# data[].attributes.body
Arising in the mid-1930s and originating in the United States, the newest style of jazz, swing, brought forth a renewed interest in jazz across the world, even in Nazi Germany.  As the world began to recover from economic depression, swing and swing-influenced music came to represent the latest trend in popular music.  Despite discrimination against jazz music and jazz culture in the Third Reich, swing found an enthusiastic and dance-hungry audience.  For a group of mostly young fans, however, swing music and dancing represented more than a passing fad.  For them it became an overall attitude towards life.

("Swing Kids Behind Barbed Wire")

# data[].attributes.body
("Famous Faces")

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Found on Google from holocaustmusic.ort.org

# data[].attributes.body
Nazi ideology regarding race extended to all aspects of cultural and social life in the Third Reich. There were strict controls over the works of art, music, literature and film that could be enjoyed, and those that were considered Entartete, or ‘degenerate.’ This regulation of cultural life culminated in two exhibitions in the late 1930s: Entartete Kunst (1937) and Entartete Musik (1938). The exhibitions were intended to ridicule and make examples of those artists and musicians considered inferior according to Nazi policy, as well as the work of modernists contrary to the Nazis’ ideals of German culture.

("Entartete Kunst and Entartete Musik exhibitions")

# data[].attributes.body
This is where the camp's prisoner orchestra were forced to perform, it's located right by the entrance and next to the sign that says "arbeit macht frei" ("work makes you free").

(Benjamin)

# data[].attributes.body
Original version - St Louis Blues Standard

I hate to see that evening sun go down
Oh, I hate to see that evening sun go down
Cause my baby, he's gone left this town

Feelin' tomorrow like I feel today
If I'm feelin' tomorrow like I feel today
I'll pack my truck and make my getaway

Oh, that St. Louis woman with her diamond rings
Pulls that man around by her apron strings
And if it wasn't for powder and her store-bought hair
That man I love would have gone nowhere, nowhere

I got the St. Louis blues, blues as I can be
That man's…

Modified version - Blackout Blues

I hate to see the evening sun go down
hate to see the evening sun go down
'cause the German he done bomb this town

feelin' tomorrow like I feel today
feelin' tomorrow like I feel today
I pack my train and make my getaway

That Churchill badman, with his wars and things
Pulls pork round by his apron strings
One for Churchill and his bloody war
I wouldn't feel as so doggone sore!

Got the Blackout Blues, as blue as I can be
Dat man got a heart like a rock cast in the sea
He won't let folks live as they want to be.
Doggone it!

(“Charlie and His Orchestra.”)

# data[].attributes.body
Leo Blech's position as General Music Director at the Berlin Staatsoper presented an unusual case during the Nazi period. Despite being Jewish, Blech maintained his role at the opera house from 1933 to 1937, protected by Hermann Göring through special permission granted to Berlin general director Heinz Tietjen. This arrangement reflected both Blech's substantial reputation in German musical circles and the complex political calculations of the Nazi leadership. The protection granted to Blech was exceptional during a time when Jewish musicians were being systematically removed from German cultural institutions. Göring's intervention allowed Blech to continue conducting at one of Germany's most prestigious musical venues for four years after the Nazi rise to power. This unusual arrangement highlighted the regime's occasional willingness to make pragmatic exceptions to its racial policies when dealing with internationally renowned cultural figures. The protection ultimately proved temporary. In spring 1937, Blech was first "placed on leave" and then dismissed, officially "due to age." He relocated to Riga, Latvia, where he conducted at the Latvian National Opera and Ballet Theatre. This move provided temporary refuge, as Latvia remained independent until the Soviet occupation in 1940, followed by the Nazi invasion in 1941.

("Leo Blech: A Conductor's Survival in Nazi Germany")

# data[].attributes.body
Austro-Hungarian composer Franz Lehár is famous for his operetta Die lustige Witwe (The Merry Widow), one of the most beloved and long-lasting works in its genre. Hitler referred to the operetta as ‘the equal of the finest opera,’ and it is rumoured to be the only piece of music the dictator would play during the last two years of the war. Lehár and his operetta remain untarnished by their association with Hitler, largely because the composer kept a low profile during the war and died shortly afterwards. The Merry Widow is still popular worldwide. After the war Lehár maintained a low profile. ‘My conscience is clear,’ he said, ‘my Merry Widow was Hitler’s favourite operetta. That’s not my fault.’ The extent to which Lehár enjoyed the associated with Hitler is unclear. He was apolitical and it is unlikely that he was antisemitic. Nevertheless, he benefitted financially from performances of The Merry Widow in the Third Reich and did not choose to leave the country, despite his wife’s dangerous situation. Lehár died in Bad Ischl, near Salzburg, in 1948.

("Franz Lehár (1870-1948) and the merry widow")

# data[].attributes.body
An artistic depiction of the subculture from an exhibition at the Humboldt Forum.

("Swingjugend")

# data[].attributes.headline
Charlie & his Orchestra, St. Louis Blues. German propaganda Swing. Berlin 1941

# data[].attributes.subject
Charlie & his Orchestra, St. Louis Blues. German propaganda Swing. Berlin 1941

# data[].attributes.body
(danishjazz)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Charlie & his Orchestra, St. Louis Blues. German propaganda Swing. Berlin 1941

# data[].attributes.body
Hitler referred to the operetta as ‘the equal of the finest opera.’

After the war Lehár maintained a low profile. ‘My conscience is clear,’ he said, ‘my Merry Widow was Hitler’s favourite operetta. That’s not my fault.’

("Franz Lehár (1870-1948) and the merry widow")

Eric Vogel recounted his escape for Downbeat, an American jazz magazine: “This is a story of horror, terror, and death but also of joy and pleasure, the history of a jazz band whose members were doomed to die.”

(Petrusich)

# data[].attributes.body
In addition to the polite external appearance of the Swingjugend which accompanied a cool and laid-back demeanor based on Anglo-American clothing and lifestyle, the Nazis were affronted above all else by their liberal attitude towards life.  Because the Swingjugend hardly bothered about curfews, bans on dancing, or the ban on listening on so-called 'enemy radio stations' once the war began, they got into further conflicts with the Nazi state.  Added to this, the Swingjugend began to express their oppositional stance more and more explicitly.  This ranged from their mockery of the Nazi movement through provocative actions and violent confrontations, to their refusal of compulsory membership of the Hitlerjugend (HJ, or Hitler Youth) and of the Bund Deutscher Mädel (BDM, or League of German Girls) or of military service in the army.  However, commitment to jazz led to their discrimination, isolation, and, finally, criminalization, only when it occurred in connection with non-musical reasons for oppression (alleged moral waywardness, rejection of service in the HJ or BDM, being of the Jewish faith, etc.).  Such acts resulted in swing enthusiasts having to suffer all kinds of sanctions and acts of reprisals.  But the fight against the Swingjugend was hampered by the fact that the Nazi state had no nationwide agreed-upon means of dealing with them.   Also, in the Swingjugend the Nazis were not confronting a unified organization, but loosely organized, informal peer-groups of friends.

("Swing Kids Behind Barbed Wire")

# data[].attributes.body
The Kille Dillers, in 1940.

(Petrusich)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
The Jewish Trumpeter Who Entertained Nazis to Survive the ...

# data[].attributes.body
In 1961, sixteen years after Eric Vogel leaped from a transport train headed toward the Nazi concentration camp at Dachau, he recounted his escape for Downbeat, an American jazz magazine: “This is a story of horror, terror, and death but also of joy and pleasure, the history of a jazz band whose members were doomed to die.” English wasn’t Vogel’s first language—he was born in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, in 1896—but it’s hard to imagine a more gripping opening line. Downbeat ran his story in three parts, each with the title “Jazz in a Nazi Concentration Camp.”

(Petrusich)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
The Jewish Trumpeter Who Entertained Nazis to Survive the ...