Although I regard Igor Stravinsky as the greatest composer of the twentieth century, he was closer to a hack with a headache when he concocted his oddball Circus Polka. The work was commissioned by John Ringling North in a whimsically Barnumesque from of mind, for a three ring ballet of elephants. JRN talked another one of those infuriatingly talented Russians, dancer George Balanchine, into choreographing the work -- in consultation with head elephant man, Walter McClain.
I have never been able to track down a recording of the music, until now, by merely You Tubing it. So, finally, 78 years after the number's inception, I listened last night with baited breath, only to be left irked by how aggressively unmusical it is. Just to be sure, I played it again, for sometimes, the second time around will grab you. But Stravinsky's frenetic, heavy handed composition only shrieked and sputtered there in the sawdust like a dying dog gasping for breath.
And then I played a U.S. Marine Band's rendition in 1998, more interesting because orchestrated -- but who said that lipstick on a pig will do much good? I played yet another pianist's rendition, this one the worst.
Killer notes
This novelty is close to awful -- a mess of unruly, refusing-to-be-melodic notes jumping all over each other in fits and starts. Heavy handed all the way through, it opens with an infectious melody that goes nowhere fast, and closes with the composer shamefully quoting a few bars of familiar music superior to what is otherwise on display here. In fact, when the Great One's ditty first hit Sarasota ears during spring rehearsals, rumors of plagiarism quickly spread through town.
Judged by Variety, "so weird, that it does not belong in a circus," Merle Evans told me in an interview for my book Behind the Big Top, "It was the hardest music I ever played. One bar was three-four, and the next bars four-four ... The boys didn't like that Stravinsky thing, and I don't think the elephants liked it either." After all these years, how his words resonate.
Stravinsky was not exactly a song and dance man at the piano, even though North's idea made for brilliant publicity. Had he instead recruited someone like Richard Rodgers, a classic circus tune might have come out of it.
Perilous Pachyderm Premiere
The three and a half minute work premiered at Madison Square Garden in 1942, where the circus opened one of its most memorably staged and costumed shows -- the sawdust rings tinted in various hues -- drawing raves and winning even the favor of esteemed theater critic Brooks Atkinson. The elephant ballet itself garnered split reactions. And if it did not close down the show that season, it may be a big reason why the musicians went out on strike. The show made-do by playing phonograph records, but what for the then unrecorded Circus Polka?
Jane Johnson, secretary to North, recalled excitedly hearing a song on the radio that sounded a lot like the music. She called the radio station, to be told the piece was by Chopin. When I interviewed her about this, she could not recall the title. They found a copy in a nearby record store and played it for the rest of the tour.
Can you name that tune?
But by another account, Stravinsky's alleged plagiarism drew from Dance of the Hours by Amilcare Ponchielli, composed for his 1876 opera La Guiconda and featured in Walt Disney's 1940 film, Fantasia. I have played this work, too, but find no connections. There is that distinct melody in my mind that I will one day hear on the radio, or hum for someone who will recognize it and tell me the name. Maybe you know? I'll let Anonymous through on this one.
Given the work's daunting complexity (did Igor have in mind driving the musicians mad?), it is a stretch, no, make that fun trying to imagine how it sounded from the Ringling bandstand. Perhaps, Merle and windjammers were able, at least, to make it gloriously bad by exaggerating its rowdy spirit with true bombastic force.
9.13.20
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