Polka Party at Pete’s Place

Schickele Mix Episode #150

Part of The Schickele Mix Online Fan Archive

Premiere
1997-12-03
“Peter, are you ready?”
I hope you've got your party hat on.

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You can listen to this episode on the Internet Archive, and follow along using the transcript.

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Transcript

[This is a machine-generated transcript, corrected by hand and formatted as HTML. You can download the original as an .srt file.]

I hope you've got your party hat on. Here's the theme.
[theme: Mozart, Symphony No. 24]
Hello there, you party animal. 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 our bills, it's good to report, are paid by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and by this fine radio station.
What I do here is distributed far and wide by PRI, Public Radio International. I have to apologize, folks, I'm not quite as organized as usual here. I usually get some help from other members of the staff, you know, pulling CDs and stuff, but there is nobody around today. The place is like a morgue. I don't know why either, but anyway, that's my problem, not yours.
I will try to muddle through with at least a modicum of distinction. Okay, how good are you at recognizing a tune? I mean, even if it's embellished a bit. Like, can you tell me what song James Moody is playing here?
[music excerpt: Brown/Timm/Vejvoda, "Beer Barrel Polka" (Sweet & Lovely); James Moody]
So what is that song? Unfortunately, the whole cut is almost 11 minutes long. There's no way we can play all of it and still have room for what's coming up. But let's go to the end of it, where Moody plays the tune in tempo.
[music excerpt: Brown/Timm/Vejvoda, "Beer Barrel Polka" (Sweet & Lovely), ending; James Moody]
All right, James Moody, take that lampshade off your head. James Moody playing the Beer Barrel Polka. Give yourself 10 points if you recognized the tune from the intro, and 100 points if you knew that the sidemen were Marc Cohen, Todd Coolman, and Akira Tana. And give yourself 500 points if you're wearing lederhosen, folks, because today's show is about polkas, those lively dances in duple time, usually two-four, they are sometimes indistinguishable musically from marches and quick steps, but the polka world is, well, it's like a whole way of life, especially in the part of the Midwest that I come from, although even there it's perhaps not as widespread or as virulent as it once was.
We're going to start off with a brief history. A very brief history of the polka. Just two numbers. The first, from old Polish folklore, played on peasant instruments. And the second, the kind of thing I heard a lot of on radio station W.D.A.Y. in Fargo, North Dakota, as a teenager. This is the basic stuff. We'll call this suitelet, Polkas to Dance To. And don't worry about getting pooped. It's only about four and a half minutes long.
[music: Trad. arr. Kiss, "Oberek & Polka" (Hurdy-Gurdy Collection); Robert Mandel, hurdy-gurdy]
[music: "Try It, You’ll Like It" (Polka Dance Party, Vol. 2”); Dick Rodgers]
Our two Polkas to Dance To were an old Polish polka played by the Mandel Quartet with Robert Mandel on hurdy-gurdy, plus the Ökrös Group, the management takes no responsibility for its pronunciation of Middle European names, and the second one was called Try It, You'll Like It, I'll bet you figured that out, done by Dick Rodgers, that's from a CD called Polka Dance Party, Volume 2, it's got some bands I remember from my youthhood, like Six Fat Dutchmen and Frankie Yankovic, and some bands I don't remember, like Whoopee John and Polka Padre. Now that's a great name for a band, Polka Padre.
At W.D.A.Y., it was the best little band in the land. It was a nice little band, it was little, no tuba, unfortunately. I was maybe a little snooty about polkas in those days, but I loved hanging out at the studios just to be around the musicians.
Can't remember many of their names now. Little Joe played violin, the laconic Harry Jennings on guitar as I remember, Orville Nellermoe, a sweet and mellow guy and a terrific bass player. And of course most of those guys also played in the country and western band and the dance band. In small time radio you didn't have to change costumes, you just had to show up. Okay, now to go back in history a bit. You know what happens.
It happens time and time again. You get some hot new dance going, and before you know it, the high-brow composers, the guys who know how to read music, they come along and co-opt the whole thing. Remember what they did to Sarabands? The Sarabands started out as a smoldering, sexy dance done by Spanish courtesans.
But by the time you hear one in a Bach unaccompanied violin piece, hey, we're not even talking PG-13 here. But in their defense, I do have to say that the conservatory composers have not been out to squelch these dances as dances, qua dances. If the Sarabande was squelched as a dance, it was probably due more to the influence of the church than anything else. Certainly the waltz, the foxtrot, and the tango, to mention a few, were not squelched by being appropriated into so-called serious music.
Here are three concert polkas of varying degrees of fidelity to their roots. By the time we get to the third piece, I don't even think most listeners would think of it as a polka if the composer hadn't called it one. Polkas to Listen To, back in five.
[music: Foster, "Village Polka Bells" (Rhythmic Moments); Joseph Smith]
[music: Asher, "Military Polka" (Listen To the Mocking Bird); Chestnut Brass Company]
[music excerpt: Martinu, "Études & Polkas, Book I, Polka in A"; Radoslav Kvapil]
Polkas to Listen To began with the Village Bells Polka by Stephen Foster, played by Joseph Smith.
Then we heard the Military Polka by Asher from the band book of the Harmony City... [missing audio] ...Pennsylvania, played by the Chestnut Brass Company and friends on original 19th century brass instruments, which were a pretty motley lot and had their own ideas about intonation. Then finally came the polka in A by Bohuslav Martinu from book one of his Etudes and Polkas, played by Radoslav Kvapil, or is it Kvapil?
It's basically a simple name, but to me, it's harder to pronounce than Peter Schickele, the host of Schickele Mix from P.R.I., Public Radio International.
Well, today we're having a polka party at Pete's place. Nice little party, just you and me, although I hope you dance better than I do. So if we're going to be spending an hour connecting the polka dots here, it might be nice to know where the name comes from. It does not, I can tell you this, come from Chico Marx trying to say a pig in a poke. But where does it come from? This sounds like a job for...
[music excerpt: Walton, "Facade, Overture"; Ensemble under the direction of David Epstein]
Etymology can be fun.
Yes, etymology can be fun. If you can remember whether it's about words or about bugs. It's about words. And etymology can be fun.
According to Grove's dictionary, the origin of the term polka is uncertain. The dance originated in Bohemia, which is now part of Czechoslovakia. The name may have come from the Czech word pulka, meaning half, because of the short heel and toe half steps, which are characteristic of the dance. Or it may have come from pole, the word for field. But it's more likely that it comes from the Czech word for a Polish girl, polska, which might have been shouted out during the dancing, or perhaps, according to Groves, it might have been in reference to the Krakowiak dance songs which the Bohemians adapted for their polka.
That's a great word, isn't it? Krakowiak. Meaning, I presume, from Krakow. Or should it be Krakowiak? You know, like it's Moscow but Muscovite? You could make it clearer that it's an adjective by adding I-A-N on the end. Krakowiakian.
Now we're talking about a groove! Krakowiakian! Krakowiakian! Krakowiakian! Ah, there goes the irrelevancy alarm. I could probably argue that one. We are, after all, talking about the etymological origins of the subject of today's program, but these appeals are so costly, you know, in terms of time and money, so I'm going to let it go. I do, however, want to tell you about the results of my own research, and you're getting in on the ground floor on this. I haven't published it yet.
Not many people know that the early European settlers on the eastern seaboard of America included some Bohemians and a tragic incident occurred in 1594 when the Bohemians were showing off their dancing to a friendly tribe of Indians. A fight broke out and there were some people killed on both sides and the Indians came to feel that they were haunted by the sound of the polka, which is why their chief, Powhatan, named his daughter Pocahontas. The rest, as they say, is history.
[music]
And that's today's edition of Etymology Can Be Fun. If you can remember whether it's about words or about bugs, it's about words.
I'm telling you, if this show were any more educational, we'd have to charge tuition. Okay, we started the show with a guessing game, let's do another. You are about to hear a 16 second polka that constitutes the first variation of a set of variations on a very well known song. But this is the kind of variation where the only thing it has in common with the theme is the harmonic structure. So this is worth, I'm going to say 50 points.
[music excerpt: Shostakovich, Jazz Suite No. 2, Little Polka; Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra/Chailly]
Okay that's the variation, here's the theme and the variation.
[music excerpt: Foster, “Old Folks at Home” Variations (Rhythmic Moments); Joseph Smith]
The theme and first variation from the Old Folks at Home Variations by Stephen Foster. Once again our pianist was Joseph Smith. Definitely music written to be playable by a genteel parlor pianist. Now let's listen to three more concert polkas, but this time the...
[sound: phone rings]
Rats!
Excuse me, just a minute. Oh wait a minute, I know what this is going to be.
I did not mean to imply that Joseph Smith is a genteel parlor pianist. I just mean that I'll bet that's the market Stephen Foster had in mind when he wrote that piece. Man, I certainly wish the station manager would let me turn the phone off during the show.
But the show must go on, and it's going to go on with three parody polkas, three concert pieces that perhaps poke affectionate fun at the polka while nevertheless reveling in its spunky spirit. At least that's true of the first and last pieces. The middle one can't exactly be called affectionate. I call this suite, Polkas to Smile or Grimace At, and I'll see you in about four and a half minutes.
[music: Stravinsky, "Polka"; Soulima Stravinsky]
[music excerpt: Gorecki, "Kleines Requiem Für eine Polka, 3rd Mvt."; I Fiamminghi/Werthen]
[music excerpt: Walton, "Facade, Polka"; Janet Bookspan/Ensemble under the direction of David Epstein]
Janet Bookspan (recorded): "See me dance the polka," said Mr. Wagg like a bear, "with my top hat and my whiskers that (tra la la) trap the Fair." Where the waves seem chiming haycocks I dance the polka; there stand Venus' children in their gay frocks, maroon and marine, and stare
to see me fire my pistol through the distance blue as my coat; like Wellington, Byron, the Marquis of Bristol, busbied great trees float. While the wheezing hurdy-gurdy of the marine wind blows me to the tune of Annie Rooney, sturdy, over the sheafs of the sea; and bright as a seedsman's packet with zinnias, candytufts chill, is Mrs. Marigold's jacket as she gapes at the inn door still, where at dawn in the box of the sailor, blue as the decks of the sea, Nelson awoke, crowed like the cocks, then back to the dust sank he. And Robinson Crusoe rues so the bright and foxy beer, but he finds fresh isles in a negress' smiles, the poxy doxy dear, "As they watch me dance the polka," said Mr. Wagg like a bear, "in my top hat and my whiskers that, tra la la, trap the Fair. Tra la la la la, tra la la la la, tra la la la la la la la la la."
Polkas to Smile and Grimace At. The first was one of the Three Easy Pieces by Igor Stravinsky, played by his son, Soulima Stravinsky, and the second polka was the third movement of a strangely titled work, The Little Requiem for a Polka, by the Polish composer Henryk Gorecki. According to the liner notes of this beautifully played album, the composer has provided no clues as to the reason for the work's title. That third movement is the only one of the four that sounds polka-ish at all. Polka-ish in a pretty vitriolic or desperate manner to be sure. The performers were I Fiamminghi, the Orchestra of Flanders under the direction of Rudolf Werthen. And then the last piece was the polka from Facade, an entertainment with music by William Walton and poems by Edith Sitwell. Janet Bookspan was the speaker and David Epstein conducted the six players.
The line, See me dance the polka, probably refers to a very popular 1886 song of that title. You know, I don't know what's going on at this station today. During that last suite, I tried to call a bunch of people here to find out about a meeting tomorrow, and nobody is here. The building is empty. It's like a ghost town.
The only person I could get was the receptionist and she put me on hold for two and a half polkas. I finally gave up. Really weird. But look on the bright side. It's Tidbit Time at the old Polka Hall. Here are two selections from P. D. Q. Bach's monumental choral work, the Liebeslieder Polkas, for mixed chorus and piano five hands. This is the only work I have so far discovered by the mini-meister of Wein am Rhein, in which he sets the poems of well-known poets, in this case Robert Herrick and Christopher Marlowe, although whatever respect he might have had for their eminence did not prevent him from interpolating lines of his own into their texts.
So sue me, he said to a picture of Herrick in the book from which he took the poems, a tome entitled Seven Famous Poets, Each Deader Than the Last. We'll hear To the Virgins to Make the Much of Time, and The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.
[music excerpt: P. D. Q. Bach, Liebeslieder Polkas, No. 2 & 3 (Liebeslieder Polkas); Swarthmore College Chorus/David Oei & Anne Epperson, piano]
The Swarthmore College Chorus, under the direction of Peter Gram Swing, performing two of the Liebeslieder Polkas, S. 2/4, by P. D. Q. Bach. The accompaniment in that work is for Piano Five Hands, and you know that was very smart of P. D. Q., because it means that, with three people at the piano, there was always one hand available for turning pages. Brahms didn't think of that.
The pianists, by the way, were Anne Epperson, David Oei, and Professor Peter Schickele, who is extremely closely related to the Peter Schickele who is the host of Schickele Mix from P.R.I., Public Radio International.
It's a polka party at Pete's Place. And now we're going to take the polka right out to the edge. We're going to take it to the limit one more two-four time. We're going to enter the polka twilight zone, where no polka person has ever gone before. This suite is called Mondo Polka, and its three numbers last a little over ten minutes, after which I shall return.
[music: Ter Voert, "Polka in Swing" (Fagottissimo); Gürzenich Bassoon Quintet]
[music: Childs, "Oa Poa Polka" (Emergency Music); Guy Klucevsek]
[music: Millard, "I Don’t Want To Polka" (The Entertainers); Polka Dogs]
That suite was called Mondo Polka. It began with a bassoon quartet called Polka in Swing by Georg Ter Voert, played by the Gürzenich Fagott Quintet. Then we heard the Oa Poa Polka by Mary Ellen Childs performed by the accordionist who commissioned it, Guy Klucevsek. Terrific piece! That title, Oa Poa Polka, sounds as if it could be Hawaiian, you know, which bathes me in some very fond memories. But, according to the composer, the title reflects the structure of the piece, which begins with a few scattered notes and gradually fills in the spaces.
O-A-P-O-A-P-O-L-K-A. And the last section was I Don't Want to Polka by the Polka Dogs, a Canadian band consisting of banjo, freebass accordion, I thought freebassing was against the law, but maybe not in Canada, tuba, drums, and trombone. You know, it's your typical banjo, accordion, tuba, rock and roll band, my kind of group. Well, I guess that about wraps up...
[sound: phone rings]
Oh, man, here we go again. Excuse me. Hello? Oh, hello, sir.
Well, I... You know, I am still on the air. Okay, well, if it's really important, and it'll only take a minute... Okay, I'll put on a CD and come right down to your office. I'm surprised that you're here, nobody else is. Okay, I'll be right there. Uh, folks, I'm going to put on...
I'm going to play you a very attractive little selection here called the Papageno Polka by Ludwig Stasny. I wasn't originally going to play it because we don't have time to hear the various themes from Mozart's The Magic Flute to which it refers. But it's a cute piece and I hope you'll enjoy it. And here it is folks, the Papageno Polka.
[music: Stasny, "Papageno Polka" (Silks & Rags); The Great American Main St. Band]
Oh, no! The door's locked! I can't get back into the studio! How could this happen? Hey, is anybody in there? If so, please open the door!
Party guests: Surprise!
Hey, what is this? Oh, man, look at that cake!
It's not my birthday. What's the story here? Hey, listen, besides, even if it were my birthday, I'm not, I mean, I may be old, but I'm not 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. I'm not 150 years old. Oh, wait a minute. This is Schickele Mix number 150, isn't it?
Guys, that is so sweet. Tell you what, why don't I put on the theme and do the closing credits, and then we can get down to some serious partying, okay?
Party guests: Blow out the candles!
Yeah, right, blow out 150 candles. Give me a break.
Party guests: Blow out the candles! Blow out the candles!
Okay, okay, okay. Okay, everybody, I will endeavor to the best of my ability to blow out the candles.
Party guests: Make a wish!
Make a wish. Well, you know what I wish is that wishes would come true immediately if they're going to come true at all. And what happens with me is as time goes by I forget what I wished for so I don't know whether it came true or not. If a wish is going to come true, it should come true within a minute. But okay, I'll make a wish.
All right, here goes!
[sound: Schickele blows out the 150 birthday candles]
Party guests: Go, go, go! Is this a windbag? Go, go, go! I always said that! Go, go, go!
Thank you, thank you. Thank you very much. Okay, here comes the theme, folks. Everybody be quiet when I bring the mic back up for the credits.
[theme: Mozart, Symphony No. 24]
Oh, man, it did come true.
[music: Hoku, "Aloha No Wau Iko Maka" (Authentic Hawaiian Guitar); Hawaiian Trio & Takiti]
Hey, honey. It's a beautiful lei. I like a woman who's not overdressed.
What can I say? Well, I guess that's Schickele Mix for this week. Our program is made possible with funds provided by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and by this radio station and its members. Thank you, members.
And, uh, let's see. Oh, yeah, our program is distributed by PRI, Public Radio International.
Okay, 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 and this is, as you know, program number 150.
And this is Peter Schickele at a little beach on Lanai that I'm certainly not going to tell you the name of, saying goodbye and reminding you that it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that certain je ne sais quoi. Man, you're looking good. See you next week.
[music: Hoku, "Aloha No Wau Iko Maka" (Authentic Hawaiian Guitar); Hawaiian Trio & Takiti]
If you'd like a copy of that playlist I mentioned, send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to Schickele Mix. That's S-C-H-I-C-K-E-L-E, Schickele Mix. Care of Public Radio International, 100 North 6th Street, Suite 900A, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 55403.
Announcer: PRI, Public Radio International.