Paul Balmer’s first lines on the first chapter of his biography of Stephane Grappelli:
Stephane Grappelli made me smile. I wasn’t alone. In Paris, Bombay or Singapore, seated on the grass at a youth festival or in the plush ruby velvet of Carnegie Hall, toes tapped, heads nodded. He was a little man, slightly comic, and exuded all the innocence of his childhood hero, Charlie Chaplin’s little tramp. Always, this old-fashioned gentleman could reach across the footlights and engage his audience.