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Lotte: The Older Sister

Lotte was born January 30, 1938. Margrit says that their father was very proud of Lotte’s gifts: “He even bought the piano. She went to the music school in Schaffhausen, and the teacher always praised how well she played. She gave her first performance when she was eight years old—our father was very proud. He wasn’t around long enough for Irène to have much time with him, which is a pity. But he was fiercely supportive of Lotte.” Later, Lotte underwent psychiatric treatment repeatedly, and “was in the psychiatric clinic for a relatively long time on two or three occasions. She just couldn’t adapt to life. She didn’t try anything new; she was no longer interested in anything, really. Quite different from Irène—I’ve always admired that about her, she has so many interests, political, musical, she loves to visit museums. Lotte didn’t do any of that. She withdrew completely and lived entirely alone. And she hardly played piano anymore. She had a job, and she played at home or for her girlfriend, when she came over. Or when there was a party she was often asked to play, and she always did. At some point, everything became too much for her. She reduced her working hours, first from 100 % to 80 %, and later less than that. In fact, Lotte could play anything on the piano, it was incredible, she was really talented, particularly with Chopin. But she was never able to make anything of her gifts. Sometimes with Irène as well I get the feeling that she doesn’t like to be alone; luckily she now has such a dear partner. I’m really happy that she has someone. Because she’s not a simple person, who would be able to live happily by herself.”

When she was a child, Schweizer was given a concertina. “I took some lessons, and later I was a member of the Schaffhausen concertina club. We often rehearsed together, and played folk songs and hits from sheet music. Later, my parents bought a full-size accordion. That didn’t work, it was much too large for me, I didn’t like it. I stuck it in the corner and changed over to my sister’s piano in the living room. Lotte had piano lessons for years and played classical piano very well. She had private instruction, but she never wanted to become a teacher.”

Margrit: The Younger Sister

Schweizer’s younger sister, Margrit Schlatter, was born September 30, 1942 in Schaffhausen. She worked as a pharmacist. “I’m married and we have a son. And I was working, we had our own business, and for 20 years I didn’t have much time to spend with my sisters. But now we are in contact more often, and I like that.”

Odette: Server as Second Mother

Odette, the server in the Landhaus, played an important role in the Schweizer household. Schweizer relates that she was very involved in taking care of the children: “she knitted things for us and took us to the Rhine Falls, or even to Zürich when she had the time. She devoted a lot of attention to us; she was my second mother. Odette always had one free day a week, while my mother never had a day off, because the restaurant was always open, every day.” Odette’s father was French, “and she spoke perfect French. She grew up in the canton of Bern, and her father was a language teacher in Schaffhausen; her mother had passed away. From my point of view, her father was already ancient; he might have been 60 or 70, but to me he seemed like an old man. Odette was around 30 when we were children. She was a very beautiful young woman.”

Margrit remembers: “During the war, our father was sometimes away for a few weeks for national defense. Of course, our mother was then incredibly burdened. I don’t think we ever really did anything with our father, he never had time. Odette was very busy taking care of the guests, she was very fast and she had the reputation in town of providing really good service. The primary school and secondary school were only five minutes away, and the canton school was also close by. Odette’s father had a language school at the top of Herrenacker Street, near the city theater. It was a beautiful old house with a schoolroom and a small apartment. Odette was our second mother, sometimes she went swimming with us, or went along with us wherever we children wanted to go. She watched over us closely. She was involved in our upbringing, but you could say that we took care of ourselves and brought each other up to some extent. We were very much left to ourselves.”

The Piano in the Festival Hall: I Had no Idea

In the Landhaus there were three pianos: in the hall, in the small sitting room, and in the apartment on the upper floor. Margrit remembers that first Lotte took classical piano lessons, “and then Irène started to play concertina. But she suddenly changed to the piano; she didn’t want to have anything more to do with the concertina. And after that she played piano, but of course it wasn’t in a classical direction, it was jazz. From the beginning. She also had piano lessons for a little while, but after that she was completely self-taught. The piano was a bond between Lotte and Irène, of course. For our mother, how should I say it, this was always a crazy world. She never really understood it, probably because she was born in a time when there was absolutely no jazz in Switzerland. She liked Johann Strauss, operettas, that kind of thing. She thought jazz was awful, she never understood it. Besides classical music, Lotte also played piano in her friend’s Dixieland band. At the beginning, Irène also played boogie-woogie and ragtime, but the band was very well-behaved, I never saw anything wild.”

Once a week, Schweizer took piano lessons from a young teacher, Erwin Schnell. She remembers: “he had some sheet music of pieces by Dave Brubeck and Gerry Mulligan, he was actually quite open-minded. I studied Bach with him, but I always had a hard time reading music. I really just wanted to play jazz.” The money for the piano lessons wasn’t a problem for their mother: “We just had to want to do it. Until I was finished with school I had piano lessons once a week, and then later in the French-speaking part of Switzerland too, and in England all I did was rehearse with musicians. I practiced a lot and worked out for myself how the chords went. Sometimes saxophonist Rolf Oechslin, who knew the chord changes to all the tunes, wrote some things down. Later he worked as a teacher near Schaffhausen.” From a young age, she always watched the hands of the pianist in the festival hall, “looking to see what he was doing, how he played. At that time I still had no idea at all about jazz or notes; I didn’t know anything. I always listened carefully, that was the beginning, and later when I heard music, I was very attentive to who was doing what. I was also fascinated with drummers—for many years I played drums, self-taught. I learned the most when I was living in London. Back then you still couldn’t get the Real Book, which has melodies and chord symbols for all the important jazz pieces, to play from, and anyway reading music was frowned upon. So I always wanted to learn everything by ear. And I always paid close attention to the musicians’ stage presence and how they acted when they played.”

World War II: In the Air Raid Shelter

Sometimes Margrit has the feeling that her sister Irène “can’t really remember anything, or doesn’t want to. Her childhood and youth seem to have bounced off her. She really doesn’t remember anything. Schaffhausen was the city in Switzerland that was the most affected by the war. Sometimes she’ll talk about how she was outside on her tricycle when the bombs came, and was quickly taken into the air raid shelter. She remembers that, but that’s it.”

Schweizer says that on the day when the Schaffhausen train station was bombed, all the windows in the Landhaus burst, “and we had to go into the air raid shelter every time a bomb fell. Schaffhausen was being bombed by the Americans—they thought it was Germany because it was so close to the border. My father was a private, an ordinary soldier, and he often had to go perform service. So my mother was often alone during the war.”

On March 28, 2014, in a piece called “When the Americans Bombed Schaffhausen,” the Swiss television channel SRF reported on the bombing of Schaffhausen on April 1, 1944. Schweizer was two and a half years old:

On April 1st, the bells will ring in the town of Schaffhausen. On this day exactly 70 years ago, this border town on the Rhine was attacked by the US Air Force. Around 400 bombs left behind a devastated city. This was during the Second World War. Switzerland—surrounded by warring countries—sought to preserve its neutrality and sovereignty without offending any of the countries at war. But, on April 1, 1944, one and a half years before the end of the war, Switzerland was caught between the fronts. At 10:58 AM, the US Air Force dropped 371 bombs over Schaffhausen. The bombing lasted 40 seconds. After it was over, 37 people were dead, hundreds injured, over 300 homeless, even more without food and desperate. Was the USA punishing Switzerland for supplying industrial goods to Nazi Germany from SIG Neuhausen in Schaffhausen? The official explanation is: no, Schaffhausen was the victim of a navigational error on the part of the US Air Force. The bomb squadron, departing from Great Britain, was supposed to attack the German town Ludwigshafen. Historian Matthias Wipf, who lives in Schaffhausen, is also convinced that the US pilots made an error: ‘The mission was a total disaster,’ says Wipf in Schweiz aktuell. ‘The US Air Force pilots got lost after setting out via England and France. Radar technology was new at the time, and in this case it stopped working,’ says Wipf. ‘The pilots had no idea where they were.’ Tragically, fifteen aircraft then bombed Schaffhausen. It is known that during the Second World War the air raid alarm sounded more than 500 times in Schaffhausen. Usually nothing happened, and the people got used to it. When the alarm went off again on April 1, 1944 at 11 o’clock in the morning, many Schaffhausen residents did not seek cover in the air-raid shelters. Instead, they ran out onto the street to see where the planes were. ‘It was almost considered an entertaining spectacle,’ says Wipf. He estimates that the number of deaths could have been a third less if the people had sought cover. The US President at the time, Franklin D. Roosevelt, later apologized to the population of Schaffhausen for the erroneous bombing. The US paid the city 40 million Swiss francs in compensation.

Children’s Room: She’d Rather Be on the Scooter

In the spacious apartment in the upper floor of the inn, Schweizer shared a room with her younger sister. Margrit remembers: “I played like other children, but we hardly ever played together. Irène didn’t play with dolls or with children’s toys. At most, she’d play outside with friends, riding a scooter or bicycle. Of course, we played jass [a popular card game in Switzerland]; almost everyone plays that here. And Irène still likes to play that game, and Monopoly, she liked that kind of game. But she never really played with toys, not even as a small child. Lotte was five years older than me. She had dolls, but she also never really played like a child. She was always pretty serious.” Unlike Margrit, who sometimes waited tables in her free time, Irène never really enjoyed helping in the restaurant, says Margrit. “She didn’t like the world of the restaurant at all.”

Rhine: Rhybadi

Like their father, according to Margrit, Irène felt very at home in the water. Even in their looks, she sees great similarities between Irène and their father, “especially around the eyes. Her personality is also very similar to our father’s. In the summer, we went to the Rhine public swimming pool, the Rhybadi, almost every day. My father liked that. He often went swimming after cooking. He really enjoyed the water. He taught our sister Lotte to swim. There was a kind of belt, a rope, you could tie it around yourself, and then you could walk above, and below she would swim, and he was walking, and at some point he just dropped the rope and said, ‘now you can swim.’ In the Rhybadi you can see fish when the river is calm. In the early part of the year, when the snow melts in the mountains, a lot of water comes down, and then the river is fast and wild. But in the summer it’s quite calm. Outside Schaffhausen, there was a meadow, the Spitzwiese. We went ice skating there in the winter; we had blades that you could tie to your shoes.”

1951, Father’s Death: “Closed Today Due to a Death in the Family”

On Tuesday, February 27, 1951, the Landhaus restaurant in Schaffhausen was closed for the day due to a death in the family: Irène Schweizer’s father died unexpectedly at the age of 49. Irène was nine years old. On February 23, the Schaffhausen newspaper reported:

It is with great sorrow that we inform our relatives, friends, and acquaintances that our dear, unforgettable husband, son, father, brother, brother-in-law, and uncle, Karl Schweizer, chef and innkeeper of the Landhaus in Schaffhausen, was taken from us this morning at 10:00. He died unexpectedly of a heart attack at the age of 49. We ask you to keep the memory of our dear Karl in your thoughts and in your hearts. In deep mourning: his wife, Frieda Schweizer; mother, ­Hermione Schweizer-Surbeck; children, Lotti, Irène, and Margrit; brother, Alfred Schweizer and family, Wallisellen, and other relatives. The funeral service will take place on Tuesday, February 27, 1951, at 1:30 PM at the Waldfriedhof in Schaffhausen.

The Agricultural Association of the canton of Schaffhausen wrote: “For fifteen years, he put all of his energy into the service of the job he had taken on, and he successfully developed his business. We will always remember him with gratitude and honor.” The Schaffhausen men’s choir wrote in their obituary: “It is our sad duty to report the sudden departure of our dear member Karl Schweizer, innkeeper at the Landhaus. The memorial service will take place on Tuesday, February 27, at 1:30 PM in the Waldfriedhof. We hope that as many singers as possible will give our dear departed colleague his funeral cortege. Meeting at 1:15 in the Waldfriedhof.”

The Innkeepers’ Association of the canton of Schaffhausen also paid their respects: “With great sorrow, we inform our colleagues of the departure of our esteemed actuary and colleague Karl Schweizer, chef of the restaurant at the Landhaus in Schaffhausen. Our friend Karl was taken suddenly by a heart attack. We offer our deepest condolences to his widow and children. Our colleague Karl Schweizer is now at rest, but his spirit lives on with us.”

“It was a terrible blow, very sad,” Schweizer remembers. “It was very difficult for my mother. With the help of relatives and some others, she kept the Landhaus going until it was no longer possible.”

Safety and Distance: Her Own World of Music

Margrit recalls that Irène distanced herself at an early age. “I don’t know why she didn’t want to have anything to do with the family for a while. Maybe, as a child, she missed the feeling of security, or that someone had time for her. She just withdrew into music, it really brought her joy.” The experience of lack of parental attention and quality time with the family had a lasting effect on Schweizer. Later, she often said that the career of an improvising musician is incompatible with the decision to become a mother.

School Days: No Shrinking Violet

Schweizer says that she was brought up in the Swiss Reformed tradition: “In school, I had religion classes, and sometimes I went to church on Sundays. My mother was Catholic, but she had a Swiss Reformed wedding, because my father wanted it. But none of us was really religious. In elementary school I was always a good student, but after my father died I didn’t do as well in school, and I failed the secondary school entrance exam. My teacher let me slide, though, because he understood that it was related to my father’s death. In secondary school, girls and boys were separated; we only saw each other during breaks. I had a very good teacher, Ortrud Gehrig. She had a warm personality, she was clever, and even at that time she was emancipated—she was no shrinking violet.” (In: Heinz Nigg, Wir sind wenige, aber wir sind alle [We Are Few, but We Are All], Limmat 2008, pp. 56–66).

“At the young age of 12 I fell in love with my teacher, and later with classmates. But there was no discussion of this then—it was taboo. I already knew at the time that same-sex love existed, and I had read a little about it in gossip magazines. Being gay was stigmatized, and what talk there was, was mostly about gay men; there were no lesbians in these gossip rags. It was painful for me already then. But I knew: I have music, it will get me through, I get so much from it!” (In: Nigg, pp. 56–66).

As a child, Schweizer spent a lot of time listening to the radio. “My favorite was a jazz program that was on Saturday afternoons at five, on the French station in Sottens. By the time I went to secondary school, we had a record player in the restaurant office. My sister and I often listened to Dixieland there.” (In: Nigg, pp. 56–66).

Margrit describes Irène as “pretty quiet. In school she did her homework and was very conscientious and punctual. She was a very good student and didn’t cause any problems. She did an extra year. Eight years of school are obligatory—five years of elementary school and three years of secondary school—but in Schaffhausen, it’s also possible to add a fourth and fifth year. Those are more like vocational training, and after the fourth year she went to Lucens, to a girls’ institute. After that, she attended the Raeber School, a trade school in Zürich. The girls at Lucens were mostly from wealthy families, but my mother thought that would be good for Irène. Probably also because they taught a little home economics, and Irène hated that kind of thing—cooking, cleaning, all that. I don’t think she was unhappy at all in Lucens. She got along well with others there and played piano a lot. In Schaffhausen, in the secondary school, her teacher already noticed that she didn’t like household work. So the teacher told her that she could go play piano in the auditorium. And after that Irène realized she could always find a way to the piano.”

The students went to school on foot, or by bicycle. Everything was close by, says Schweizer: “I probably walked to elementary school, and then rode my bike to secondary school. I was in primary school for five years, and after that I was in the first secondary level. Actually, I should have gone for eight years, but I wanted to take another year because I didn’t know what to do. So all together I was in school for nine years. I didn’t have a plan, I felt much too young to decide on a career, but then my mother sent me to the French-speaking part of the country. After my father’s death, she didn’t have any time for me. All the well-to-do families sent their daughters to French-speaking Switzerland to learn French and home economics. It was a boarding school, all our classes were in French, and there was a lot of emphasis on good behavior. The Swiss have a reputation for knowing languages: Italian, French, German, Swiss German. There was an emphasis on language, because we are a country of languages. We learned French in school, but after school was done, no one could speak French. After that I spent a year in England, because I wanted to learn English more than French anyway.”

Jazz in the Festival Hall: First Contact with Jazz

Every Saturday night there was an event in the festival hall, usually until the early morning hours. “Sometimes our mother woke us up and said, ‘come quickly, something good is happening,’” Schweizer remembers. “Sometimes it was cabaret, or folk theater like Ueli der Knecht, by Jeremias Gotthelf” (In: Nigg, pp. 56–66). But the hall hosted more than meetings, dance, and regional theater. “When I started playing Dixieland with bands in Schaffhausen, at first I played drums. I got in contact with other musicians through Lotte’s boyfriend, who was the pianist in a Dixieland group. They played music on the side; they were all amateurs who rehearsed here in the hall. I always went to listen, and one day I heard a quartet, Four Ones, with four students who had rented the hall. This was on a Saturday afternoon. It was a quartet with saxophone, piano, bass, and drums, and it made me very curious because I’d never heard music like that before. Then I found out that they were playing pieces by the Dave Brubeck Quartet, and that’s how I heard modern jazz for the first time. I was totally fascinated, obsessed. The Four Ones were Werner Bührer, alto saxophone, Stefan Fröhlich, drums, Aldino Corchia, bass—he was a ‘secondo,’ an Italian living in Schaffhausen—and Thomas Amsler, piano. They were students at the cantonal school. Schaffhausen was really in the sticks. At first we played Dixieland mixed with a little bit of modern jazz, so without banjo and with tenor saxophone. We called ourselves the Crazy Stokers. I was the youngest; the others were at most two years older than me. We were very proud when the Schaffhausen newspaper wrote about us. At our performances, I wore a skirt and a blouse and the men wore suits, ties, and white nylon shirts. It was very restrained.”

The Schaffhausen newspaper wrote about Irène Schweizer for the first time on August 17, 1957. She had just turned 16. “Jazz meeting with the Crazy Stokers. Last Saturday, the Landhaus seemed to be the meeting place for all the jazz fans in Schaffhausen. Hundreds of expectant young people filled the hall from the beginning of the concert, and crowds had to be turned away for lack of space. Some had to remain standing, while the rest left. This concert once again demonstrated the great popularity of our local jazz band. These musicians, only 17 and 18 years old, showed astounding gifts and did justice to their name, Crazy Stokers. From the first piece, ‘Pretty Little Missy,’ the group’s signature tune, the crowd was excited, and the band kept them that way the entire evening, judging by the constant bursts of spontaneous applause. Even when experiments took the upper hand over perfected skill, significant movements in the direction of modern jazz could be heard. Connoisseurs took note of, among others, the modern version of ‘Lullaby of Birdland,’ played by the young guest pianist Irène Schweizer in the style of the famous ‘block chord’ pianist Errol Garner.”

Jazz Amateurs: The Crazy Stokers

Since the age of 19, Schweizer has bought and collected jazz records. Her first ones, by Miles Davis and John Coltrane, are still in her collection today. “At the end of the 1950s, Radio Kaiser was selling the first LPs by Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and Thelonious Monk. At first I found Ornette Coleman pretty weird, but I still liked it. And Coltrane’s ‘My Favorite Things.’ I bought that one right away. You could actually buy that in Schaffhausen. Anyway, we bought every important record that came out—at that time there were four or five a year.”

She was never actually interested in attracting a lot of attention with her music. On the contrary: “We earned very little from music. The audience at our concerts in the inn were schoolmates; my whole class from school, they all came to Schaffhausen and listened. They loved it. I couldn’t stand the girls who read Bravo, listened to rock and roll, loved Elvis Presley—I thought all that was awful. For me, Dixieland and modern jazz were what I wanted to play and listen to. Back then people still danced to our music. We played a lot of private parties and there was always dancing. I still remember very clearly the time we had a well-paid gig near Schaffhausen. It was a wedding party and we drove there in a car. But I was so pissed off the entire night that I could hardly play, because it was the Friday—April 8, 1960—when Miles Davis played in the Zürich Kongresshaus with John Coltrane. It almost killed me that I had to play this wedding instead of hearing that. I would’ve loved so much to see the concert in Zürich, it was really a catastrophe.”