Michel Legrand and Me…

Something that I found a long time ago, when you’re not in danger, your work is not very interesting, because I can search for months if I have time, slowly, nicely, from 9am to 8pm, trying and writing. But..when I have to do Summer of 42 movie, it was Friday afternoon in Los Angeles. The producer and the director took me to the screening. I said, “I love it, When do you need it?' He said, “Wednesday.” I said, 'Fine, Wednesday.' I recorded it and I was finished by Sunday night. Because when you have no time to do something, a very short time, you come up with something much more extraordinary than if you have searched for two years. That’s what I think.
Michel Legrand

***Bonjour Paris (1957) signed by Michel***

No, I want to learn. I don’t want to teach. I have been assaulted by so many saying, “Would you teach me?” No never, because I’m no good at it. I know I’m terrible at it because Nadia Boulanger got sick one night when I was a student, she said, “Can you do the class tomorrow morning?” I said, 'Sure,' and the next morning I am ridiculous. I do a monologue for three hours. I cannot understand that what I know they don’t. If you start like that how can you be a teacher? It’s ridiculous. So I’m terrible and it’s boring and I have no patience. But to learn, yes, my God, my God, that’s my nourishment.
Michel Legrand

***C’est Magnifique (1958) with the incomparable beauty of Catherine Deneuve***

I hate the idea of goals, results, limits. I’m an artist, not a politician. I’m motivated by life and by the richness and diversity of all kinds of music. Without forgetting that what’s really important is to remain a beginner. One of the most stimulating periods of your life is the time when you’re discovering things, when you’re learning. When you become too skillful, your spontaneity disappears, you’re no longer afraid of anything. I hope I never become someone whom people coolly describe as 'very professional.' Throughout my life, I’ve always wanted to vary my musical pleasures, and to remain an eternal beginner, without ever rationalizing things in terms of a 'career.' Stravinsky once said: “We insomniacs are always trying to find a cool spot on the pillow.” I’ve been searching endlessly for that spot for years!
Michel Legrand

***Legrand In Rio (1958) signed by Michel***

The first one is Ray Charles. When I gave a tiny melody to Ray, when he starts to sing, I’m destroyed, I’m on the floor because of what he does with it. I know how good this is, what I wrote, but when he sings it, it’s a million times better and he’s the only one. If anyone else tries to sing it, even the great ones, it’s nothing. The emotion was so high because he understood so deeply every little crotchet. For me, he’s not a singer; he’s a huge inventor. You give him a string quartet and when he sings, it’s a symphony orchestra. Streisand, she sings so well and she’s so musical instinctively. When she sings, it’s better than what I wrote too. But Ray was the highest one of them, because every note had a life with him.
Michel Legrand on Ray Charles, his favorite interpreter of his music
I put a great deal of faith in melody. Nadia Boulanger always said: "Put whatever you want above and below the melody but, whatever happens, it’s the melody that counts." For example, modern music tends to bore me now. It does, of course, contain innovative rhythmic and contrapuntal devices but, without melody, its lifeblood, it is lifeless and this helps to dehumanize it. For my part, melody is a mistress to whom I’ll always be faithful.
Michel Legrand

An Oscar is a gold star, a piece of flattery, the sweet taste of success but, deep down, it doesn’t make you any better or worse as a composer. Your strengths or weaknesses remain unchanged. When I was a boy, I imagined that I had a pot of grease with special powers: If I dipped my fingers in it, I would have the technique of a Horowitz. Unfortunately, Oscar statuettes aren’t covered in grease! In any case, that’s not what counts: I wrote all that music for and because of the cinema. Without films, none of it would exist.
Michel Legrand

***The Young Girls Of Rochefort (1968)***

I saw Michel Legrand perform once at Birdland, a jazz club in New York City in March, 2007. The occasion was a celebration of Monsieur Legrand's seventy-fifth birthday, a special event with the redoubtable Ron Carter accompanying on bass and the equally talented Lewis Nash on drums. It was a rare club appearance for the legendary composer/conductor and three-time Academy Award winner (with thirteen nominations!). A large, black Bosendorfer concert grand piano sat menacingly in the center of the Birdland stage, installed especially for Monsieur Legrand's performance. It looked as impregnable as a fortress, ready to thwart anyone who might dare to attack it.

The club buzzed with anticipation, as Legrand had not toured in decades and most of his appearances were in elegant concert halls, L'Olympia or Salle Pleyel in Paris, or Carnegie Hall in New York City. A cultured man of letters, multiple Grammy and Oscar winner, a future Legion d'Honneur award designate, Monsieur Legrand had left the clubs and saloons decades earlier. It was going to be a memorable night...

Michel Legrand was born in a Parisian suburb and showed a proclivity for music at an early age. His father, composer Raymond Legrand, abandoned his wife and two young children shortly after Michel was born. That left Michel with a lonely and desolate childhood. By his own admission, Michel was moody and he found salvation in a battered, upright piano in the apartment. By four years of age, he was showing prodigious talent and by the time he was ten, Michel enrolled in the Paris Conservatoire, where he studied classical music under the renowned and fearsome teacher, Nadia Boulanger.

Madame Boulanger taught piano and composition for seven decades, primarily at the Conservatoire and in her Paris apartment, and her students included future classical composers Aaron Copland, Elliott Carter, Virgil Thomson, and Philip Glass, to name a few. Occasionally, a jazz artist might sneak in, like Quincy Jones, but Nadia Boulanger was a devoted classicist at heart. Her influence was enormous and she was close to Igor Stravinsky, a composer whom she deeply admired and championed during their friendship which lasted a span of some sixty-five years. No less a towering figure in popular music than George Gershwin visited with Nadia Boulanger in 1927 requesting private lessons. After conversing for thirty minutes, Madame Boulanger flatly declined Gershwin, "I can teach you nothing." Clearly, Nadia Boulanger was not someone to be trifled with.

Michel Legrand spent seven years studying with Boulanger at the Conservatoire and mastering skills in counterpoint, fugue, piano and solfege - a method to teach pitch and sight singing. Michel's world was irretrievably upended one night in 1947 when he saw Dizzy Gillespie perform a jazz recital. Michel was blown away by what he saw and he began to supplement his classical education with jazz improvisations. Blame it all on Dizzy! For her part, Nadia Boulanger was unimpressed, "Nadia Boulanger, she hated it. She fought with me and said, 'No no no, this stupid, ridiculous music with three chords, don’t talk to me about it. No, no, you are a classical musician, Michel.' She was doing some dinner at her home and she liked me very much as her student. She invited for dinner three people like Paul Valéry, Jean Cocteau – it was extraordinary - so I was in the dark listening. At the end of the dinner, she’d say, 'One of my students is going to play something for you.' So every time, I played jazz, because in front of her guests, she couldn’t throw me out."

***I Love Paris (1954) 8 million sold, paid $200, nice trade!***

When he graduated, the seventeen year old Legrand accompanied French singers like Henri Salvador and Juliette Greco as he continued broadening his musical experiences. In 1954, when he was barely twenty-two, Michel recorded I Love Paris, an instrumental album of classic French chansons. A resounding success, I Love Paris sold eight million copies. For his efforts, Michel received a paltry two-hundred dollar payment upfront. Years later, Michel was nonplussed, "I didn’t care. It was the first recognition of my orchestrating. It was the first time I was seen in America. I have to tell you, for this television show in New York on NBC, the seven minutes I did, I was paid $7,000. I’ve never seen such a fortune before in my life. I was the king of New York. Every night I went to the best restaurants, I invited all my friends. I went to the clubs. At the time on Broadway, there was the first Birdland. It was extraordinary, and I didn’t want to go back to France. I said to my friends, 'I’m staying here.' I almost did. I Love Paris was a very good launch for me. I was very pleased with it."

***Legrand Jazz (1959) signed by Michel “Americalement”***

As expected, Columbia Records was equally pleased, and more albums followed as Michel worked with jazz legends, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bill Evans and Ben Webster in 1958 on Legrand Jazz. Michel recalled, "I remember the recording. Everyone in New York said Miles at that time in the Fifties was the king of the scene. All the jazz guys with whom I worked said to me, “If Miles likes you, you’ll work in New York. If Miles doesn’t like you, you’d better go home now.” That’s exactly what they told me. They said, “When Miles goes to a session, he arrives fifteen minutes late on purpose. He opens the door of the studio and he stays at the door for five minutes to listen to it. If he likes it, he goes in and undoes his trumpet case, and he starts to play. If he doesn’t like it, he goes out and you’ll never hear from him.” So I said, 'Jesus Christ.' It’s exactly what he did, you know. At that time, Columbia recorded in a church on 30th Street, extraordinary sound. So I was rehearsing with the orchestra and after fifteen minutes the door opened, and Miles arrived with his trumpet case and he stays at the door a few minutes. Then he closes the door, he goes in, he sits down and he starts to play. The first take we did together, he comes to me and he says, “Michel, you like the way I played it?” I said, 'Miles, it’s not for me to tell you how to play.' He said, “Absolutely you have to tell me how you want me to play your music." Though only twenty-six years old at the time, Michel Legrand's stature and reputation was growing as quickly as his eclecticism.

***The Windmills Of Your Mind (1969) Nobody was ever cooler than Steve McQueen!***

Michel also brought his singular talents to film, and his impressive filmography includes early work with French auteurs, Jean Luc Godard (seven films) and Jacques Demy (ten films). These film makers were part of La Nouvelle Vague, the French New Wave which unleashed the acting talents of Jean-Paul Belmondo, Catherine Denueve, Anna Karina, Jean Seberg and so many others. Along with Francois Truffault, Godard was probably the most influential. The hallmark and style of these directors was improvised dialog, portable equipment which created a faux documentary perspective, quick camera shots with sharp angles, and dramatic cutaways that left a jarring experience for the viewer. Partly, this was their vision, but it was also defined by necessity and economics. It was simple, the more film that was shot, the costlier the film became. In a way, our collective attention deficit disorder begins here.

In all, Michel scored over two-hundred films in his lengthy and storied career, and worked with everyone from Robert Altman to Orson Welles, Clint Eastwood to Barbra Streisand, an amazing oeuvre. He won his first Academy Award for Best Original Song in 1968, "The Windmills Of Your Mind" from The Thomas Crown Affair. He also won for Best Original Dramatic Score in 1971 from Summer Of '42 , and Best Original Song Score in 1983 for Yentl. Equally worthy of Oscar consideration, though criminally overlooked, was Michel's work on Never Say Never Again, Sean Connery's swan song as James Bond in 1983, the only real and true Bond. There are some movies (and songs) that Oscar never gets right!

***The Happy Ending(1969) My kind of anniversary celebration!***

For me, the first exposure to the music of Michel Legrand was 1971's Brian's Song, a made for television film that featured Billy Dee Williams as Chicago Bears running back Gale Sayers and James Caan as his teammate Brian Piccolo. It tells a heart wrenching tale of two teammates from different backgrounds who had love and respect for each other in a racially charged environment. Remarkably, Piccolo and Sayers became the first interracial roommates in the history of the NFL in 1969. Unfortunately, Brian Piccolo succumbed to cancer one year later when he was twenty-six years old. As Gale Sayers accepted the George S. Halas Most Courageous Player Award for his comeback from injuries in 1969, he deferred to his teammate, "He has the heart of a giant and that rare form of courage that allows him to kid himself and his opponent -- cancer. He has the mental attitude that makes me proud to have a friend who spells out the word 'courage' 24 hours a day of his life. . . . I love Brian Piccolo, and I'd like all of you to love him, too. Tonight, when you hit your knees, please ask God to love him." When Billy Dee Williams delivers these very same lines in the movie, it is his most shining moment ever as an actor, even eclipsing his work as a Colt 45 Malt Liquor pitchman! I was babbling like a little boy when I heard those lines, all right I was young then, but still, it remains a powerful and poignant emotional touch stone. And Michel Legrand composed a lovely, haunting melody which conveyed the sadness and sorrow without being overly mawkish or maudlin.

So, there was a lot to be excited about when I saw Michel Legrand perform at Birdland thirty-six years later, we shared a lot of history and tears, whether he knew it or not. The show was a bit late starting and just then, Michel emerged from backstage and sauntered toward the bar. He was tall, elegantly dressed in black tie and he was greeted warmly by friends. I hovered nearby with some vinyl, just in case. I had practiced my lines, over and over. My eight years of grammar and high school French would finally pay untold rewards. A window opened in their conversation, I jumped in, "Bon soir, Monsieur Legrand. Vous etes tres gentille. Monsieur, s'il vous plait, pourriez-vous signer mon vinyl?" My lines were impeccably delivered with perfect elocution. Monsieur Legrand greeted me cheerfully, as though I were a long lost friend from the 6th Arrondissement. He grabbed my arm, then he unleashed a fusillade of French in a burst that overwhelmed me. I had no idea what he was saying, I felt all the blood drain from my face, I muttered quietly, "Mais non, je parle un peu de francais, un petit peu." "But no, I speak a little French, very little." Indeed, my fraudulence had been unmasked. With unfailing bonhomie, Michel inscribed the vinyl and then left to perform on stage with Messrs. Carter and Nash.

Thankfully, the show lived up to expectations as Michel Legrand is a virtuoso pianist. The imposing black Bosendorfer sounded warm and inviting in his skilled hands. He played songs from his immense discography, "You Must Believe In Spring", "The Summer Knows", and "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" and he sang two songs in a fey voice that was hushed and moving: "What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life?" and "The Windmills Of Your Mind" en francais. I did not join in. The highlight for me was an instrumental "Brian's Song", a bit jaunty perhaps, but not a funereal dirge. No tears this time, just warm remembrances and deep love for Gale Sayers and Brian Piccolo.

Michel Legrand was asked recently if he reflected on his achievements, "No. I don’t want to have anything in the past. I want to be a man without any past. For two basic reasons. First, I don’t want to be tempted to listen to one of my old records which was a success and try to do it again. I don’t want to fall into that trap. Also, I don’t want to listen to an old record or an old film and say, “Jesus God, how could I write such shit?” I don’t want to be tempted or to suffer."

Michel Legrand, composer, conductor, and bon vivant. His music does not suffer anyone.