October 19, 2025

Using the rushes from an edition of a French television programme, this rather uncomfortably follows the appearance of acclaimed jazz musician Thelonious Monk on “Profiles of Jazz”. It’s hosted by Henri Renaud, himself a pianist, and what now ensues isn’t the easiest watch. I suppose the elephant in the room is whether or not the interviewer is actually treating Monk in a racist fashion, or whether it’s a combination of the hot-lights, language b… read the rest.

Using the rushes from an edition of a French television programme, this rather uncomfortably follows the appearance of acclaimed jazz musician Thelonious Monk on “Profiles of Jazz”. It’s hosted by Henri Renaud, himself a pianist, and what now ensues isn’t the easiest watch. I suppose the elephant in the room is whether or not the interviewer is actually treating Monk in a racist fashion, or whether it’s a combination of the hot-lights, language barrier and a fair amount of bourbon that create an awkward scenario for both. Renaud adopts a style that reminded me a little of David Frost as he leans on the piano, casually, asking questions in English and then translating - and augmenting - in French. This can’t have helped but disassociate Monk from the process, and he never looks like he is interested in doing much more than getting in and out of the studio as quickly as possible. Does Renaud ask legitimately probing questions about his guest’s background, his early life, his marriage or is he rudely prying into matters that don’t concern him in order to stereotype Monk? Well my jury was out on that. So many artistes who are interviewed should never have agreed to speak. They ought to have insisted on their talent doing their chatting for them, and stick to saying hello, goodbye and the release date of my LP is. The selective editing of these scenes could have been used to illustrate just about any perspective from talented musician to chain-smoking whisky drinker, whilst a smug-looking and suited interviewer appears to look on with interest or with contempt or with his own fastidious brand of 1960s television professionalism. Any combination of those could have emanated from the raw material available here and I have to say that I didn’t think race was the source of the issue, it looked more like a clash of styles between the two men that this production merely serves to exacerbate. It might have been interesting were it to have concluded with the actual transmission from the night. That way, we could have enjoyed more of his pianist mastery, seen just what the finished product looked like and judged better for ourselves.

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