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.

Listen

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

Listing

Transcript

[This is a machine-generated transcript, cleaned up 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.
[No speech for 14s.]
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.
Oops. 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?
[No speech for 126s.]
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.
All right, James Moody, take that lampshade off your head.
James Moody playing the Beer Barrel Polka. Give yourself 10 points if you recognize... the tune from the intro. And 100 points if you knew that the sidemen were... Mark Cohen, Todd Kuhlman, and Akira Tana. And give yourself 500 points if you're wearing later hosin', folks, because today's show is about polkas. Those lively dances in duple time, usually 2-4. They're 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 WDAY in Fargo, North Dakota, as a teenager. This is the basic stuff. We'll call this sweetlet, Polkas to Dance To. And don't... Don't worry about getting pooped. It's only about four and a half minutes long.
[No speech for 97s.]
It used to be on Saturdays, I'd say, oh, oh, oh There was no one there to talk to, no one I could call And then one day a friend came by and found me out of bed He was going to a polka dance, and this is what he said
Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it I like it now, I play them every day Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it I'm hoping here to stay I had friends who had a band that would play rock and roll
I told them about my polkas, and they said it had no soul I asked them, they never gave a fuck about the music and fun They said no, so I looked at them and gave them the straight line
Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it So they try it I like it now I play them every day Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it Try it, you'll like it I hope they're here to stay Remember finger or heel That's fine
I saw some dancers dancing through a symphony
A group of stupid shots
You know, they really broke their feet I heard them playing rock and roll
I never went to a bolt and test. They said no, but I said, yeah, that's a test. Try it if you like it. Try it if you like it.
So they tried it and they liked it. Now they play them every day. Try it if you like it. Try it if you like it. Try it if you like it. Now, folks, here's a tale. Friends out there in Houston land. Look at them, look at them and cry. Come on, two-dick lodges, and we'll stay away in line. The poker is the coming thing, so try it if you will.
The happy shot of poker will give you quite a thrill. Try it if you like it. Try it if you like it.
So they tried it and they liked it. Now they play them every day. Try it if you like it. Try it if you like it. Try it if you like it. Come on, two-dick lodges, and we'll stay away in line.
[No speech for 17s.]
Our two pokers to dance to were an old Polish polka played by the Mandel Quartet with Robert Mandel on hurdy-gurdy plus the Okros 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 Rogers.
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 Whoopi John and Polka Padre. Now that's a great name for a band, Polka Padre. At WDAY, 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 pokers 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 something. 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 Sarah Bands? The Sarah Bands 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 Sarah Band 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 form. The first one is called The 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.
[No speech for 280s.]
Polkas to Listen To began with the Village Bells polka by Stephen Foster, played by Joseph Smith. Then we hear the Military polka by Asher from the band book of the Harmony City, 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 Martyniou 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. It's more difficult to pronounce than Peter Schickele, the host of Schickele Mix from PRI, 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...
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 song. 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.
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.
And that's today's edition of...
Etymology can be fun. If you can remember whether it's about words or about bones. 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.
[No speech for 17s.]
Okay, that's the variation. Here's the theme and the variation.
[No speech for 80s.]
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...
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.
[No speech for 201s.]
Come on. All right.
All right. I've got to go now.
Bye. Bye. Take care at the concert.
The crystal does be great in his coat, with wheezing hurdy-gurdy of the marine wind, blows me to the tune of Annie Rooney's sturdy, over the sheafs of the sea, and bright as the season's pack-backed, with zinnias can be just chill, is Mrs. Merrigal's jacket, as she bakes at the indoor still, when 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, Russo, Russo, the bright and oxy beer, dear, but he finds fresh isles in an egress, smiles the poxy, doxy, dear, as they watch me dance the polka, said Mr. Wag Like a Bear,
in Marta Patnum always says, let's tra-la-la-la-la-trap the bear, tra-la-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.
Pokas to Smile and Grimace At The first was one of the three easy pieces by Igor Stravinsky, played by his son, Salima Stravinsky, and the second polka was the third movement of a strangely tough, 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 E. Fiaminghi, the Orchestra of Flanders, under the direction of Rudolf, and Rudolf Verton.
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 musical that was going on, but I couldn't find anyone. I was waiting for 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 one I've ever played. The only work I have so far discovered by the mini-meister of Weinam 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 Me. It's a great poem, but it's less than the last.
We'll hear To the Virgins to Make the Much of Time and The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.
[No speech for 22s.]
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, the higher, he's a getty.
The sooner will his race be won, the nearer he's to setting.
That age is best, which is the first, when youth and blood are warmer.
Being spent the worst and worst, time still succeeds the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time, and while ye may go merry,
He rose, but while ye may go, time is still applying.
This same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying.
And we will sing upon the rocks, on the rocks, singing the shepherds, we the bobs, we the bobs, we the bobs, we the bobs, we the bobs, we the bobs, we the bobs.
[No speech for 137s.]
The Swarthmore College Chorus, under the direction of Peter Graham Swing, performing two of the Liebesleder Pokas, Schickele No. 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 is always one hand available for turning pages.
Brahms didn't think of that. The pianists, by the way, were Anne Epperson, David Wee, and Professor Peter Schickele, who is extremely closely related to the Peter Schickele who is the host of Schickele Mix,
from PRI, 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 Blast. It's called Polka, and it's three numbers last a little over ten minutes, after which I shall return.
[No speech for 437s.]
One, two, three, let's go. Polka Music
You gave me some money from that old bell jar. You gave me some glamour juice, not from the start.
You gave me a haircut, said this is so divine, and you showed me how to polka. Here's what I cried, that I don't want to polka with you no more.
And I don't want to peewees, and I don't feel let's go.
You gave me a sausage from your mommy's saloon.
You gave me a boat ride to your favorite lagoon. You gave me a caramel with slimy swamp inside. You said this is your culture. Here's what I cried, that I don't want to polka with you no more.
And I don't want to pee in your backyard. I don't want to march on your kiwis. And I don't want to cry for my wee-wee. Let's go.
[No speech for 63s.]
You gave me a better and a downer slimy swamp inside. You said this is your culture. Here's what I cried, that I don't want to polka with you no more. And I don't want to pee in your backyard. And I don't want to march on your kiwis. And I don't want to cry for my wee-wee.
I'll go along with that. That suite was called Mondo Polka. It began with a bassoon quartet called Polka in Swing by Georg Terfert, played by the Gertzinnisch Fagot.
Then we heard the Oa Poa Polka by Mary Ellen Childs, performed by the accordionist who commissioned it, Guy Klutschewsek. 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 spelling.
And the last section was I Don't Want a Polka by the Polka Dogs, a Canadian band consisting of banjo, free bass accordion, I thought free bassing 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. 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. 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 Stassny. 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.
[No speech for 147s.]
The door is locked.
I can't get back into the studio.
How could this happen? Hey, is anybody in there?
If so, please open the door. Surprise! Hey, what is this? Come on, you guys. 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. One, two, three. Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. I'm not 150 years old, believe me. 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, just partying, okay? Blow out the candles! Yeah, right. Blow out 150 candles. Give me a break.
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. Make a wish! Yeah. 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. That's right. That is it.
But okay, I'll make a wish. Okay. All right, here goes.
Go, go, go. Is this a windbag? Go, go, go. That's how it goes.
Haven't 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. Got it.
[No speech for 18s.]
Oh, man. Hey, honey. That's a beautiful way. 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 let's see. Hell, 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 be able to see. I'm 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 zenisequa. Man, 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 S-C-H-I-C-K-E-L-E, Schickele Mix. Care of Public Radio International.
North 6th Street, Suite 900A, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 55403.
PRI. PRI.