Jules Sylvain, a name that once resonated with the familiar melodies of Swedish popular music, is gradually fading from public memory, much like the artists he composed for – Zarah Leander, Ulla Billquist, Karl Gerhard, and Hilmer Borgeling. While some may still recognize tunes like ”Anna, du kan väl stanna” or ”Tangokavaljeren,” and perhaps even the iconic ”Med en enkel tulipan,” few are aware of Sylvain’s authorship. Even fewer connect him to the widely recognized SF-fanfare and the Svensktoppen signature tune. Two recent publications, however, aim to resurrect Sylvain’s legacy: Lasse Zackrisson’s meticulous discography ”Säg det i toner” and Ove Säverman’s comprehensive biography ”En inte fullt så enkel tulipan – Schlagerbögen i folkhemmet,” together offering a deep dive into the life and work of this prolific composer.
Zackrisson’s discography is a monumental undertaking, meticulously cataloging the vast majority of Sylvain’s recorded works, complete with references to streaming services and CD releases. It’s a resource best enjoyed alongside a music player, allowing readers to instantly experience the music referenced. This compilation serves as a vital act of cultural preservation, providing access to a rich musical history. Säverman’s biography, on the other hand, provides a compelling narrative of Sylvain’s life, offering a fascinating glimpse into the man behind the music. It is in this biographical exploration that the true intrigue lies, revealing a life as vibrant and multifaceted as the melodies Sylvain created.
Born Stig Hansson, the aspiring composer adopted the pseudonym Jules Sylvain at the behest of the influential entertainer Ernst Rolf. Driven by ambition and a desire for international recognition, the young Hansson embraced a name that projected a worldly air. His life would indeed prove to be one of constant movement and reinvention, eventually taking him to remote corners of the globe. But before his international wanderings, Sylvain would leave an indelible mark on the Swedish music scene of the interwar period.
The 1920s, a time often romanticized as carefree, was a period of intense creative activity for Sylvain. Stockholm’s vibrant revue scene demanded a constant supply of catchy tunes, and Sylvain rose to the challenge, seemingly producing hits effortlessly. Anecdotes depict a whirlwind of impromptu collaborations, last-minute compositions, and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of melodic inspiration. While these stories suggest a lighthearted approach to music-making, the reality was one of relentless work. Sylvain was a tireless composer and conductor, constantly juggling multiple projects. His personal life remained largely unattached, with fleeting romances mirroring the rapid pace of his creative output. His existence revolved around conceiving, realizing, and then quickly moving on to the next idea, a perpetual cycle of creative restlessness.
Sylvain’s involvement in film began with the advent of sound in cinema. Recognizing the potential of this new medium, he strategically positioned himself within the burgeoning film industry at Svensk Filmindustri (SF). His foresight paid off when he was commissioned to compose the music for SF’s first sound film, ”Säg det i toner,” in 1929, further solidifying his position as a leading figure in Swedish entertainment. Despite his success, Sylvain remained restless, feeling stifled by the confines of Sweden. Driven by a combination of financial pressures, a distaste for conformity, and a yearning for greater acceptance, he sought refuge abroad. Before the outbreak of World War II, he spent time in Vienna, where he met Hans Monath, a younger man whom he rescued from the looming threat of Nazi persecution. Monath would become a lifelong companion and, formally, Sylvain’s adopted son, accompanying him on his subsequent global adventures.
Following the war, Sylvain’s life became a pattern of seeking and abandoning paradises. He would settle in a new locale – Fiji, Mallorca, the Canary Islands, Gambia – only to quickly grow disillusioned and move on. Telegram messages to friends in Sweden chronicled this cycle of euphoria and despair, reflecting his perpetual search for an elusive ideal. Despite his nomadic existence, Sylvain experienced a resurgence in popularity in the late 1950s. Residing in Mallorca, he capitalized on the burgeoning Swedish tourism industry, welcoming visitors to his home and basking in the renewed appreciation for his music. Yet, true to form, he eventually fell out with the local community and moved on once more, finally landing in the unlikely setting of a Swedish labor movement resort in Tuscany, where he died of a heart attack in 1968.
Sylvain’s legacy extends beyond his vast musical catalog. A television tribute to his music six months after his death inadvertently played a role in the formation of ABBA, as Björn Ulvaeus and Agnetha Fältskog became a couple during the filming. ABBA’s music, while influenced by Anglo-Saxon pop, also drew heavily from the Swedish melodic tradition that Sylvain helped define. Benny Andersson, a member of ABBA, is one of the patrons who supported the publication of the recent books on Sylvain, underscoring the enduring influence of this often-forgotten composer. Sylvain’s story, meticulously pieced together by Ove Säverman, is a testament to a complex and restless individual who lived life on his own terms. It’s a tale of both triumph and turmoil, of a man driven by an insatiable creative energy and a perpetual yearning for something just beyond the horizon. The recent publications dedicated to his life and work serve as a vital reminder of his significant contribution to Swedish musical history, ensuring that the melodies of Jules Sylvain continue to resonate for generations to come.
