Voice that enchanted postwar Paris reaches a new generation
Edith Piaf's life is chronicled in a film released last month – France's answer to the Hollywood biopic.
from the March 6, 2007 edition
Page 3 of 3
Unlike Sissy Spacek as Loretta Lynn, Jamie Foxx as Ray Charles or Val Kilmer as Jim Morrison, she lip-syncs Piaf's voice. Her study, down to Piaf's habits of blinking, is called a work of art. Some baby boomers, soaked in Piaf's legacy, roll their eyes at a French film that evokes all the stereotypes about romantic Paris.
The film, oddly, avoids wartime Paris entirely. Mr. Levy felt the debate focuses too much on cinematic aesthetics of Dahan's movie, and not enough on Piaf.
It was a remarkable life. Piaf's origins could not have been humbler. Her father put her, at age 5, in a brothel run by his mother – an improvement from the neglect of maternal grandparents, biographers say. She collected tips for her father's contortionist act. He wanted her to join him but she couldn't walk on her hands. One day, holding the tip basket, she was asked to sing. She knew only the Marseillaise. But her rendition astonished everyone.
As Piaf became the star of Paris, moved from obscurity to daily headlines, she became more convinced that her life was a kind of miracle. The sense was amplified by an unexplained healing, biographers say. While living in the brothel as a child, she lost her sight during an illness. What happened wasn't clear. But Piaf prayed at a shrine of St. Teresa, and the problem disappeared.
She retained a mystical, non-church-going regard for God, heard in her song "Mon Dieu," and in Roman Catholic France she always performed wearing a cross.
In a certain sense, Piaf was too authentic to be a "bohemian" in avant-garde Paris. "She would laugh at the idea of a voice coach," says Levy. "Her idea is that the voice touches the soul, and words are just a pretext to let this through."
Piaf gave away all her money, supported an entourage of hangers-on, and promoted the careers of her many male admirers. She once gave a fur coat to a woman on the street. She would say that "my voice is my treasure, and I will always perform again."
Even her trademark "La Vie en Rose" was written down on a napkin for a down-and-out singer as they sat at a cafe, and only
later performed by Piaf. She was irresistible to men. Her main tragedy was the death of husband Marcel Cerdan, the French
heavyweight champion. Her "Hymne à L'amour" was his tribute. Once established as a diva, she fiercely protected her position.
She was consumed by drugs, alcohol, clubbing, and pressure until her death in 1963. [Editor's note: The original version misspelled Mr. Cerdan's last name and misnamed the song written in tribute to him.]
"You must never forget that Edith came from the street. She was very proud. She's hard on others, but she's equally hard on herself," says Mr. Lelait-Helo. "It is always a challenge for her to be loved. She wants to be loved all the time. Her stage was where she could be safe and successful. So she lives in her art. At the end, she goes on what's come to be known as the 'suicide tour,' where she's plays every night, sings all night – and this she doesn't survive."
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