Jazz pianist Kirk Lightsey found respect in Paris that was missing in the United States — Andscape

Pianist Kirk Lightsey moved to Paris permanently in 1994. After moving there, Lightsey, then 87, joined one other wave of African Americans to maneuver to the City of Light.

Since the early twentieth century, Paris has been a magnet for African Americans who saw the country and city as a refuge from the brutal reality of racism in the United States. For generations of black Americans, Paris has offered opportunity, recent beginnings, and an escape from the constant hum of racism.

As a highly regarded jazz musician, Lightsey was a part of a wealthy jazz tradition that had delighted Parisians since the early twentieth century, when jazz was introduced by the regimental bands of black American soldiers who spread the exciting recent music throughout France.

While Paris was under no circumstances a paradise for people of various races, for a lot of African writers, musicians, and artists the city was a protected space where their humanity was not only recognized but valued.

“Paris was welcoming,” Lightsey said from his home in Paris during a recent interview. “I felt more at ease. I felt appreciated. I felt like people were people, and I was just a human being to all people, and I was very appreciated. It was wonderful to be here. It was great.”

Born and raised in Detroit, Lightsey began playing piano at age 5 and spent his teens and early maturity becoming a part of the city’s vibrant jazz scene. Eventually, Lightsey was prompted to maneuver to Paris when the burden of racism became an excessive amount of to bear.

The first incident occurred while he was serving in the army.

Lightsey was drafted in 1960 and was a member of the Fort Knox Army Band. During one visit, Lightsey and his then-wife decided to go off base for dinner.

“She was visiting me at Fort Knox. We were hungry. We just drove down the hill about 15 minutes from Fort Knox,” he recalled. “I said, ‘I’ve never been to this place, but it looks pretty good, so let’s go in and get something to eat.’ We went in, I was in my uniform, and they immediately said, ‘Excuse me, we don’t serve blacks here.’ I didn’t know what to do. All I could do was take Shirley’s hand and walk out. It was the most outrageous thing that had ever happened to me, as far as race was concerned. And they still expect me to fight for my country.”

In addition to soldiers, black musicians weren’t spared the humiliation of racism during their tours.

“The whole Count Basie band had to do it, a lot of people who were on the road, all these black musicians at the time had to go through it,” Lightsey said. “That’s why so many black individuals who were playing music at the time decided to come back to Europe, decided to come back to Paris, and most of them stayed. They stayed because they knew after they got back to the States they were going to get their asses kicked by white toes.

“There was no racial issue here (France). The French were really happy to accept us as artists and had great respect for us.”

After his discharge, Lightsey became a staff pianist at Motown Records and continued to achieve fame by fiddling with a few of Detroit’s finest musicians. In the mid-’60s, Lightsey joined trombonist Melba Liston’s all-female band and made a pilgrimage to New York.

After his time with Liston, Lightsey moved to California in 1969 to work with vocalist OC Smith, during which era he made his first trip to Paris. He then joined saxophonist Dexter Gordon’s band, returned to New York, and have become a fixture on the New York jazz scene.

One night, Lightsey was riding a crowded subway back from a concert when he was arrested by the New York City Transit Police on a vague charge of hit-and-run. He later learned that he and other black passengers had been racially profiled by the Transit Police in a scheme that was uncovered when the Transit Police targeted an off-duty black police officer. Lightsey sued the city and won a positive settlement seven years later.

“I was working all over New York at the time and had been to Europe a few times,” he recalled. “I was playing in Paris, and Paris seemed like a good place to live.”

Lightsey decided to make use of the settlement money to maneuver to Paris along with his recent wife, who was French. At 57, he had had enough.

The subway incident was the final straw.

“What was happening politically was a big part of why I left the States and came to Europe,” he said. “The club owners were dying and things were changing in New York in the business and it just didn’t feel the same. It’s worse now than it was then, but it was bad enough then. It was at a time when a lot of American musicians were moving to Paris and Europe because life in the States was just so ugly for black Americans, and especially black American musicians. A lot of people moved here. And I came here and found a lot of people who were my friends.”

There was no shortage of labor for Lightsey, who enjoyed widespread recognition at this point in his profession. He worked repeatedly at several clubs in Paris, the surrounding countryside, and taught at an academic program outside of Paris. Lightsey believes his profession in Paris has reached one other level.

“Yes, that happened. I was at a different level because now not only was I from New York and playing from New York, but it was a great level,” he said. “And I was one in every of the best pianists in Paris and other parts of Europe that I had been to. So I was on a ladder going up.

“Life in Paris was very easy. I just had to learn the language. But it wasn’t that hard because people in Paris at that time were trying to learn English, so they practiced their English with me back and forth. I don’t have to speak French as much as I did when I came here.”

Because of the historical origins of black jazz musicians in France, Lightsey said, he and other jazz musicians enjoy a level of respect that is usually lacking in the United States.

“My French wasn’t bad. It was beginner’s French, but when people talked to me, they knew I wasn’t French, I wasn’t African, I was from the United States. And that earned them respect,” he said. “Being here and being an American musician, and also being a musician from the States and living in Paris, was a great honor for them. So I was very respected for being a musician and being from the States. I worked all the time. So it was a great feeling.”

After we finished talking, I asked Lightsey what he had gained from moving to Paris. “You gain freedom,” he said. “You gain the language. You gain proximity to very interesting places, like Germany. You’re close to Vienna, you’re close to other worlds. And that’s great, because you can hop on a train and go anywhere.”

How does he see himself? As a black Frenchman? As a black man living in Paris? “As an American living in Paris with a French family, my French wife and my French daughter,” he said.

Would Lightsey ever consider returning to the United States?

“Never, not even in the next life,” he said. “What’s going on there politically is crazy. It’s just crazy.”