A message from WCLV Lorraine Cleveland, Northeast Ohio's classical music station. Locally owned, locally responsive.
Also, WBKC, 1460 AM, Painesville. Don't get me started. 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 I must admit that good is not a word I would use to describe the circumstances of today's broadcast, but hey, there's always a silver lining, right?
The silver lining here is that our bills are paid by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and also by this radio station, and this show is distributed by PRI, Public Radio International. The not-so-good part is that they're doing some rewiring up in the studios and I'm having to do today's show down here in the basement of the station. And when I say basement, I don't mean pine paneled rec room type basement. I don't even mean cement block hallways type basement. I mean dirt floor basement. I mean pock marked brick walls, huge wooden beams complete with spider webs, an old abandoned coal chute and all sorts of meters and fuse boxes and boilers and discarded stuff and a dirt floor with...
You know when I was a kid, living on Harvard Street in Washington D.C. there was a big old house across the street that had a stone foundation with a hole in it.
And a couple of times a few of us got up our nerve and crawled in through that hole, and there was a place where there was, like, white powder on the dirt floor, and we were convinced that somebody had been buried there. Well, I swear that there's an area here on the floor in this basement, I can't help it, it's about six feet long and two feet wide, okay, and it has a whitish tinge, as if lime had been spread on it, you know what I mean?
I mean, I'll admit it, this place gives me the creeps. Oh, and they've spared no expense in setting me up here. I'm sitting at a table made of three 2x8s held up by a couple of sawhorses. There's one little gooseneck lamp here with a, what is it, it's a 40-watt bulb. I'm wearing a lavalier, you know, the kind of little mic you clip on the front of your shirt or jacket, with a little power pack or whatever it is on your belt.
I'm telling you, and of course, the kicker is that this is a Halloween show. Here I am in a dark, dank basement, and the only thing that I... What's that?
What is... Oh, man. You know, I don't usually spook easily, but I'll be glad when this show is over, and I can return to the land of the living.
Actually, you know, maybe it's just as well that it's a little scary down here. I mean, not really scary, but sort of. I mean, because one of the things that I want to talk about on this show is the discrepancy between the apocalyptic, soul-rending terror of the Night of the Dead and the good-time, giggly, novelty-prone thing that Halloween has become in our culture.
On the one hand, you've got the Requiem Mass, based on the text, "Day of wrath and doom impending, David's word with Sibyl's blending, heaven and earth in ashes ending. Oh, what fear man's bosom rendeth, when from heaven the Judge descendeth, on whose sentence all dependeth." And on the other hand, you've got candy corn and the Munsters.
You've got this on one hand.
[music excerpt: Verdi, "Requiem, Dies irae"; Atlanta Symphony Orchestra & Chorus]
Emotionally speaking, I think you'll agree that it's a long way from that to this.
Elvira (recorded): Yes, it's me, the queen of camp, every trick or street, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. And thanks for helping me celebrate Halloween with our very own private party. I guarantee it'll be a scream. Whoa, good thing I didn't say it'd be a gasp.
Elvira (recorded): After you hear this collection of my all-time favorite terrifying tunes, I'm sure you'll agree there's nothing quite like Elvira's Monster Hits. Hits. I said Hits. Sheesh, wash your mind down with soap, will ya? There's children listening. That's because adults won't. Now let me start you off with a hot new song destined to become a cult classic. It's by my favorite artist of all time, me. And if you don't just absolutely worship it, I will eat a bug.
Elvira (recorded): Hey, what the heck? I think I'll eat a bug anyway.
Elvira (recorded): Ew, ew, yuck! Oh, who put candy in a bug dish? Ew, oh, dude, I think I'm gonna hurl. Oh, well, anyway, while I visit the little ghoul's room, here's some music that'll really get you in the Halloween spirit.
Okay, whatever. We heard part of the Dies irae section of the Verdi Requiem with Robert Shaw and the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra & Chorus, followed by Elvira's invitation to hear her sing one of her songs. An invitation we will respectfully decline, although as a matter of fact we will be hearing some of the other artistes she has brought together on her CD compilations.
But before we do that, I wanted to mention that even within the realm of liturgical music, The highly dramatic, fire-and-brimstone quality that we have come to associate with the Dies irae was not always present. Early settings of the text were much more restrained, invoking sadness, perhaps, more than fear and trembling. Here are two settings, one from the 15th century and one from the 18th.
[music excerpt: Brumel, Sequentia: Dies irae, “Dies illa”; Huelgas Ensemble/Paul van Nevel]
[music excerpt: Mozart, "Requiem, Dies irae"; Atlanta Symphony Orchestra & Chorus]
Excerpts from two Requiem Masses, the first by Antoine Brumel, performed by the Huelgas Ensemble under Paul van Nevel. That was just the first verse of the Day of Wrath sequence. Then we heard the first two verses in the setting by Mozart, from the Requiem that he came to believe, not without reason, that he was writing for himself. Much more dramatic than the early Renaissance Mass. What was that?
Oh man, I guess it was just something to do with that boiler over there in the corner. I don't mind telling you, this business of broadcasting a Halloween show from the basement of the station has got me just a little bit edgy. I keep thinking I see something moving over there by the coal chute. I mean, I'm not saying it's anything supernatural or anything, but what if it's rats? I can't wait to get out of here.
Anyway, that was Robert Shaw and the Atlanta gang again doing the Mozart. There are so many different versions of the Mozart Requiem around now that it's got... What is that noise again? What is that? Oh man, that freaks me out.
This is beginning to get to me. I mean, what it is, is how it's all coming together here. They tell me I have to broadcast my show from the basement because of construction upstairs. It just happens to be a Halloween show, with excerpts from three different Requiem Masses. And I just happen to have seen my lawyer earlier today to revise my will. I mean, is that creepy or what?
You know, I think I'm going to sign the will right now. Well, I was going to do it when I got home, you know, after I had a chance to think about whether I really want to change it or not, but maybe I should just go ahead and sign it right now. You never know. I mean, I love my cats, but what would they do with human money anyway, right?
All right. Okay, let's see. Okay, here it is. Peter Schickele, host of Schickele Mix from PRI, Public Radio International.
Halloween, what it comes from, what it's become. Today's show is called Day of Wrath, Day of Yuckiness. So, do you think I was being too much of a Puritan when I implied that I disapprove of the discrepancy between the very real feeling of terror, or at least unease, that is usually found in a religious view of the Night of the Dead, and the harmless, humorous, commercialized Halloween that most of us experience? Yeah, so do I.
No, no, I mean, I agree with you. I think I was being too much of a Puritan. It's not that I think that serious things should always be avoided, be co-opted by something less serious. But it is true that we have a long history of using humor to help us deal with things that make us uncomfortable, or things that we have trouble handling. Like sex, right? And mothers-in-law. And sickness. And certainly death.
Now there is a limit, and it occurs at different places for different people. I've heard jokes that make me feel more queasy than amused. But I also know a couple of Alzheimer's jokes that crack me up. And one of the reasons they crack me up is that my dad had Alzheimer's for ten years before he died, and it became so difficult to deal with, especially for my mother and my brother, who were on the scene more than I, that sometimes all you could do was laugh.
You know, I often think I'm afflicted with random noun syndrome, but he really was.
I remember sitting with him at a window seat in a restaurant once, and there was a lot of traffic outside, and he watched the cars for a while, and then he said, Peter, look at all that egg interest out there. Egg interest. I have no idea what it means, but it's beautiful. What could I do but laugh and say, you're right, Dad, I don't think I've ever seen that much egg interest. Now, I don't know much about psychology, but I know what I like, and it's becoming increasingly clear that laughter is quite literally good medicine.
It's one way to deal with your demons, at least for a while.
Which brings us, as I was about to say, to a lovely group of lieder called Songs My Monster Taught Me. There are four of them, and they last about thirteen and a half minutes. I'll be back.
[music: Williamson, "The Minotaur’s Song" (The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter); The Incredible String Band]
[music: Pickett/Capizzi, "Monster Mash" (Elvira Presents Haunted Hits); Bobby "Boris" Pickett & The Crypt-Kickers]
Hey, if you can't beat them, laugh at them. Songs My Monster Taught Me began with Screamin' Jay Hawkins telling us of his encounter with a little demon. I'm doing quote signs there. That's the name of the song. Then came Monster by Pete Sutherland, performed by him, Grey Larsen, and Malcolm Dalglish from a cassette called Root Crops and Ground Cover. Next, that nice little Gilbert & Sullivan-ish ditty was The Minotaur's Song from The Incredible String Band. And then last, and in all likelihood least, Monster Mash, featuring Bobby "Boris" Pickett and the Crypt-Kickers.
You know, the other thing about Halloween is that most kids like being scared, as long as they know they're safe, as long as it's not too scary, or scary for too long. Right from those first little games of boo to roller coasters, many of us like to be scared. Not to mention all those gory movies that give new meaning to the term highest grossing films.
Those eyeball poppers are too much for me, but I was a roller coaster fan well into middle age. My friend Bob and I used to go out to Coney Island and ride the Cyclone 5, 6, 7, 8 times in a row, arguing about whether the first car or the last car was the better ride. See, the thing is, you get whipped around more in the last car. But there is nothing as scary as going down that first hill in the front car.
When I first went to New York, the parachute jump was still open. And I think that was the scariest thing I've ever been on. Hey, you know, one thing I like about being down here in the basement is that there's no irrelevancy alarm. I can talk about whatever I want.
And also, I have to say, you know, we were talking about laughter being a weapon, that after listening to those ridiculously silly monster songs, I am feeling considerably more comfortable about being down here. And I am even considering to...
[sound: wolf howl]
Yeah, well, I must admit that I'd feel even more comfortable if I knew what the heck that is. Am I crazy or did that sound like a wolf?
Hey, you know, my friends, and I do think of you listeners as my friends, I'd like to ask a favor, if you don't mind. About half an hour after the show is over, could you please call me, I mean, you know, on the regular number, the phone in the studio, and if I don't answer, just ask whoever does answer if they know the whereabouts of Peter Schickele, host of Schickele Mix, from PRI, Public Radio International.
Today's show is called Day of Wrath, Day of Yuckiness. We've been talking about using humor to fight fear. Without getting too pompous, I hope. Although I would like to assure you that I do have a psychology degree from Armchair University. It's right up there on the wall next to the Elvis on Velvet. Anyway, it's Tidbit Time here at the old haunted house. And we're going to hear the most unscary thing that supposedly has to do with something scary that I've ever heard.
We often make fun of what we're afraid of, but this is so cute and so cuddly that it was obviously designed for the whole family, including the baby still in the womb. We'll hear two versions, the original and a parody.
Joey Gaynor (recorded): Okay, boys, get ready to take me to the stratosphere!
[No speech for 88 s.]
The main title song for The Addams Family, first by its composer, Vic Mizzy, and then the Frank Sinatra version was by Joey Gaynor. Oh!
I wonder how long it's going to take me to get used to that boiler.
Oh boy. That ladies and gentlemen was the light going out. It is dark down here. It is very very dark. I don't know if it's something wrong with this lamp or it's the whole circuit or whatever. It doesn't matter. The point is I'm sitting here in a pitch black basement all alone except for perhaps a werewolf.
Okay, now let's just... I came prepared for this, actually. Here's the flashlight I brought along, and it's dead. Alright, I came prepared for that eventuality as well. Here is the candle, and here are the matches.
Okay, that's better. Well, uh, I guess the thing to do here is to get up and see if I can find any light switches or working circuit breakers or whatever.
Now this wall here seems to have three doors in it. Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it? Yeah, Bluebeard's Castle or something.
Okay, big boy, let's get a hold of yourself here. You won't find anything if you don't look. So let's see what's in the first door.
[music excerpt: Tchaikovsky, Nutcracker Suite, Arabian Dance (Spike Jones Is Murdering the Classics!); Spike Jones]
Huh. Imagine that, opening a door in your basement and finding Spike Jones and his whole band playing the Arabian dance from Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Okay, now, going along here, the next door is marked LHR.
LHR. Left-handed rivets? Little hangman's room? Lethal harpoon refills? Well, only one way to find out.
Oh, well, let's see, I've got some M&M's here. Here you go. Okay, happy Halloween. All right, so LHR obviously stands for Lambert, Hendricks & Ross. Halloween Spooks. Top-drawer Halloween Spooks. That first solo was particularly great, wasn't it? Now you know what it would be like to hear an owl scat-singing. Or was it a hound?
Hound-owl. They can sound sort of similar to each other, actually. I never thought about that. Haven't had the occasion to, really. "You ain't nothin' but a hound-owl." Okay, let's keep it together here, Peter. Gettin' a little flaky.
Here's the last door, and it's marked Hearse. You know, I think somebody told me once that there used to be a mortuary here where the station is now. Maybe this was an underground garage for the Hearse.
Hey, if there were another room, maybe it would have snakes in it, and the two rooms would be marked Hiss & Hearse.
Oh man, I hope this candle doesn't go out.
Okay, let's do it. The last door.
[music: Teene, "Curse of the Hearse" (Only In America); Terry Hearse]
Terry Teene. Boy, I haven't thought about him ever, pretty much. The curse of the hearse. It certainly lives on in that room. Well, uh, no light switches. I guess I'll, I guess I have to go over in this direction now, about which I am not overjoyed. This is the direction that werewolf howl was coming from. I just hope...
Whoa, there's a cold draft here.
Hey, here's that white area on the dirt floor. Oh man, there's a little wooden cross at the head of it. Let me bend down here. Let's see, it says M.L. Grum, RIP. M.L. Grum? He was the previous station manager here.
I always thought, oh no, the candle's gone out, oh brother, and I left the matches back at the table, rats, I mean, not rats, hey, I don't have any cheese on me guys, just this yucky candle, it's highly scented, you know, with that cloyingly sweet perfume, it smells like a urinal, I'm sure you wouldn't want to be even coming, oh no, it's coming closer!
[sound: freight elevator]
Well, what do you know? It's the freight elevator, all lit up, and the station manager's dog was stuck on it. Hey, he's the cutest little chihuahua you've ever seen. Come on over here, Napoleon. Here, do you want some M&M's? There you go. Hey, I'm going to be very nice to you and your owner, yessiree.
If you happen to be listening to the program, sir, Napoleon's just fine, and I'll be bringing him up as soon as I get off the air.
And by the way, I have a very short memory, sir. I mean, I can't remember anything that, I mean, this last hour has been so creepy and unsettling.
And as a matter of fact, I think it's time I'm gonna prop the freight elevator door open here so I've got light and and go back to the table here and Well, let's go out with some vampire music. We haven't had any vampires on the show We'll have first a song and then the overture to an opera called the vampire We won't have time to hear the whole thing, but we'll hear as much of it as we can and uh, well, I guess that's about it. We'll hear as much of it as we can.
[music: Sainte-marie, "The Vampire" (The Best of Buffy Sainte-Marie); Buffy Sainte-Marie]
Buffy Sainte-Marie singing her song The Vampire, and now we're hearing the overture to The Vampire by Heinrich Marschner, 1827. Schubert was still alive, and so, I'm happy to report, am I. This is the BBC Philharmonic under David Parry, and that's Schickele Mix for this week. About time, too. Our program is made possible with funds provided by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and by this radio station and its members.
I thank you, members, and so does Napoleon. 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 160.
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 are looking very good. See you next week.
[music: Marschner, “The Vampyr,” Overture; BBC Philharmonic/Parry]
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.