Minuet Militaire (S. 1A) (P. D. Q. BACH) Performer: The Greater Hoople Area Off-Season Philharmonic/Walter Bruno 1712 Overture & Other Musical Assaults (Telarc CD 80210)
And now, Schickele Mix. Well, are we ready, Mr. Schickele? We are ready. Here's the theme.
[theme: Mozart, Symphony No. 24]
Hello there, I'm Peter Schickele, and this is Schickele Mix, a program dedicated to the proposition that all musics are created equal. Or as Duke Ellington put it, if it sounds good, it is good. And believe me, it is good to report that our bills are paid by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and by the National Endowment for the Arts with additional support from the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences and from this important radio station where I am provided with the wherewithal to produce what is, after it's been produced, distributed far and wide by PRI, Public Radio International.
And it's time to put on your walking shoes, folks. Here we go again with Marches
[music: Ives, "‘Gyp the Blood’ or Hearst – Which Is Worst?"; Ensemble Modern/Metzmacher]
And today we're going to be talking about the very interesting relationship between the marching field and the concert hall. There's been some hanky-panky going on between those two for several centuries, at least. And a little bit later in the show, we're going to be presenting a lively and infotaining quiz feature that is guaranteed to test your march IQ, to take you to the very edge and perhaps beyond of your march knowledge.
Yes, sir, folks, you'll be racking your march brains and scratching your march head through the march hair that's on it. And who wants a rabbit on his head? Just kidding, folks, it's all part of the good, clean fun that makes Marches on the March the most popular survey of every march ever written on the radio today. Question: can you define march, responding in three words or less? Answer: certainly. That's only one word.
A simple definition might be, music intended to facilitate the coordination of stylized walking by large or small groups of people or other animals. Using that definition, marches have presumably been around for millennia, at the very least. They increased their range to include the rarefied habitat of concert music centuries ago. They probably made their way into the orchestra via opera.
Certainly ever since the birth of the symphony orchestra in the 18th century, composers have been writing marches intended for your ears only, or rather your ears only, not your feet. Here's an excruciatingly brief survey featuring one example each from the 18th, the 19th, and the 20th century. The Inter-Era Symphonic March Suite lasts about six and a half minutes. Okay, shh, the conductor's on the podium. He's about to start the orchestra.
Hut, two, three, four. Hut, two, three, four.
[music: Mozart, "Haffner March"; Royal Philharmonic Orchestra/Beecham]
[music: Bizet, March – “Jeux d’enfants”; Orchestre de Paris/Barenboim]
[music: Prokofiev, March – “The Love for Three Oranges”; Philharmonia Orchestra/Malko]
Inter-Era Symphonic March Suite began with Mozart's Haffner March, played by Beecham and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. Next came Bizet from Jeux d'Enfants, from Children's Games, with the Orchestre de Paris under Barenboim. And finally, the march from Prokofiev's opera, The Love for Three Oranges, and that was Nikolai Malko conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra.
If you think of the Prokofiev as the theme song of a radio show about the FBI, you have just dated yourself. Which, come to think of it, is what Narcissus would have liked to have been able to do. Those were symphonic marches, but definitely marches, not symphonies. The beat was always clear and steady, and the textures and formal divisions were simple and well-defined.
You could march to those pieces quite satisfactorily, although with the Mozart you'd have to march either quite fast or quite slowly. Well, what do you know, it's Tidbit Time already here on the Marching Field of Endeavor. On another installment of Marches on the March, I mentioned that there don't seem to be many popular new marching songs around these days. Songs like Onward Christian Soldiers and Battle Hymn of the Republic.
In spite of the fact that there's a lot of violence around us, we actually live in a comparatively anti-military era, as I'm sure any member of your local VFW will tell you. Judging by our movies, for instance, we like our violence, and the more the better, to be perpetrated by individuals, not armies, whose members have sacrificed their individuality by marching in step and following orders.
Here's a song that was written during the First World War and revised during the Second. We'll hear two versions, the concert version for chorus and orchestra, and then a rendition by the composer himself at the piano. Hang on to your hats.
[music: Ives, "They Are There!"; Baltimore Symphony Orchestra & Chorus/Zinman]
[music: Ives, "They Are There!" (Charles Ives: The 100th Anniversary); Charles Ives, voice and piano, 1943]
Charles Ives. Talk about individualism. He sounds like he's a member of one of those county rights groups.
First we heard David Zinman conducting the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra and Chorus in They Are There, and then we were treated to, or assaulted with, or let in on, or enlightened by a personal rendition by Ives and his piano, recorded in 1943, when the composer was about 69 years old, but obviously still full of kidney effluvia and vinegar. Terrific piece.
I've got to say, though, that my own feelings about Ives are ambivalent. The stuff I like, I really love. But a lot of his music sounds turgid to me, sort of heavy-footed, particularly harmonically, sometimes more obstinate than brave. Tender sometimes, especially in the songs, but rarely sensuous. He was a real New Englander, and quite macho in his own iconoclastic way. I must say, the more I find out about the American musical scene a century ago, The more impressed I am by what he was up against, but I have to admit to agreeing with a statement I heard Elliot Carter make once that he found Ives' music more often interesting than good.
Now, sometimes people have asked me how I could stand living in New York City for so long. Okay, you want to know one of the things I love about New York? Some years back, the arts section of the Sunday Times asked a bunch of well-known musicians to name the composers who are, in their opinion, the most underrated and the most overrated. In my answer for overrated, I mentioned Ives, for the reasons I've given.
The day that article appeared, towards the end of the afternoon, I was crossing a street in Brooklyn, and a man I didn't know from Adam was crossing in the opposite direction. He looked at me, and just before we passed each other, he said, Ives, how could you? Now, I love my hometown of Fargo, North Dakota, but there's nothing like the Apple. You know what I'm saying? That was definitely one of the best things that's ever been said to me. Much better than, Hey, aren't you Peter Schickele, the host of Schickele Mix from PRI, Public Radio International?
Today's show is called From the Marching Field to the Concert Hall in Two Quick and Easy Steps. At least, I think that's what it's called. I was thinking of, instead of in two quick and easy steps, saying in two easy quick steps. You know, because a quick step is a fast march. But somehow, from the marching field to the concert hall, in two easy quick steps. I don't know, it doesn't really register, does it? Well, anyway, the show is called something like that.
And who cares? Because the moment you've all been waiting for has arrived, folks. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, cadets and cadetettes, it's time to play...
[music: "Who Wrote That Thing?" theme; Clowez, "March de la 2e D. B." (Grandes Marches Militaires Françaises); Musique Militaire de Paris/de Foy]
Yes, it's time for you to match your wits against our contestants. Or actually, to match your wits against those of our contestants. You may think you know your classical composers, but do you really?
You know, over the years, many perfectly serious symphonic composers have occasionally written marches for band. Well, we all like to go slumming once in a while. Today, we're going to hear some of those marches and let you and our three contestants see if you can figure out who wrote them. During Tidbit Time, we brought our studio audience in here, and let me tell you, folks, you have been as quiet as a mouse.
I'm talking about a church mouse. And we've got our contestants over there in the isolation booth. That's where they used to put the trap set before the digital drum machines came along. And that's Lester, Doreen, and Sue. And I should probably tell our radio listeners that Sue is a boy. Lester, Doreen, and Sue, give us a wave there so we know you can hear us. All right. Here's how it works, folks.
While we're listening to each march, our contestants will write down the name of the composer who they think wrote it, and at the end of the march, I will turn their sound off and tell you in the studio audience and our radio listeners who the composer was, and then we'll ask Lester, Doreen, and Sue to hold up their pieces of paper. Okay, everybody, ready? I thought so. Here we go with March No. 1.
[music: Beethoven, March in C major ("Marche en ut majeur"); wind players of the Berlin Philharmonic/Priem-Bergrath]
And the name of the composer is Beethoven.
Okay, contestants. Lester, let's see what you wrote. No, it is not Palestrina. Sorry, Lester. Doreen? All right! Ludwig van Beethoven. That is absolutely correct. Congratulations, Doreen. And Sue? Also Palestrina. Too bad. Palestrina wrote some beautiful masses, but he did not write that march.
Yes, that was a march in C major, folks, one of the many pieces that Beethoven wrote for Austrian regimental bands. And that was Hans Priem-Bergrath conducting wind players from the Berlin Philharmonic. And so, Doreen has one point, which means that she has earned one frequent flyer mile on Spruce Goose Airlines, which operates the world's only wooden seaplane and provides the only direct link between Malibu and Santa Monica. We may not get in the air, but we'll get you there. Okay, everybody, here we go with March number two. Watch out, this is a tricky one. In fact, it's worth two points.
[music: E. Wagner, "Die Bosniaken kommen"; Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra/Karajan]
The name of the composer is Wagner. All right, we are ready for round two. Lester, what do you have? Richard Wagner. Wait a minute, folks. Wait a minute. Hold on. Just a second, everybody. Okay. I hate to be a wet blanket here, but I said that this was a tricky one.
That march was by Wagner, all right, but not Richard Wagner. Sorry about that, Lester. That march is called, and I kid you not, folks, Die Bosniaken kommen, which means Here Come the Bosnians. And it was written by E. Wagner, whoever that is. That's all it says on the CD, E. Wagner.
I've looked him or her up in every music dictionary I could find around the station, Grove's, Baker's, Slonimsky, and there is no listing for an E. Wagner who wrote music. But I'll tell you what, Lester, I said that that was a two-pointer. I'll give you one point for getting the last name right, okay? Okay, now, Doreen, what's on your piece of paper? E. Wagner! Doreen! You are cooking with gas here.
I've got to say, Doreen, that is just about incredible. Doreen, I noticed that your pen isn't up there on the top of your podium where it's supposed to be. I guess you forgot to put it up there, huh? Well, I'm in no mood to quibble. Although, Lester looks as if he might be harboring a quibble or two.
Hey, it's only a game, Les. But, okay, it's two more points for Doreen and Sue. Sue, you are one loyal Palestrina fan. Alright, Lester's got one point, Doreen has got three, and Sue, Sue is doing his best to keep Palestrina's name from slipping into the mists of oblivion. It's a secular, secular, secular, secular world, right Sue? And somebody's gotta keep the faith.
That was the noted bandmaster Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Phils again. We are halfway through, folks, and here's March number three. No more tricks like E. Wagner, contestants, but this is a hard one to guess, so let's make it another two-pointer. Take it away, maestro.
The name of the composer is Barber. Okay, hey, that was a pretty funny ending there, wasn't it? Well, Lester, who'd you put your money on? Samuel Barber! That is absolutely correct. What, did you play the Commando March in high school or something? Yeah, I thought so, because it would be pretty hard to guess. But let's see what else we've got here. Doreen? Edward Elgar. No, but a good guess. He certainly crossed my mind.
And how about you, Sue? Johan Sebastian Bach. Well, you're getting warmer, Sue, so hang in there. And let's see, that was a two-pointer, so the score is now Lester 3, Doreen 3, and Sue. By the way, that was Frederick Fennell and the Cleveland Symphonic Winds. All righty then, here comes the last march. And as usual, the last one is from the bonus bin.
That means we give four points for the correct composer, plus two points for the title of the march. This is the marching moment of truth, folks. And here's Joplin! Just kidding, folks! It's not Joplin, and I'll give you another hint. It's not Palestrina, either. Okay, here we go!
[music: Shostakovich, "March of the Soviet Police"; Stockholm Concert Band/Rozhdestvensky]
The name of the composer is Shostakovich, and the title is March of the Soviet Police. Okay, this is it, contestants. As they say at the end of Hamlet, the die is cast, and the cast has died. What do you say, Lester? The College of Cardinals Quick-Step by Palestrina. You weren't listening, Lester. I said it wasn't Palestrina. I'm afraid you threw that one away.
Okay, Doreen, John Philip Sousa, March of the Soviet Police. Well, you got the title right, Doreen, but not the composer. So that makes it three for Lester and five for Doreen. And now it's up to you, Sue. Sue? Dmitri Shostakovich, March of the Soviet Police. Amazing, Sue.
Fantastic. A boy named Sue. How do you do? I don't know how, but you did it. And that gives you six points, which means that you are the winner of today's show. What a comeback. What a spectacular reversal. And that means that you now have six frequent flyer points on Spruce Goose Airlines, plus not one, but two genuine 100% polyester tea cozies, courtesy of Evelyn Tree and her husband, Crabb, who run the KK2, as the locals call it, the Quaint Cottage at Cranberry Cove.
Remember their motto, there's not much in this store you'd want to buy, but it sure smells good. And that's a wrap, folks. Thanks for joining us, and thank you, Lester, Doreen, and Sue, for playing Who Wrote That Thing?
[music: "Who Wrote That Thing?" theme; Clowez, "March de la 2e D. B." (Grandes Marches Militaires Françaises); Musique Militaire de Paris/de Foy]
Transportation has been provided by the Wells Fargo Stage Company, serving America since it was knee-high to a grasshopper. And by Tortoise Travel, better late than never. Hotel accommodations have been generously donated by the Mirror Mirror on the Ceiling Motel. What we don't know won't hurt us. And by the Topsy Turvy Motor Inn. Remember, there's always room at the top. Join us again next time for Who Wrote That Thing?
Okay, by the way, you know the host of Who Wrote That Thing? Moonlights on another show. His name's Peter Schickele, and the show is Schickele Mix from PRI, Public Radio International. You know, I was thinking about that last march, the March of the Soviet Police. That title sounds so foreboding. And I think it's not only because of what we know about the Soviet Police in the middle of the 20th century, when that Shostakovich march was written, but also because it's so foreign to modern American culture, the idea of a police department or agency commissioning a march from the foremost composer in the country. I mean, can you imagine Philip Glass or Elliot Carter being asked to write something called the March of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms? Anyway, today's program is called From the Marching Field to the Concert Hall in Two Quick and Easy Steps.
Or should it be in Two Easy and Quick Steps? I'm trying to get that quick step thing in here, you know? But hey, we got to keep moving here, so I'm going to let it ride. Listen, call the show anything you want. Okay, we've heard a bunch of marches by symphonic composers. Let's turn the tables here. Here's a pair of numbers. The first, another march for band by by a predominantly symphonic composer, and the second, an orchestral piece by a composer known primarily for his work with bands.
Here is the sound of two composers crossing the street. See you in about six minutes.
[music: Prokofiev, March for Military Band, Opus 99; Stockholm Concert Band/Rozhdestvensky]
[music: Sousa, Prelude to “El Capitán”; Cincinnati Pops Orchestra/Kunzel]
Two composers crossing the street there. First we heard a march for military band, Op. 99 by Prokofiev, and that was performed by the Stockholm Concert Band under the direction of Gennady Rozhdestvensky. It's probably as close as I can get. And if you know any of Prokofiev's music, you'll see why I didn't include that on our contest show today, because you definitely could pretty easily spot that because of the funny little modulations between different keys he does in the middle of a melody.
And then the second number was the prelude to the comic opera El Capitan by John Philip Sousa. That was Eric Kunzel conducting the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra. And of course, at the end of that prelude, you do hear a very familiar tune because Sousa took that march out of the opera and it turned into one of his most beloved marches.
Hey, we've got time for another tidbit here, folks. So, you know, on another edition of this program, I mentioned that marches have come quite close to various dances throughout their history. Some of the Sousa marches, for instance, were very popular as dances because the characteristics of marches were so close to certain dances like the cakewalk and the two-step.
But it's not very often that you find the march and the minuet coming together as you do here.
[music: P. D. Q. Bach, "Minuet Militaire (S. 1A)" (1712 Overture & Other Musical Assaults); The Greater Hoople Area Off-Season Philharmonic/Walter Bruno]
And that was the Minuet Militaire, Schickele number 1A, by P.D.Q. Bach. And that was the Greater Hoople Area Off-Season Philharmonic, conducted by Walter Bruno.
And you classical music buffs know that that name, Walter Bruno, has got to be a nom de tape there. It is true that the conductor was actually a well-known conductor who, for contractual reasons, couldn't use his real name there. But, you know, it's been several years since this album came out. I think that I can probably say who it was. The actual name of the... Hold on just a second, folks.
Hello? Oh! Hello! Hello. Oh, no, certainly. I don't want to give the name if you feel strongly about it. You know, I thought it wouldn't matter anymore. No, no. No, that's perfectly fine, Mr. Walter. That's fine. Okay, thanks for calling. Bye. Well, I tell you what, that's about it, folks. But before we march out of here, let me lay a little factoid on you.
Did you know that John Philip Sousa, in addition to writing marches and operettas, wrote novels?
And that's Schickele Mix for this week. The march at the beginning of the show was 'Gyp the Blood' or Hearst, Which Is Worst? by Charles Ives, played by the Ensemble Modern under Ingo Metzmacher. Right now we're hearing Entrance of the Gladiators or Thunder and Blazes by Fučík, played by the Gürzenich Bassoon Quintet.
Our program is made possible with funds provided by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and by the National Endowment for the Arts, with additional support from the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences, and from this radio station and its members. Thank you, members. And not only that, our program is distributed by PRI, Public Radio International. We'll tell you in a moment how you can get an official playlist of all the music on today's program with album numbers and everything.
Just refer to the program number. This is program number 138. And this is Peter Schickele saying goodbye and reminding you that it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that certain je ne sais quoi. You're looking good. See you next week.
If you'd like a copy of that playlist I mentioned, send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to Schickele Mix. That's Schickele, Schickele Mix. Care of Public Radio International, 100 North 6th Street, Suite 900A, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 55403.