AmNews

SEVEN QUESTIONS FOR JEAN-CLAUDE BAKER

As forces of nature go, Jean-Claude Baker is relatively benign. But a force he is, and as lord and master of 42nd Street's Chez Josephine since 1986, he has presided over an empire that is perfectly encapsulated in the painting (by Mireille Miller) that hangs in the restaurant's front room. Packed with dignitaries, many of the theatrical variety, the painting is testament to Jean-Claude's success, and to his uncanny ability to make even the most transient restaurant-goer (or for that matter, interviewer) feel like a long-lost friend. One of the thirteen adopted children of celebrated chanteuse Josephine Baker (1906-75), Jean-Claude has been many things in his sixty years - including a bellhop at Paris's Hotel Scribe (where he first met Josephine at age 14), a professional recording artist, and an author. But Chez Josephine is more than just a shrine to the banana-clad star of La Revue Negre and the Folies Bergere: it's an institution that's been serving up some of the city's finest duck a l'orange, lobster cassoulet, and boudin noirk, and whose piano players (including a 17 year-old Harry Connick, Jr.) have entertained thousands of hungry theatergoers who have flocked the Theatre Row to catch a show at Playwrights Horizons or any of the numerous venues that dot this well-trodden stretch of 42nd Street.

PH: Before you opened Chez Josephine in 1986, you ran a popular disco in Berlin, The Pimm's Club, but from what I've read, your experience with food was relatively limited. At the time, although this block had been cleaned up some by [former Playwrights Horizons Artistic Directors] Bob Moss and André Bishop, it was still something of a work-in-progress. So why open a restaurant?
JCB: I like to say, I am an American citizen with a passport and a French accent, you know, so what else could I do, but open a bistro on 42nd Street? Indeed, I'm crazy, I'm allergic to garlic, I know nothing about wine, I didn't even know the difference between the shape of a bottle of Burgundy and a bottle of Bordeaux. But I love people. And so I was looking for something, and a friend of mine said, maybe there is a place for you on 42nd Street, between Nine and Ten, and I was very offended, and humiliated. I said, "Listen, I'm doing bad, but not that bad." But of course I came here, and I was delighted to discover what many New Yorkers didn't know - the block called Theatre Row.

PH: Is it true that before Chez Josephine, this place used to be--
JCB: The place used to be a massage parlor. And there was a sign that said "$10 - Complete Satisfaction."

PH: Has anything really changed?
JCB: Well, it costs you much more than ten bucks. But it's still complete satisfaction. It really does still apply.

PH: But obviously you've seen a lot of change on this block.
JCB: André Bishop used to tell me, whenthere were very few customers willing to go to this sectionof town, the ladies of the night would go outside Chez Josephine, which was called The French Palace, and if a man would come, even with his wife, they would grab the man at 7:30 and say, "Come, we give you a better time than the theater." So Playwrights Horizons was competition for the ladies of the night. It's fascinating.

PH: How would you characterize your relationship with Playwrights Horizons?
JCB: Without Playwrights Horizons, I would not be here anymore. Or I would not be the sole owner of Chez Josephine. When I opened, I had no money, and next to me was playing Driving Miss Daisy. Which literally allowed me to survive the most dramatic three months of any restaurant's life, and even when it moved to the John Houseman, it was even better for me, because the theater was bigger. So it really was a marriage made in heaven. And there is happiness and trepidation, and sometimes, like every couple, some little fight, but I literally feel that I am the common-law wife of Playwrights Horizons. And after seventeen years, I think it's time that we legalized the marriage.

PH: Looking at the Miller painting - I see Billy Joel, Natasha Richardson, Jessye Norman, Hal Prince, Howard Kissel, Al Hirschfeld, Mikhail Baryshnikov...but I don't recognize everyone in there.
JCB: She took two years to do it, and when she gave me the picture, I cried. Because some people had died in between. There are people in it who are not famous, but everyone who comes to my place is a friend. Because I know how to treat a VIP, how to treat a minister, a star, and when you care about people, you know. Some show business people come here, and want to be seen. And admired. And I know how to protect them. When Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson are here, they want to be in private with their own friends. I know that. When Maya Angelou comes, she wants to be in private. When Tom Cruise comes with his children, he wants the privacy because it's disturbing for the children to be watched while they're eating.

PH: Any regrets?
JCB: I love Edith Piaf. She was my idol when I was younger. I have no regrets. Non je ne regrette rien. What good is it to have regrets? What good is it? That I was not born with blonde hair? That I was not born six foot two? I have been a survivor, just like Josephine, and it's a little bit sad because when you survive, you keep thinking about surviving, and you don't have time to enjoy your own life. And the friendship of the people who care about you, and love you.

PH: What has been most pleasurable for you in watching this block change over the years?
JCB: I came here and sort of became the big brother, the "father" of this block. So I follow the ups and downs, and the magic that happens on Theatre Row is like life. Children grow up, and they go on, and they fly, and some will take the Concorde, and some will stay on the farm and ride the tractor. And let's face it, it's here for many, many more years to come, and in some ways, yes, I feel very proud to have been a part, as little as I have been, of that wonderful experience in the greatest city in the world, which is New York City. And we believed in it. That's why we are here. We believe in it. And when we are done, we should all be very proud of what we have done.

Chez Josephine, 414 West 42nd Street, (212) 594-1925. Mireille Miller's painting may be viewed at www.chezjosephine.com. Jean-Claude's book about his adopted mother, Josephine: The Hungry Heart, is currently available at bookstores nationwide or by calling the National Book Network at 1-800-462-6420.