Jew Heiress Kate Rothschild & her Hip Hop Nigger Boyfriend Jay Electronica

[Frank White]

Heiress Kate Rothschild and Jay Electronica

The cultural riches of Paris can conjure up all sorts of dilemmas. Where to begin? The Louvre or the Musee d’Orsay? The Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe?
Yet when Jay Electronica visited the City of Light earlier this month, he pulled out his smartphone and got straight to the point.
‘Dear Paris, who has trees?’ tweeted the self-proclaimed rap poet. Swiftly deleted, the message was nevertheless seen by his 116,500 fans, so one can only assume the mission was accomplished.
‘Trees’, for those not au fait with U.S. street slang, is code for marijuana.

And Jay Electronica, for those less than familiar with much-hyped but rarely heard hip-hop artists, is the grand amour of Kate Rothschild, the beautiful heiress of the famous banking family, whose father left £18 million to his wife and daughters.

It was their relationship that led to the collapse of her marriage to Ben Goldsmith. The break-up of scions of two of the wealthiest families in Britain was played out in spectacularly public fashion on Twitter.
Now, with the dust settled and the decree nisi granted, rumours are gathering pace in the salons of London society that Kate is preparing for another wedding.
But how suitable for a Rothschild heiress is 36-year-old Electronica, who grew up in one of the most notorious crime-ridden ghettoes of New Orleans? If alarm bells are set ringing by his penchant for ‘trees’, investigation only serves to heighten those concerns.
In this country, he is establishing himself as high society’s rapper of choice.

Ended in tears: Ben Goldsmith and Kate divorced in April after ten years of marriage

Only last month, he was sipping champagne at a barn dance on a Guinness family estate in Wiltshire, rubbing shoulders (in his Nike jumper and T-shirt) with the likes of Eliza Cummings, the model girlfriend of financier Nat Rothschild, and dozens more aristocratic socialites.

To his new Barbour-clad crew, Jay - real name Timothy Elpadaro Thedford - is the definition of cool: one of the most elusive and mysterious men in hip-hop has pitched his tent in their midst.
The fact that such a prominent figure as Kate Rothschild patently adores him, and hangs on his every word, simply serves to reinforce that impression.

The view across the pond, however, is one of wry amusement at the sheer brass neck of the man. Among those who have heard of him, that is.
For while the Rothschild connection has afforded him a certain profile in this country, in truth he remains all but anonymous in his homeland.

Self-proclaimed musical genius: Electronica has signed to the record label owned by Jay-Z but is yet to release an album

Indeed, despite signing in a blaze of publicity for the Roc Nation label owned by Jay-Z - the biggest rap star in America - nearly three years ago, he is yet to release an album.

Martin Spasov, the New York-based music industry commentator, describes him as ‘at the very least, a self-promotion genius’.

‘When was the last time a rapper became so popular based on so little? I’m willing to bet Jay Electronica was never going to release an album in the first place, even without the interference of Ms Rothschild.’

Other critics put it even more bluntly, suggesting that Mr Electronica is content to stay in London because there he faces fewer questions about his status as a credible artist.

It’s true that Jay is not your average champagne-glugging, bling-wearing rap star. His work so far consists of cerebral ramblings on the meaning of life.
But in music circles, the man once hailed by the hip-hop cognoscenti as the Next Big Thing has rather fallen from favour.

The long-awaited record has signally failed to materialise, despite an announcement more than 12 months ago that it was ready for release.
His only artistic outings have come as a cameo act on other performers’ records and guest slots at festivals, all set up through the munificence of his wealthy mentor and benefactor, Jay-Z. And yet he has continued to live in luxurious circumstances, shuttling between spacious apartments in Belgravia and Kensington while he squires multi-millionaire Kate.

There is concern about the relationship among her friends, who were deeply shocked by the implosion of her nine-year marriage last year.
Ben, son of the late billionaire Sir James Goldsmith and Lady Annabel, and brother of MP Zac and journalist Jemima Khan, married Kate, daughter of the late Amschel Rothschild and Anita Patience Guinness, in 2003.

Last May, however, the dream turned sour when Ben allegedly found illicit text messages on his wife’s phone, revealing she was having an affair with Jay.
A furious row ensued, during which Ben is alleged to have slapped Kate and kicked a toy at her. He accepted a police caution, which was followed by an unseemly row on Twitter.

Kate announced to the world that Jay, whose career she manages, ‘saved my life in many ways and I am eternally grateful to him’. Jay moved from his Belgravia home to an apartment in Kensington, so he could be even closer to Kate.

Friends, however, remain concerned about her, describing her as a ‘sucker for romance’ and still bearing the scars - and emotional fragility - prompted by her father’s suicide in 1996, when she was 14.
Her relationship with Jay has not been plain sailing. Last year, the couple were understood to have argued over his closeness to the supermodel du jour Cara Delevingne.
His artistic temperament, meanwhile, has led to prolonged absences, which has put a strain on Kate, whose priority remains looking after her three young children.

It was in this context that she posted a mysterious tweet - ‘Deep down he’s shallow’ - which was interpreted by many (Ben included) as a swipe at her former husband.

Others believe it was a poke at the never knowingly humble attitude of her American lover, amid growing concern that this is a one-sided relationship.
Up until recently, Jay could point to the formalities of Kate’s divorce as a reason for reticence. No longer.
Last month the divorce was granted, with the papers stating ‘she has admitted committing adultery’ and that Ben found it ‘intolerable’ to live with her.
While Jay Electronica was not named in the court documents, he and Kate have openly admitted their relationship. Just at the point where they can move things on to a more public footing, however, the rapper finds himself called back to the U.S. After years of indulgence by his record company pay- masters, the pressure is on to produce some tangible results.

Meanwhile, Kate and Ben have built bridges since filing for divorce. Indeed, she still lives in her former husband’s multi-million-pound house in Kensington with their children.

But while Kate was spending Christmas with them at the Goldsmith family home in Somerset, Jay was on the other side of the Atlantic blowing a gasket.
In a rant on Twitter, which he admitted was fuelled by Jack Daniels (and ‘trees’), he attacked a host of his rap rivals before going quiet and later deleting the messages.

However, the day will come when record boss Jay-Z calls in his debt and Electronica has to face the music.
‘No matter what he’s saying to Kate, he belongs to Jay-Z,’ was the blunt assessment of a record company source this week. ‘There’s a contract. There’s a debt. Everything else is secondary.’
All of which sounds like a worry for the besotted Kate. But if there were any doubt about her long-term intentions, she gave a clue in a posting on Twitter.

Referring to the animated blockbuster Up, about a husband’s devotion to his wife, she said: ‘If I ever get married again, I vow to make sure it lasts till the end of my days ... like in Up.’

The question fascinating many in society is whether, if she were to wed again, would it be to an American rapper - and if so, how long it would last?


Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/ar...#ixzz2UAJLs3WE

[Frank White]

In 1955 Charlie Parker died on a sofa in Pannonica's Fifth Avenue home
27 years later Thelonious Monk died after secluding himself for years in her New Jersey house.

IF the mysterious Baroness Pannonica de Koenigswarter is at all remembered today, it is for her proximity to the deaths of two legendary jazz musicians. In 1955 Charlie Parker died on a sofa in her Fifth Avenue home; 27 years later Thelonious Monk died after secluding himself for years in her New Jersey house.

Both deaths made the baroness an immediate target of tabloid headlines and a long-term subject for scurrilous gossip. Almost no one, though, beyond the insular jazz world, could possibly know her whole story: how, until her death in 1988, she championed jazz as both a friend and a generous, if rather unlikely, benefactor.

A Rothschild heiress, she offered her home to countless jazzmen as a place to work and even live, while quietly paying their bills when they couldn’t find work. She chauffeured them to gigs around New York, toured with them as a kind of racial chaperon, and was even known to confront anyone she felt was taking advantage of her friends because they were black.

“I always likened her to the great royal patrons of Mozart or Wagner’s day,” the saxophonist Sonny Rollins said in a telephone interview. “Yet she never put the spotlight on herself. I try not to talk publicly about people I knew in jazz. But I have to say something about the baroness. She really loved our music.”

The baroness first materialized in New York jazz clubs in the early 1950s like some film noir siren, right down to the raven hair and long cigarette holder. She seduced the music’s greatest figures with her friendship, the revolutionists of the bebop era: Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk and many others. Her illustrious family has long refused to discuss her. But now a new book, “Three Wishes: An Intimate Look at Jazz Greats” (Abrams Image), offers a window into her personal life, providing details even her jazz intimates were probably unaware of.

The book is primarily a collection of candid photographs of the musicians taken by the baroness, and a compilation of their varied responses to a favorite question: “What are your three wishes?” On Oct. 30 an exhibition of her original notebooks collecting these snapshots and wish lists will open at the Gallery at Hermès in New York.

“Three Wishes” arrives with the implicit sanction of the Rothschild family, including a six-page introduction by a granddaughter, Nadine de Koenigswarter. The book offers more concrete information about the baroness than has ever before appeared between covers. But the source of her extraordinarily deep bond with jazz musicians remains elusive.

She was born, her granddaughter writes, in London on Dec. 10, 1913. Her full name was Kathleen Annie Pannonica Rothschild, according to her 1935 wedding announcement in The New York Times. She was the granddaughter of Nathan Mayer, the first Lord Rothschild, and the great-granddaughter of Mayer Amschel, the Rothschild patriarch who, from the Frankfurt ghetto, orchestrated his family’s rise. Her father was Nathaniel Charles Rothschild, a partner in the family bank, whose greater passion was entomology, a hobby at which he was both gifted and exceedingly accomplished. According to a great-niece, Hannah Rothschild, who is completing a documentary about her for the BBC, the baroness’s father was plagued by clinical depression that sometimes led the family to hospitalize him. He killed himself in 1923, at 46.

Nica Rothschild, as she was known, became an aviation enthusiast and an accomplished pilot. At 21 she met a kindred spirit at Le Touquet airfield in France. Baron Jules de Koenigswarter, 31, was a French mining engineer, banker and pilot. He was also a widower with a young son, and like Nica, he was Jewish. The baron quickly proposed after just three months; her response was flight to New York. They were married at City Hall in October 1935.

The couple took up residence in Abondant, a 17th-century chateau not far from Normandy. Their first-born child, Patrick de Koenigswarter, recalled in May in an interview published in The National, an Abu Dhabi newspaper, that when the Nazis invaded France, the baron, a lieutenant in the reserves, was called up. His father “left my mother a map, with instructions: If the Germans get to this point, take the children and escape any way you can to your family in England.” Shortly thereafter, his mother did, accompanied by a nanny and a maid, on what proved to be the last train out of Paris. The baron’s mother dismissed her son’s entreaties and instructions. She died at Auschwitz.

The baron joined de Gaulle’s Free French forces and was assigned to the Congo. At his instigation his wife next moved their two children to the United States, placing Patrick de Koenigswarter and his younger sister, Janka, with the Guggenheim family on Long Island. The baroness then somehow rejoined her husband in Africa with the Free French, serving in various capacities including ambulance driver and ending the war as a decorated lieutenant.

One little-known wartime detail lends a different sense to her later arrival in the New York jazz world. Her husband’s extended family, as well as her Hungarian-born mother’s, were nearly all killed in the Holocaust. The baroness’s adoption of New York’s predominantly black jazz family in the war’s aftermath thus seems less the act of a louche dilettante than of a survivor bent on resurrection and rebirth.

“I believe that she could no longer live in any ivory tower after what she saw in the war,” Hannah Rothschild said in a telephone interview. “Privilege offered no protection. The fate of her own mother-in-law proved that. She had experienced the very depths of prejudice herself firsthand.”

The baron entered the French diplomatic service after the war, settling his wife and children first in Norway and then in Mexico. “My father was a very controlling person,” Patrick de Koenigswarter said. “He was adamant about punctuality, while Nica was notorious for being late. She missed appointments, sometimes by days.” He continued, “It didn’t help that my father had no particular interest in the subjects that fascinated her: art and music.”

The baroness always credited her brother, Victor, a jazz fan and amateur pianist who studied with Art Tatum and Teddy Wilson, with introducing her to jazz. Shortly before her death, though, she revealed in a rare interview for the Monk documentary "Straight, No Chaser" the moment when her interest in jazz music escalated into something more.

“I was in the throes of the diplomatic life in Mexico,” she remembered of the years 1949 to 1952, “and I had a friend who got hold of records for me. I used to go to his pad to hear them. I couldn’t have listened to them in my own house, with that atmosphere. I heard them and really got the message. I belonged where that music was. This was something I was supposed to be involved in in some way. It wasn’t long afterwards that I cut out.”

It is well known in jazz circles that the great project of the baroness’s life was the torturously unstable Monk, whom she served as a surrogate wife right alongside Monk’s equally devoted actual wife, Nellie. The baroness paid Monk’s bills, dragged him to an endless array of doctors, put him and his family up in her own home and, when necessary, helped Nellie institutionalize him. In 1958 Monk and the baroness were stopped by the police in Delaware. When a small amount of marijuana was discovered, she took the rap for her friend and even served a few nights in jail.

People have always asked why. What drew her to him so intensely? Was it sex, drugs or groupie-esque infatuation? Clearly her steadfast devotion to Monk’s music propelled their relationship, which both maintained was platonic. In light of her father’s history, though, it seems possible that the underlying bond was love and childhood loss. In Monk, she may have been drawn to the same anguished brilliance that had consumed her father, whom she could not save.

The introduction to “Three Wishes” still leaves unanswered many questions that pursued the baroness throughout her life. Did she abandon her children in her headlong embrace of the jazz life, or were they taken from her? Did she enable addiction in the musicians she loved? Did she buy them drugs? Did she use drugs herself?

These questions once loomed large in her mystique. As her back story deepens, however, their sense of enormity recedes. The baron divorced his wife in 1956 after the scandalous publicity surrounding Charlie Parker’s death in her home. Shaun de Koenigswarter, the couple’s youngest son, recently confirmed that the baron also got custody of the three younger children, Berit (born in 1946), Kari (1950) and himself (1948). “I am the only child who never lived with my mother after she settled in New York in 1953,” he said in an e-mail message, adding that his four siblings lived with her during different periods.

That the baroness in fact lost custody of her three youngest children as a consequence of her love of jazz further illuminates the maternal quality of her presence on the scene. Is it any wonder that she clung to her musicians like family?

“She realized that jazz needed any kind of help it could get,” Mr. Rollins said, “especially the musicians. She was monetarily helpful to a lot who were struggling. But more than that, she was with us. By being with the baroness, we could go places and feel like human beings. It certainly made us feel good. I don’t know how you could measure it. But it was a palpable thing. I think she was a heroic woman.”

It has taken the actual family she left behind a long time to arrive at a similar conclusion. “Not all members of our family were enthused about the life she chose to lead (especially our father!),” Shaun de Koenigswarter wrote. “But over the years, many of those who had initially disapproved — particularly in light of the many viciously biased and racist press reports about her — came to understand and appreciate what she was all about.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/19/ar...zW3Klv5vkslLnA

[Watson503]

What a disgusting, coal-burning jewess... We all know how these "relationships" tend to end up, hopefully this one ends as violent with the pet goodifying itself as well.