Austrian concert programme — II & I

Johann Strauss II (1825-1899)

Waldmeister: Overture

Josef Strauss (1827-1870)

Moulinet Polka française, Op.57

Johann Strauss II

Im Krapfenwandl Polka française, Op.336

Eduard Strauss (1835-1916)

Bahn frei! Polka-schnell, Op.45

Josef Strauss

Feuerfest! Polka française, Op.269

Johann Strauss II

Banditen-Galopp Polka, Op.378

Eduard Strauss

Mit Extrapost Polka-schnell, Op.259

Johann Strauss II

Der Zigeunerbaron: Entrance March

Josef Strauss

Heiterer Mut Polka française, Op.281

Johann Strauss II

Explosionen Polka, Op.43

Morgenblätter Walzer, Op.279

Josef Strauss

Auf Ferienreisen Polka-schnell, Op.133

Jokey Polka-schnell, Op.278

Johann Strauss II

Tritsch-Tratsch Polka, Op.214

Johann Strauss I (1804-1849)

Cachucha Galopp, Op.97

Johann Strauss II

Electrophor Polka-schnell, Op.297

In the ballroom, however, the waltz did not, and could not, have the floor all to itself. No ball could survive on triple-time dances alone and the characteristic gliding and swaying of the waltz was all the more effective for being offset by rather less elegant but no less exhilarating dances in duple time like the gallop, the quadrille and the polka. At one time, indeed, round about the middle of the century, the polka was at least as popular as the waltz.

Originating as a folk dance in the villages of Czechoslovakia, the polka took little more than ten years from its arrival in Prague in the late 1830s to spread to virtually every major city in Europe, not excluding Vienna. The Strauss family responded to the demand by turning out literally hundreds of polkas and played a major part in the very necessary cultivation of different varieties of the dance, like the vigorous Polka-schnell (or quick polka), the slower, more graceful Polka française and the hybrid Polka-mazurka. What the polka lacked in purely musical interest - it could never, by its very nature, compete with the waltz in this respect - it made up for in rhythmic zest, catchy tunes, clever titles, and witty allusions to contemporary developments in everything from social manners to modes of travel and technology.

The value of the polka or the gallop in offsetting the elegance of the waltz is most effectively illustrated by the Overture to Johann II’s last-but-one operetta, Waldmeister, which was first performed at the Theater an der Wien in 1895. The story - about a Saxon village that falls victim to the intoxicating properties of a drink made from wine and woodruff (“Waldmeister” in German) - need not concern us. What is important is the hit number of the show, the waltz song Trau, schau, wem? (“Look before you leap”) that is also the main theme of the Overture, where it occurs over and over again. Although it is dressed in different orchestral colours on each occasion, to sustain its seductive attractions it also needs the contrasting duple-time tunes that replace it in the middle, just as it needs the concluding gallop to divert it from one too many star appearances.

If Johann Strauss II was the Waltz King, his younger brother Josef was the Polka Prince. His Moulinet (“Little Mill”), its two beats in the bar clicking with mechanical precision in the percussion, is a charming example of the gently paced Polka française. So too is Johann II’s slightly more ambitious Im Krapfenwaldl , a tribute to a local beauty spot, except when it was performed in the Strauss pavilion near St Petersburg, in which case it was identified as In Pavlovsk Woods. There was clearly no shortage of birdsong in either place. For reasons which will soon become clear, it is known in this country as the “Cuckoo Polka.”

Johann II’s still younger brother Eduard was a master of the quick polka, particularly if it had anything to do with high-speed travel: Mit Dampf (“Steam up”), Auf and davon (“Up and Away”) Ohne Bremse (“No Brakes”) are only a few of his fantasies in locomotion. Bahn frei (“Clear the Tracks”), which was written for a railway officials’ ball in 1869, offers the dancers a bumpy ride beginning with the screech of a steam whistle and proceeding at full speed to a short halt and another blast of the whistle. Written for a similar occasion, Josef’s Feuerfest (“Fireproof”) Polka celebrates the manufacture of F.Wertheim & Co’s 20,00th fireproof safe: metal strikes metal, sparks fly, and a particularly engaging polka rolls down the production line. Johann II’s Banditen-Galopp was written not for a bandits’ ball but for the fictional bandits - lethally armed, it seems - in his operetta Prinz Methusalem, Dangerous though Johann’s bandits clearly are, however, the coachmen of Eduard’s Mit Extrapost (“Express Mail”) could surely outride them.

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Though not to be taken seriously and though often based on very silly stories - Der Zigeunerbaron (“The Gypsy Baron”) being one of the silliest of all - Strauss operettas were not done on the cheap. Before the first performance of Der Zigeunerbaron at the Theater an der Wien in 1885 the composer stipulated that “the Entrance March in the third act must be imposing. About 80-100 soldiers (on foot, on horse), camp-followers in Hungarian, Viennese (and Spanish) dress, common-folk, children with shrubs and flowers - which latter they strew before the returning soldiers - must appear.” The music for the march, which is not so much grandiose as briskly and even cheerfully military, is one of many illustrations that Johann II was just as accomplished on the parade ground as he was in the ballroom.

Heiterer Mut (“In Good Cheer”) is another example of Josef’s ability to charm his way through a slow polka without recourse to acoustic tricks of the kind that resound before, throughout and at the end of Johann II’s Explosionen (“Explosions”) Polka. Johann II was more rewardingly employed in extending himself in a ten-minute waltz sequence like Morgenblätter (“Morning Papers”). After a short introduction, it proceeds through a whole series of waltz tunes towards a climax that recalls the two best of them and a coda that neatly rounds the whole thing off. Offenbach’s Abendblätter (“Evening Papers”), written for the same Concordia Ball in 1864, didn’t stand a chance in comparison.

All the Joseph Strauss polkas heard so far in this programme have been slow ones. Auf Ferienreisen (“Off on Holiday”) and the Jokey (“Jockey”) Polka - one of them motivated by a posthorn, the other by a whip - are both brilliant examples of the quick variety. Even so, there is no better Polka-schnell than Johann II’s Tritsch-Tratsch (“Tittle-Tattle”) which, travelling as it does at the speed of gossip, is at least as exciting as any of them and far more stylish than most.

The best known example of the Spanish cachucha - or the best known in this country at least - is a chorus in The Gondoliers (“Dance a cachucha”) that refers to “the reckless delight of that wildest of dances!” Something of that recklessness must have inspired the older Johann Strauss who, in tribute to the dancer Fanny Elssler, contrived in his Cachucha-Galopp to combine the rhythms of two wild dances within an hour before the ball it was intended for. According to someone who was there, “it was performed without rehearsal, accorded exceptional applause and repeated three times.” If there was no Fanny Elssler to turn them on later in the century, there was by then the stimulus of electricity, as Johann II’s Electrophor Polka - which is not, of course, to be confused with his Elektro-magnetische Polka - so galvanically demonstrates.

Gerald Larner©