In 2013 I was in New York to screen one of my films at the Harlem International Film Festival. While there I learned that one of Josephine Baker’s self-described adopted sons, Jean-Claude Baker, had opened a restaurant, Chez Josephine, in what was still a sketchy part of the theater district (42nd Street between 9th and 10th Avenue) in honor of his “mom.”
Due to a malformation of her uterus, Josephine could have no children of her own. However, beginning in 1953, Josephine engaged in an experiment in racial harmony with her third (gay) husband, Jo Bouillon. They assembled what they called her “Rainbow Tribe” of twelve children adopted from different parts of the world. To support this large family, Josephine continued to perform for the rest of her life.
Jean-Claude Tronville-Rouzaud first met Josephine in Paris in 1957, when he was fourteen years old, and later became a close friend and confidant. Although never formally adopted by her, she considered him one of her own. He loved her deeply enough to change his original last name by legally adopting hers, and in 1986 he opened Chez Josephine.
Twenty-seven years later, I was eating fusilli with mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, and black truffles in the ornate dining room of red banquettes and pictures of a scantily-clad Josephine on the walls. I was still at the beginning of my research on the Queer Harlem Renaissance and didn’t realize how deeply intertwined Josephine was with New York’s theater life before she moved to Paris in 1925. Nor did I know she was bisexual. That part of her biography hadn’t been much trumpeted. However, I spoke French, had lived in Paris on several occasions, and had visited her chateau, Milandes, in the south of France. I asked if Jean-Claude Baker was there that evening and upon learning that he was, I introduced myself. Jean-Claude was charming, a bit florid and theatrical, but that was entirely in keeping with the mise-en-scène.
When I mentioned my film work and research on the Queer Harlem Renaissance, Jean-Claude said I simply had to read the biography he had published about his “mother” in 1993, Josephine The Hungry Heart. As it happened, there were copies on display at the bar. I bought one and received a complimentary Josephine Baker cocktail featuring Grey Goose Vanilla and Amaro.
I did not know what I held in my hands. Jean-Claude Baker spent 18 years obsessively researching his mommy dearest’s life. “I read everything about her I could find because I loved her, hated her, and wanted desperately to understand her.” The resultant biography, 529 pages, left out nothing, glossed over nothing, sugar coated nothing. And it was through his biography that I learned about Josephine’s many same-sex affairs. Jean-Claude mentions six by name: Clara Smith, Evelyn Sheppard, Bessie Allison, and Mildred Smallwood, all of whom she met on the Black performing circuit before shooting to superstardom in Paris. Then came Bricktop and Colette. (Frida Kahlo is another candidate.)
Of course, Josephine was famous for her husbands, her heterosexual conquests, and her pet cheetah Chiquita. In retrospect, it seems obvious that Josephine was a sexual supernova; labels could hardly contain her, and even “bisexual” seems inadequate to describe the effect she had not only upon men and women but international audiences everywhere.
I learned about Josephine Baker and Clara Smith too late to include them in my early documentary “T’Ain’t Nobody’s Bizness: Queer Blues Divas of the 1920s.” If there’s a re-do, I’ll definitely make room for Clara Smith. Josephine Baker was not a blues singer, but she was certainly part of the Queer Harlem Renaissance.
Nota Bene. Whatever demons Jean-Claude was trying to exorcise through his tell-all biography apparently got the better of him. He committed suicide at his East Hampton home 18 months later.
-Robert Philipson
Read about the professorial foray that prompted this autobiographical essay, Whatever Happened to Clara Smith?
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