I Once Met: Johnny Hallyday
It was in Geneva, at Easter 1960. My friend Solange and I, sweet fifteen and at college, were allowed to listen to pop music on the last day of school before the holiday; so we were carrying a pack of records in our satchels on the way home.
We had heard that our idol Johnny Hallyday would be performing in a Geneva ‘dancing’ nightclub, the Grillon. Of course, there was no way that we would be allowed in as the law and our parents would not permit it. However, we thought that perhaps he would be rehearsing in the afternoon. So, after leaving college, we made our way towards the town centre.
Johnny was seventeen and had only recently become a star, but he was already an idol to us teenagers with his unique brand of original compositions of French rock. He also looked so dashing in his sexy leather outfits.
There was a crowd in front of the Grillon, so Solange and I decided to go and stand by the back exit – no one else was waiting there. After a little while, a tall man came out, clad in a conventional, thick, camel-hair coat, which made him look portly on this cold, windy spring day. We didn’t think it could be our Johnny, normally so sleek and seductive on the record covers, and we nearly let him get away. However, when he came closer, I noticed his distinctive eyes – small, slanted and piggy.
We asked him politely if he was Johnny Hallyday. Smiling, he stopped and chatted with us for a while. Then, having asked my name, he signed my record (pictured) on his bent knee, using a fountain pen. He wrote ‘ Pour Annelise, amitiés et grosses bises [friendship and big kisses], Johnny Hallyday’. Many years later – old enough to get in now! – Solange and I went to his sixtieth birthday show, in 2003, at the Geneva football ground. It was spectacular. Then, in 2013, we got tickets to see him at the Royal Albert Hall. He was still in good voice but the concert was disappointing – no pyrotechnics and none of the revolving stages with lovely violin players, as at the outdoor events. And, during the show, some people rushed in front of us, obscuring our view. The entire South Kensington French expat population must have been there. At the end of the performance, we tried very hard to meet him; we argued with the guards at the stage door. But no luck – our idol was unavailable. And sadly our Johnny’s ‘piggy’ eyes are now closed for ever. He died last December, aged 74.