Arts and Ideas; Josephine Baker: Jai Deux Amours; J'ai Deux Amours; Part 1

Good evening and welcome to Arts and Ideas. I'm Margot Stage. Josephine Baker has been called Nefertiti, the Queen of Shiba, and Cleopatra all rolled into one. As a singer and performer, she reigned the Paris stage for over 30 years. Tonight we begin our month-long focus on African-American Arts and Letters, with Jay Doza Moore, a two-part radio drama on the life and loves of Josephine Baker. It was written and produced by Perry Carter, and was made possible in part with grants from the Massachusetts Cultural Council. Jay Doza Moore just won a prestigious Ohio State Award for Performing Arts and Humanities.

The Jim Box is screwing up, and that's my side, now. Ain't nothing wrong with the box. How much did you put in the jukebox, man? I put in a quarter, but that's not the point.

Here's one quarter, U.S. Now what's the point? The point is, this is America, my man, the bastion of capitalism haven't you ever heard that the customer is always right. What kind of a businessman are you anyway? America, land of the free. You mind your business, Bingo. And I don't need nobody telling me about America. If I want to listen to a little jazz on the radio, it's my bar and my prerogative. That's also America. And if you don't like that arrangement, you can tell your story walking, chief. Yeah, big man, let's push the customers around a little bit. Well, well, well, look with the wind blew in. What are you two doing together? I'm more. I'm more of my ass. I could leave this boy's mom. I was down on Tremont and needed a cab and here comes Scott. Lucky because you know you can't get a cab up town if you're the wrong flavor if you know what I mean. So what's up, Gage? You're in and it's fool over here hassled me, Jones, are you giving Gage a hard time

tonight? It turned out my music for some old jazz. Nobody wants to hear that cry. I told you what you can do, homeboy. I ain't your homeboy and I can't understand why I can't hear what I want if I'm in here spending my money. Boy, boy, it's light now. It's a little music with all of this. Music. The Pythagorean's auditorium extension of the mathematical form. Oh, I see Bingo is in good form tonight. Hey, give Scott a call one over there on me. Thanks for the ride, homeboy. Hey, it was no problem. Boy, you're so quiet over there, I forgot you was even here. So how'd you be? I'm all right. Just a little tired. You still in school? Yeah. One more year and I can give up driving that damn cab. Well, you hang on in there. And a very good evening to you. My name is Eric Jackson. I bring you a program of jazz and improvisational music that we call Eric in the evening. Tonight, we've got a very special program for you with a very special guest stopping by. And we'll tell you about that right on the other side of this message.

Yeah, I can't wait. Jones, you keep messing with Geach and you're going to see the mean South Carolina side of him. Tell the fool something. If the heart is the middle, and the soul is the middle of the middle, then jazz is the heart and the soul. Why don't you talk some sense sometimes, old man, instead of all that old foolishness? Young man, you are not nor do you aspire to be on my mental plateau. Therefore, my oratory is perceived by you as being mere foolishness. I assure you that this is your shortcoming, not mine. Good man. Now you listen up. No, you listen up. I am an artist. I performed all over the world with some of the great co-creas and love, even Josephine Baker. Jazz is a great art fan. You should buckle your mouth, open your oratory colors, and listen. Yeah, right. About the only thing you can perform on is a wine bottle. Nobody wants to hear all that old fantasy. What in your day?

Ha-ha. As I mentioned, just before we broke, we have a special guest tonight, a woman that's known to millions throughout the world, and she transcends jazz or even music for that matter. Tonight we have with us the lovely Josephine Baker. Well, my goodness, what an intergaption. Thank you, Aik. Josephine, who? Hey, Bingo. Is that who you were talking about? And we're going to listen to this. Cool at Johnson. My first question, Miss Baker, is what brings you to town? Please. Call me Josephine. All right. Josephine. What brings you to town? I'm here to speak at an NAACP Benefit dinner. After I leave here, I'll be speaking and performing in a number of cities around the country. Really? Is this a new activity for you, your involvement in the civil rights movement? Not at all there. In fact, civil rights and the fight for equality pretty much dominate my life. Performing is second day. I think people of color here in the 60s have to take that attitude, regardless of professional.

So where are you living now, Josephine? Are you back in this country now? No. I'm living in Monaco. You left Paris? I haven't lived in France for some time now. So what about that change? Eric, it's such a long story, and there's probably so much that you and your listeners don't know about me. I don't get a lot of press in this country anyway, and when I do it's negative. So there are big holes in my life, and I've given up trying to plug things up. But Josephine, we'd like to even up the score here, and we've got nothing but plenty of time. Oh, Eric, I thought we were just going to listen to some old recordings or something. Josephine, come on now. Don't you think people would be interested in learning a little about you? Okay. Since you put it that way, tell me what you want to know. All right. First of all, let me say, where do the bakers come from? Well, my main name was Carson, and we were from St. Louis.

Everyone called me Tumpy. My father's name was Eddie Carson, or drummer. Everyone said I was just like him. I have a brother, Richard, and two sisters, who had a different father, and my father deserted us when I was about two. And your mother? And my mother's name was Carrie. She put food on the table by washing clothes for people. Needless to say, we got our hands wet too, and the money we made didn't buy much food. Mostly, we learned how to scrounge at an early age, and we ate a lot of rotten food out of white people's garbage cans. Tumpy, are you asleep? Yeah. That's what I thought. My stomach aches something bad, Tumpy. Your stomach always hurts. Hold your breath. That'll stop it. I ain't holding no breath. Well, just close your mouth, then. Are you going to dance in the medicine show tomorrow? If they let me, if I win that contest, they'll give me a dollar.

You ain't going to win. Oh, shut up. We're all poppies. You ain't popping. Nobody. What's that? Y'all stop that ruckus in there. It's not me, mama. That's enough of that foolishness. Mama, I hear something. Do you hear it? What in the world? Who is it? Carrie, Carrie, you gotta get out. What the hell's going on? Just get out. The white people do not crazy. They turn down everything. But why? Come back. What's going on? Come on, girls. Wake up, your brother. We gotta get out of here. Hurry. Hurry, hurry. Come on, mama. What's the matter? I don't know, child. But we can't wait. Here. Hurry. Let's go.

Let's go. Let's start here. Don't know if you all make a beat. You hear? What happened? We found out the next day that a black man was accused of raping a white woman and that what actually happened is that the black man only looked at the white woman. So the white man and the town went on a rampage. I guess you were pretty scared to go back home now. We had no home to go back, too. Our section of town was burned to the ground. 50 people were killed. It's something that I will take to the grave with me. I will never forget it. Well, so then what did you do? Where'd you go from there? We moved to Bernard Street. My stepfather was able to pick up our jobs here and there. And Mama worked in my aunt's laundry.

We kids delivered laundry. So then things were better there? Somewhat. It was still a poor rough neighborhood. I spent a lot of time in the streets and I learned how to party. And that's how I met my first husband. I was kind of young. So my mama didn't like it. But I married Willie anyway. Pretty soon, I was expecting a baby. How old were you? I was 13. The marriage lasted about a month or so. Not too long to suffer, I guess. A new child? I don't want to discuss that. So then at the tender age of just 13, you really had quite a bit behind you. Yes, I was the talk of Lincoln School when I returned. But that didn't last long. Pretty soon things got back to normal. I started going out on the streets and performing again. We used to work the corner of 23rd and market where the Book of T. Washington Theater was located. And we're all the big black acts performed. When a dance troupe called the Dixie Steppers

came to town, they were short one act. I auditioned. They liked me. And that's how I got my first shot on stage. After a few weeks, the show left St. Louis and I left with it. My mama was mad as hell. And we fought and argued about it. But she couldn't stop me. Because I was going. And I did. Most of the theaters we played weren't theaters at all, but rather dilapidated, leaky-o buildings where people sat on the floor. Sometimes we would just set up a stage in a field somewhere. It sounds kind of disorganized to me. Believe it or not, it was part of a tour, booked by the Theater Owners Booking Association, or T-O-B-A. We called it Tough on Black Asses. Really? We did break from the tour at times to play gin mills and mobster hangouts in places like Chicago and Philadelphia. It was in Philadelphia that I finally left the show.

But what prompted that? Well, I was desperately lonely. I just needed some affection. I needed to be with someone. Oh, how are you now? Why? Is there an age when you start needing love? No, I was just curious, that's all. I was 15. Well, then, so what happened? I met this guy at a rent party, and we hit it off. We went out a few more times, and then we alloped in Camden, New Jersey. Don't look so shocked, Eric. Things were different in those days. No, I am. Well, his name was Willie Baker. As you can see, I've carried his name all these years. I was young, but I felt that I knew what love was all about. And I was in it, honey. I'm going to leave that bastard and sick him and his mother. I'm tired of being put down.

Who does she think she is? Calling me a third-rate showgirl. I'm not ladskin and not for her son. You married down. I just wish he would just once take up for me. And I'll show both of them when I get a part in this show. Everybody's been talking about this show. Shuffle along. I've got to get this job. Please, Lord, let me get this job. Oh, well, here we go. May I help you? I have a appointment. See Mr. Cecil and Mr. Black. Your name is? Josephine Baker. OK, right through that door.

They're in the theater. Excuse me. Excuse me? Hi. My name is Josephine Baker. I have a appointment for an audition. Thank you for coming, Miss Baker. I'm Noble Cecil, and you'll be late at the piano. I hope you happen to come far. No, not really. Good, because I'm sorry. We won't be able to use you. Aren't you going to ask me the dance or something? You don't even know what I can do. I really don't need to see you dance. You're much too young. And you probably know this show is moving on to New York. And there's a law that says you've got to be at least 16 to perform on stage. Well, I am 16. I'd rather doubt that. But even if you were a major, too small, too thin, and too dark. Too dark?

For a colored show? That's right, Miss Baker, too dark. Are you all ashamed of your own people? No, not at all. We're just trying to do something different here. Shuffle along is going to be the first black musical on Broadway and white folks don't want to see real black folks on stage. That's why they paint their faces black. So I got to beat them at their own game and give them white black folks. It's the only way I can make money. Look, I need a job. Please, just let me do some steps for you. I can dance. I've shown you. I'm very sorry. But you just don't fit into what lands at this time. Thank you for expressing an interest, though. Again, I'm sorry. Too dark? Too dark. So what kind of person did Noble Sissle come across as being? He was very direct.

He didn't mean his words. And his pardon? You be blank. He mostly tended to his music, and he didn't say much. Well, what did you do next? Well, I'd made up my mind that I was going to leave Willie anyway, so I got a one-way ticket, and I caught a train to New York City. I was obsessed with getting a part and shuffling along. Got dance. I'm sure we're some kind of hunger, though. Then I got my fingers out of the way. What's the last time you had something to eat? What newspaper do you work for? Hey, I'm not trying to pry on your business. You could have fooled me. My name is Bingo. What's yours? Look, I'm just trying to be friendly. Because, frankly, you looked whipped. You looked like you could use some help. Well, thank you so much, Romeo. And why do you want to do something for me? I'm just that kind of guy.

That's all. You want to do something for me? Give me some more of that soup. But I ain't got no more money. Have no fear. I'll set you right up. Now, how long you been in town? Seems like forever. So what vocation led you to this enlightened metronis? Huh? Why did you come to New York City, girl? And what makes you think I'd come from somewhere else? Of course you live out of that bag. You don't give up, do you? If you must know, I'm a dancer. And I'm trying to find a job. Ooh, this is a tough town for performers. I'm a performer myself. Where have you looked? Have you heard of Shuffle Along? Shuffle Along. The hardest thing on Broadway. Well, they're starting a road company. And I'm trying to get a job in the chorus. No luck, I imagine. What makes you think that? Well, you wouldn't be sitting there eating this weak soup now, would you?

Where have you been sleeping, girl? In the park. I didn't know who. This a rough city. You got to be careful out there. You better get a job doing something. All we're going to be reading about you in the newspaper and not the entertainment section. You got any idea what you want to do? No. I've been turned down twice by Shuffle Along. Now why? I'm not yell or enough. Unfortunately, that's the way the games play. But fortunately, you have run into a man of many resources. I know a few people who might be able to help you. You will only get another shot. Maybe. First, you tell me what you got in mind. Well, first, you better get yourself cleaned up. I'll give you the key to my apartment. Oh, no, you don't. You must think I'm stupid. Look, I'm not trying anything I told you. I'm an artist myself. This job is just a stopover. You know what I'm saying? I'll give you the key, and I'll be right here working.

You can put your bags away and wash up, because you're not going to get a job looking like you do. Well, who are these people, you know? Don't worry about it. Everybody knows Bingo. Bingo knows everybody. OK. Would you better not try anything? My credo is honor. It's paramount. Huh? See, you ain't any real light powder for your face. I think so. Well, where's something real nice? Straighten your hair, and put on that powder. You'll probably be all right. OK. I'll try it again. Here's the key. Damn. Have you ever thought about taking over the instrument? Bertha. What? Could you come here for a second? What do you need? Who was that little skinny, dox skin girl

who was with Elle today? I don't know her name, but they hired her, honey, as a dancer. What? How can they do that? That's going to ruin things for all of us. Are you sure, Bertha? I'm positive. I heard Elle talking. She's going to be on the end of the course line, starting tonight. I don't understand this. What are they trying to do? Turn this into the chitlin' circuit? Is that her stuff over there? Yeah. I'm putting her crap in the hallway. She's not staying in here. Listen, everybody. We got to make that half-as-life miserable. What are we going to do? Whatever it takes. Tonight, June, when we're going on the stage, triple. Make it look stupid when we make our entrance. And tomorrow, Bertha, you know how you put this into the show. Shh.

Eva's all most done. Our entrance is coming up. Come on, everybody. Let's line up. Here we go, everybody. Let's go. Well, here it is. The beats are finally. OK. Get a step. Here we go. That bitch tripped me. Everybody laughing. So just play it off. Meet like a baby and make it a step. I think I'll cross my ass to always work with the stepbers. I'll open this audience. They love everything I do. What do you think it's like a dance? Good job, ladies.

Now, go back out there and take a bow. Take a bow. Are you kidding? Everybody's laughing at us. Yeah, Al. We've turned into a big joke thanks to the little monkey over there. Where do you think you're going? Where do you think I'm going? I'm going to change my clothes. Not in here, you're not. You know, I really don't know what your problem is. The problem is you, honey. You've been told that you really not wanted here. Well, I'm here and I'm staying and ain't nothing. You can do about it. Bertha. Throw the bitches stuff out. You wait. I'm going to kick your ass. Stay out. You monkey. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry no more. We're going to dress. Nobody else bit a mess with me.

I'm not going to cry. Sit down in this corner over here until things cool down. You've been here all night. Here's the morning paper. Listen to this. It says, in shuffle along. You can't keep your eyes off that little cross-eyed girl. She's a natural, born comic who adds a lot to the show. Now, Josephine, I want you to just relax and be yourself, no matter what anyone else has to say. I'll take care of everything. Oh, beautiful. You monkey.

Everybody's laughing at us. Thanks to the little monkey over there. You are another one. They what? You mean Cecil and Blake? Wanted me to join the Broadway cast, which was about to go on tour. I met the group in Boston. We played the Selwynn Theatre. But just how did Cecil greet you this time? He welcomed me to the cast with open arms. And he told me he hoped there were no hard feelings. Said he hoped I understood. Anyway, shuffle along was a big hit. And from Boston, we hit all the major cities, even went back to St. Louis. Then, Cecil and Blake wrote in Bamville, or as it was called then, Chocolate Dandies. It was a huge cast, over 100 performance. But the critics didn't like it. And it was always a struggle. We had a hard time getting paid sometimes. So when I got a chance to leave, I did. Next, I played at the Plantation Club in New York. You know, Florence Mills had played there.

And of course, she was really big. That was, oh, I guess, about 1925. But about the time I got there, Ethel Waters was headlining at the Plantation Club. Is there anyone fine now? In the state of Carolina? If that is, then you know, maybe she's here. She was sexy, salty. She wilded the audience's every night and never missed the performance. Ethel Waters was everything that I wanted to be. I practiced her routine until I knew her every move. I had one little featured part in the show, but I wanted more. And I knew, sooner or later, she had to get sick. And when she did, I would be right there. Ready.

What if God is there anyone fine now? In the state of Carolina? If there is, then you know her. Do you know her? Do I know? Is there anyone fine now? In the state of Carolina? If there is, then you know her. Do you know her? You said it, honey. You really did it. I didn't know you had it in you. I was flying.

Did you see me doing that, Charleston? Oh, you were good, too, honey. Oh, thank you, Charleston. I loved it. Hey, nice job, girls. And Josephine, you really made it happen, of the... I'd have to agree with you, Sam. In fact, I was better than Ethel Waters out there. Don't you think? You were good, all right? I know I can't sing as good as her, but dancing and everything wasn't our better. No, Guy said you did a good job, but now drop it. She's right outside the door. She's what? I thought the bitch was half dead. What's she doing here? She's just dropping to see other things were going. She's going to be back for tomorrow, too. Are you ready, Sam? I've got to get some rest. Oh, hi. Hi, yourself. Looks like you recovered, mighty fast. I must have been too good tonight for you. I beg your pardon.

The show is better off without you. Josephine. Just who the hell do you think you're talking to? You, you stupid, darky. Well, you, you get out of my room now. I'll be glad to get out, but you better watch your step with me, woman, if that's what you are, slick head. Because I'll make you crawl. Do you hear me? Crawl. Come on, Sam. I'm leaving her room. Who do you think she is? She'll make me crawl. Huh. Take it easy, Joe. Joe. So what did she look like? I don't know.

She wrote me a telegram. I had never met the woman. I hope it ain't another woman who has a thing for sure, girls. Remember that last one when we met? Because she was crazy. Why, you shouldn't have done everything that she told you to. Me, I kept my clothes off, honey. Well, she's crazy, that's all. What time did this woman say she was getting here? 10 o'clock. That's 945 WPD. White people's time. Well, it's still early. And I'm just about to bust something. I gotta go to the ladies' room. Wait a minute. There's a sediddy looking white woman heading this way. She looks like cash money. And would I tell you, WPD. Good evening, Miss Baker. Hi. And I'm sorry. I don't remember your name. My name is Caroline Dudley. Hi, I'm Mabel Brown. Such a pleasure to meet you both. Your telegram said you had some kind of off. That's correct.

I have a very interesting proposition. One which I hope you'll seriously consider. Shoot. Well, I'm putting together a troupe of singers, dancers, and musicians, about 25 in all. And we're going on an extended tour. Do you think something like that would interest you? I don't know. A tour doesn't exactly sight me. I did a lot of touring before. And after a while, I just got one damn. Where did you travel? You name it, I've been there. Have you been to Paris? Paris? You mean Paris, France? That's right. It'll be the first stop on our tour. What are the duckets like? I beg your pardon. How much does it pay? I'll give you $150 per week, because I want you to be one of the featured performers. I think you'll agree that's a lot of money. Well, just what do I have to do for this money? What you always do when you perform, my dear?

The Charleston black bottom, the cakewalk? Everyone in Paris, who's in, has been hearing about jazz, and they want to experience it firsthand. They've never seen colored performers like yourself. I know they're going to love you. The show was to be called La Revue Negra. What did you say? La Revue Negra, it means the black review, in French. Oh, that sounded kind of funny to me at first. You will find Paris to be a wonderful place, Josephine. And I think you're just what the show needs. So what do you say? Can I count you in? What about Mabel? Well, Mabel, would you consider a job on the chorus line for 125 a week? Are you kidding? My bag's already packed. Excellent. Well, Mabel knows what she wants to do. What about you, Josephine? I don't know. I don't think I should leave New York right now. I think things are going to really break for me. And I'm making pretty good money.

I don't know. If money is a problem, I'll offer you $170 a week. What do you say? Suppose this Vue Negra doesn't work out. That's a long way from home, you know. If I get any other job, Josephine, you take your chances. Small loss, small gain, big loss, big gain. It's that big loss thing that worries me. 200 a week, Josephine. What do you think, Mabel? Take it, dear. Paris is waiting for me, and I need some company. Damn. OK, I'll go. I'll give it a try. Very good. So we have a deal? It's a deal. I just hope I'm doing the right thing. Don't worry, everything will be fine. You won't regret your decision. Too success. Too success. Oh, David, what did I do this?

Joe. Josephine, I've been looking all over for you. Next time, let me know where you're going. I was worried about you. My god, you look terrible. Oh, shut the hell up. Well, excuse me, Miss Thing. And my father, Chacise, said, shut your mouth. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Don't be so rude. I have some people here who are also in the show, and I wanted you to meet them. This is Louis Sidney and Mard. Hi. We can't go into white folk section, so we're going to walk around the ship to see as much as we can. Mabel, actually, I'm a little tired. I think I'll stay here with Josephine. OK. We'll see you later. Hurry back. Looks like the ocean is getting the better of you. How can you tell? I don't think I'll ever get used to this. Don't worry, you will. Well, don't you sound like the voice of experience. You might say that.

I've been across this big pond quite a few times. Did you feel like this your first time? I can't say that I did. Being on water never has really bothered me. I've been on boats from the time I was a kid down on the Delta. What the hell is the Delta? Well, let's just see. Around New Orleans. Oh, I've been there. That's a nice city, nice people. In fact, you look like you come from New Orleans. And just how does a person from New Orleans look? There seems to be a lot of pinkies, you know? There's light skinned blacks everywhere. Well, they just seem to be more than a regular amount down there. That's all I'm saying. Maybe you're right, I don't know. I never really thought about it. Everything sort of hooked up with the old French, you know? My name is even French. Sydney? No, Bichet. Bichet, Sydney, Bichet. I like the way that sounds. Well, thank you. Do you always carry that thing around with you?

My sacks? Oh, yeah. This is my baby. She goes everywhere I go. Some baby. What's it been like for you, Mr. Musicman? Your light skin? Do they give you plenty of jobs? Hey, I'm still colored. If it was so easy, I wouldn't be going to Europe so often. Why, it's the only ones who can really make money play in music. Most of the places I play in, I wouldn't even be allowed in as a customer. No matter how much money I had, you know what I'm talking about? You've been around. Yeah. But is it really any better in Europe? Hell, yeah. Are you kidding? Especially in Paris. I just find it so hard to believe. Just look at this ship. They make us stand a part of the ship where we won't bump into no white people. You're right. But this ship is American, you know? Land of the free and home of the brave. A damn immigrant got more rights than we do. I'm telling you, when you get to Paris,

you'll be treated like a white girl. No. Believe it. You've met some of the people from the show. I'm sure. And what are most of them? Dark. In fact, very dark. That's what I'm saying, you see? The French could give a damn how black you are. In fact, the black of the berry, the sweet of the juice, basic. Well, they don't like their juice too sweet in America. I guess I'm just going to have to see all this for myself. I just can't believe it, though. You're going to love it. You'll be treated like a human being for the first time in your life. Don't worry. You'll see. Would you like to hear a little tune on my baby? Will it cure sea sickness? Music cures all hills, my dear. Eases the mind and cools the body. Then play on, Sidney Vesset. Play on. Well, there, well, there, damn it.

The Cowlin, would you come here, please? Is everything OK? Because he's awfully conscious, too undisciplined. I cannot put on this show in this man air. Everything's too disorganized. Oh, but you'll just have to be a little more patient. Everything will pan out. He's good to see someone has confidence in this show, because I am getting very skeptical indeed. I, for the life of me, cannot figure out why anyone would put metal on their shoes to dance. It drives me crazy. Taps, everyone loves taps, Andre. It's like music. Not in Paris, madam, Dudley. I can get on to you as a friendship.

You'll never stand for these. These clackets. Oh, you can make it work, Andre. God, help me. Cowlin, I did not introduce you to Paul Cullen here, who will be doing the poster for this show. And how are you? Very fine, thank you. So what is the poster for? It's the way we advertise the show. Ah, very good. I am having a problem, however. And what's that? The woman that you have had lining the show? More deforest. Yes. Well, I can put her on the poster. She's unattractive. Too fat. Well, what do we do? May I suggest that we use back air? Who? Josephine back air. Ah, well, certainly I think she would be perfect. Then it's settled. Have Josephine meet Paul, it is apartment, so she can pose for the poster. Good evening, I'm Zelle back air.

Why don't we get started? You can just leave your clothes on the chair in the corner. Huh? Well, you're going to be the model for the poster to advertise the show, yes? Uh-huh. Then please, remove your clothes. Uh-huh. Zelle back air. I am an artist. Now, we have a lot to do and not much time to do it, so will you please disrupt? Zelle back air. Dependence to must be removed. Yes. Let's begin. Can we first try raising one arm in an exaggerated walk? A little higher? Yes. That's it. Lean forward, just a bit. Push out your terrier.

Can you hold that? Now, try it the other way. Voila. There we go. Trimia, you did very well. We have the start of something very fine here. It is, of course, an exaggeration, a caricature but you are very beautiful. Your body is like a fine wine. Delhi's here to be saved or heard. You know, I think it's time for me to put my clothes back on. Ha-ha-ha. Master? Ladies and gentlemen, please make yourself warm.

Yeah. Yeah. Man was hell back here. You did not follow any of my instructions. This is not how I am. They whistle because you are in decent. So, what was so indecent about the review, Negra? Well, it was really kind of tame by today's standards. I had a ring of blue and red feathers around my hips and another around my neck.

It was the dancing that some people said was indecent. What about it was... Let's just say, I shook all the right parts. It was something that they hadn't seen before. In fact, our tour of Berlin almost got canceled because of it. Somehow, I don't think of Germany as a place to put on a black review in the 1920s. Oh, Berlin jumped every bit as much as Paris. At that time, believe it or not, there was music everywhere and the people were wild about jazz. How long were you in Berlin? For several weeks. And we had a ball. You seem to take a liking to champagne. I never had it before I came to Europe. It's good. Hmm. Prohibition in America has changed the drinking habits of many. Didn't change nothing for me because I never had it before or even wanted it. You're making good money now,

so there's going to be very little that you haven't tried. People are really taking notice of you here. Right now, you're the toast of Berlin. I've noticed that here, Reinhardt, has taken a particular interest in you. What exactly does he want? What a name of my manicurist, of course. I'm charming. Well, actually, he wants me to stay in Germany so that he can work with me. Oh, bet he does. Max Reinhardt is a brilliant director, but do you think that Germany is the best place for you? No. That's why I told him that I was going back to Paris. Well, we will be returning in due time, dear. But for now, we have to finish our engagement here then continue our European tour. Maybe you didn't hear me. I'm going back to Paris. What do you mean, exactly? I've been offered a part in the fall-ass Persia. You what? You can't do that. We have an agreement. Well, I'm breaking the agreement. I have to look out for my future.

I may never get a chance like this again. Why didn't you talk to me first? You're an integral part of this show. You will ruin everything for who? For everyone. Besides, have you seen the clothes that they wear in the folie bagel? I know what the folie is all about. Well, then surely you know that this is not the show for you. The women parade around in huge gowns and elaborate hairdos. They'll turn you into a mannequin. You will never amount to anything in that show. You've got a reputation. Why are you going to ruin it? Look, Miss Dudley. You looking out for yourself. And I'm looking out for Josephine. And I really don't want to discuss it no more. Why, you want to keep fooling the bitch? Don't call me names. You came to me. I didn't come to you. You will never do this to anyone again, because I am going to sue you. Well, don't spend the money early, Caroline. You will hear from me.

Why can't people just leave you alone? Boy, that's good. The folies was really a spectacular event. It was held in a huge warehouse, similar to the big movie lots of that time. Sort of like MGM, you know? How many people do you think were involved? Oh, 500 people, easy. Set designers, lighting, wardrobe, you name it. It was not small time. The show cost half a million dollars to produce. So we're talking a lot of money for that time. A lot of money for any time, sweetheart. Well, tell me more about the show specifically then. Well, I finally had my name in lights. They had this huge poster of me in front of the theater with Josephine Baker flashing in bright lights. You couldn't miss it. It was a must-see in Paris.

In the review itself, they used only blondes and redheads in the chorus line to contrast my black skin. How did it feel to be black then? Were you proud? Yeah. I felt pretty good about myself. I was different, and the French people were curious. So what else about this show made it a must-see? Well, the show stuff came when I descended from the ceiling in a huge gold cage. And we're not talking about a little small theater here. It was like coming down from the top of a stadium, the cage descended down to the level of the orchestra, which is where I came out in my banana costume. It's a little hard for me to visualize just what a banana costume would look like. Well, I had three gold bracelets on my upper arm and a girdle that had rhinestones studied bananas around my hips. The little bananas were like jello.

So every time I shook, those bananas show wobbled, as we used to say. Did the symbolism bother you? What symbolism? You know, the fact that you, a black woman, were coming on stage in a cage with bananas around your waist. Heck, I didn't have time to get into the meaning of life and all that. My blackness was what fascinated those people at that time. They were enthralled by everything black, not just me. So they weren't making fun of me or anything like that or contraire. To most of those people, I was something exotic. How you say, raw visceral. They had only seen something like me on posters and it excited them. Did you be surprised? The women loved my act the most. Really? Why do you think that is? Well, I guess you can say that I was in the right place at the right time.

It was the beginning of the age of the flapper. Are you familiar with the flapper? Sort of. Go ahead. Well, the flapper was the uninhibited woman of the 1920s. Women started doing things that were always the exclusive right of men. I mean, a woman didn't even smoke a cigarette in public. So when this little college girl came out and did her thing, loose and free, it made all the women in Paris, anyway, feel a little fear. Oh, Eric, you're just a man and a young one at that. So I don't expect you to understand those times. Did I say anything? You didn't have to sweetheart. Well, needless to say, though, the show was successful. It was a tremendous success. With this show I had Paris in the palm of my hand. My face was known everywhere. When people referred to me, it was as the famous Josephine. I was making a lot of money and I

got myself a nice apartment on the Ru Bojean, which was a nice address and an exclusive section of Paris. Who? Bricktop? I'm Travicki. I'm Traihun. Gollant, you the Frenchy. God's to speak that lingo, you know. Seems to me, you better learn to speak American first. Girl, open the windows in here. All these damn animals running around. It smells like something died in here. Oh, Brickie, come on. Come on, nothing. It's right in here, girl. I don't see how you can take it. It's not a problem. I just opened the windows. You know you need your butt whipped girl. You're the most famous woman in Paris, and your apartment looks and smells like a farm. I'll leave my animals alone. They're my company. Well, to each his own. You know one of your friends stopped by my club last night looking for you.

Who? He's actually played at the club before, Sydney. Sydney Pache. Sydney's in town? Yup. He said he just got back from Russia. No, Kidding. Sydney's my good buddy. I can't wait to see him. I'm going to try to hook up with him tonight. He told me that he's going to be playing in some show here with Noble Sissel, and that they wanted you to be in it. No, but Sissel? What is he doing over here? They're my final. Uh-uh, honey. I'm making big money and loving it. I'm just telling you, that's all. Child, what are you doing with that lemon? I'm putting it on my skin. What it looked like I'm doing. I know what you're doing. The question is why? To lighten up my skin. That's a new one on me. And you still ain't answered the question. What? Why? Bricky, hard as it is for colored folks, and you're going to ask me why. What's the human condition of colored folks got to do with that piece of lemon? I'm bleaching my skin. What the hell you think you're going to do?

Lemon yourself white? Bricky, you know what I mean. No, I'm afraid I don't. This is not America. You're successful here because you're colored. That's why my club is so successful. The rich, idle white folk can come up to the more modern and feel like they're in Harlem. I just want some respect, that's all. You can have your respect, and you don't have to change to get it. Just be yourself. I don't know a lot of things, though. Lemon has your goal. In the meantime, there's still ain't nothing like a good pork chop sandwich. OK. Wait, man, what are you doing tonight? I think I'll go over to Lijake, then maybe Maxine's, then over to your place. I don't see how you do that crap every night. But to each his own, is your little writer friend going with you? Judge? You kidding? He don't have no money. Besides, he's married. He can only come by during the day.

Just you, him and the animals, sounds like love to me. You always making fun of me. The guy I'm going out with is paying me 10,000 francs to be in his company. Well, I guess PT Burnham was right. Just be careful, you hear? Thanks. But he's rich and harmless. I'm running late. Let me put my coat on so I can get out of here. Coat, you don't have no clothes on, girl. Don't you love it? My. My, my, my. Bye. Yes, I'm a cab. After you, my cousin. Thank you.

Who's from the 10? Where's that? My hotel, of course. That wasn't in the deal. I ain't going to go to no hotel with nobody tonight. I've spent 10,000 francs tonight. That's not my problem, honey. You said you wanted to go out, not in. And as far as I know, we out. Don't you try to make a fool of me. Hey, I'm getting nasty. I'm getting out of the cab. You're not going anywhere. Get, get, get your hands off me. Are you, are you crazy, man? Next on J. Duzamore. Good evening, Pasha. It is an honor and a pleasure to be a guest in the Palace of the Grand Seigneur. Who is this black woman? Is she your slave?

Slave? I ain't nobody slave. What did you say, woman? You said, Dean. I said I ain't nobody slave. So you are not. Captain Abdi, did you bring the gold? The gold is for coming, Pasha. Surely you know the strain we're under right now. I don't understand strain, Monsieur. I understand gold. Why, Pasha? You are men after my own heart, gold. Are you sure you're not from Harlem? I do not know of this Harlem. But if they like gold there, yes, we are brethren. Pasha, you are great. I felt your mighty force as you entered the room. Surely you can continue to help us. We need you desperately to fight off the bush and we don't have a lot of riches right now. Without your help, we're going to get our butts whipped.

Butts whipped? Yeah. Get your, uh, uh, like this. Josephine. Gid is a more was written by Perry Carter and featured Linda Patton as Josephine Baker. The cast included Eric Jackson, brother blue, Christophe Johnson, Leonard Korman, Richard Nisley, Sheila Farini, Christina Byno, Valerie Stevens, Katherine Woods, George Et Johnson, June CDBD, Emma N. Crone, Jackie Harrison, and Andy Rosenfeld, casting by the new African company. Original music for the program was composed by Alice Abraham, the musicians Russ McDonald, Michael Manning, Laura Finkelstein, Brian Bell,

and John Gerhardt. Special thanks to the Public Media Foundation and the Leon Collins Dance Studio, Pamela Raff director. Gid is a more was edited by Evelyn Moore, directed by James Sprule and Missamba, with production assistance by Michelle Sweet. Gid is a more was produced in the studios of WGBH Radio Boston in association with Massamba productions. The engineer was Jane Pippock, the associate producer was David LaValle, the producer Perry Carter.

This program was made possible in part with grants provided by the Massachusetts Cultural Council. J. Doza Moore, a radio drama capturing the life and loves of singer Josephine Baker, will continue next Sunday evening at five, here on Arts and Ideas. This is 89.7 FM WGBH in Boston. Our engineer tonight was Jane Pippock, Elizabeth Cikerovsky is associate producer for Arts and Ideas, and I'm Margot Stage, good night.