christine in the village of Cotignac, in the south of France. For Christine, eager for publicity, this marriage to Jo Dessants was a social promotion.

Eight months later, in September 1978, their first son, Jonathan, was born. Jo, a father at the age of forty, what happiness! Julien, the second son, was born in March 1980. Two weeks after his birth, Jo asked for a divorce. The fights between him and Christine were unbearable, fistfights and throwing objects out the window. Jo wanted the best for his children and fought to get custody. Christine did not give up and the fight was violent.

Zhou asked all his friends for written evidence of his qualifications to be a good father, walked around with the divorce file under his arm, devoting all his energy to this cause. Zhou did not sleep, did not eat, lost his health. On June 18, 1980, he was granted temporary custody, an extremely rare thing in those days when the mother was given even more priority than today.

It seemed to Joe that the nightmare was over, that he could start breathing and enjoying himself, rebuilding himself and establishing order. He stopped smoking, decided to work less, record an English album in Los Angeles, spend more time in the US and Tahiti, and most importantly, devote himself to raising his sons.

In July 1980, he honored his commitment and performed in Cannes. In the middle of the performance, he suffered a serious heart attack. In his youth, he was diagnosed with a heart murmur and for this reason was exempted from military service. Zhou insisted on continuing the performance and refused to be hospitalized.

The next day he had no choice, eight days of intensive care at the American Hospital in Paris (l'hôpital américain de Paris), and three months of rest. The summer tour was canceled and Jo Dassin recovered and decided to fly to rest in Tahiti. The doctor recommended avoiding the long flight but Jo insisted. On August 20, 1980, he finally arrived in his private paradise, Tahiti, where he owned two chalets.

And here he is, climbing the stairs, four by four, seemingly in full form, to the first floor of the restaurant “At Michel Vallian” to enjoy himself with his mother Beatrice, who is visiting the island for the first time, his two young sons, Jonathan, two years old, Julien, six months old, Claude Lemel, and other friends, European and local, a dozen in all, Jo has invited everyone. They fill the buffet with plates and sit down. The atmosphere is cheerful, Jo is enthusiastic, full of plans, fishing, a trip to the island to show his mother that it is her first visit to it, a trip to another island, Taha, where he has bought a plot of land to build a house on, and suddenly collapses.

Two weeks later, the funeral, not far from the house where he grew up, in the Jewish section of Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Not many people, his father Jules and his wife Melina, the rabbi says a prayer and the mahogany coffin with silver handles is lowered into the ground. Jules is buried next to his grandfather Samuel and his grandmother Bert.

legacy

Zhu Dessan shook off all harmful influences and habits and prepared to live a new life with his two sons. He knew that he had not yet performed the songs he wanted to perform and he prepared to fill this gap. In many cases, he gave up and surrendered and did not respond to his deep needs. Now he wanted to sing in English. He had a cart full of plans to fix and take off, but his heart was not ready for it. Zhu said that in his songs he wanted to help people live. He fulfilled this mission nevertheless, despite everything.

Many of his songs are captivating, injecting shots of encouragement and directing us towards optimism. Just listen, for example, to “to you"To believe again in love, in relationships, in the past, present and future, in memories that are and will be, to accept what is not perfect, even with the small, unimportant lies in order to get the most out of it and enjoy it."Even if you didn't exist", about the great, unique, deep love, without which there is no point in life, many identify with the message. Zhu's intimate voice seems to speak to us personally.

Just listen to "Champs Elysees“, even though the avenue is no longer what it once was, and the smile comes, happiness overflows. We can cast the song on a street that we especially love. And for the chronically sad, it is recommended to listen to “And if your name is Melancholy"So that the sting weakens until it melts and fades away at the end of the song."

And finally, I chose a song that, besides being a symphony of love, unites many of us in our love for the mythological and realistic garden in our hearts. Paris.

Comments

-An interview with Jo Dassin the year he died. I was impressed by his deep, dark voice even when he spoke, his charisma, and his wisdom.

-The article is based primarily on the episode dedicated to Jo Dassin in Laurent Delouse's program, Un jour, un destin, on Channel 2.

One day, one destiny, Joe Dassin: des succès et des regrets, Réalisation: Serge Khalfon, Création et Présentation: Laurent Delahousse, 3 mai 2019, France 2

-One of the participants in this program is Robert Totan, the king of promoters, who was Jo Dessan's publicist for 13 years. For those who want to delve deeper, Link to Totan's book About Zhu Desan, who took him under his wing at the beginning of his career

-Joe Deschamps' first wife, Maryse Grimaldi, who talks a lot about him on the show, also wrote a biography of him, together with producer Jacques Pelle. Link to their book

-Link To an unofficial website, dedicated to Zhu Desan