Four Musical Jokers

 

What makes a clarinet funny?
By itself, nothing,
as it's not really an odd looking instrument.
But placed in the wrong hands
it is capable of making the most distressing noises.
Especially if it's the smaller variety of clarinet
designed to squeal like a small animal.
That can be funny.
For a moment or two.
If you are ten. 

 

 

What about the bass drum?
Is that a funny instrument too?
Again, it depends.
It's not difficult to master,
but it does require a steady pulse.
Which for some drummers can be pretty variable

if they can't count to four or walk in a straight line.
When a bass drum's boom skips a cadence
and lands on the wrong beat
that usually provokes a guffaw.
But it's always the same punchline.
 

 

 

Now the trumpet is not an especially funny instrument.
It's more likely to annoy than charm.
But trumpet players do tend to be pranksters
who amuse themselves
by inventing childish tricks and silly gags.
A good reason to never sit in front of one.

 

 

But for shear entertainment value,
nothing beats a bassoon for buffoonery. 
This woodiest of woodwinds
seems designed in both shape and sound
to be played as one continuous musical farce
of funny stories and slapstick comedy.
It's always good for a laugh.

 

Today I introduce four maestros
of instrumental humor.

 

 

My first musical joker is Adam Wenk, der originelle Komiker ~ the original comedian. Dressed in formal white tie and tails, Herr Wenk is pictured in the center of a postcard triptych with his two comical characters on either side. The fellow on the left is playing a little E-flat clarinet, an instrument often added to brass bands to play the high melody line instead of a piccolo. His coat has decorative braid embroidered on the cuff so I think he is supposed to be a member of a town band. On the right, Wenk is costumed as a Tyrolean country bumpkin with leather breeches, vest, and feathered cap. He is holding a fishing pole or a livestock whip. I've found numerous examples of this type of theatrical character in German and Austrian postcards sometimes labeled as "Seppl" which, I think, translates to English as "rube" or "dope".  

The back of the postcard has a postmark of 9 July 1913 from Altenburg, a town in Thuringia, Germany, south of Leipzig. The printer was Nordische Kunstanstant Ernst Schmidt & Co. of Lübeck, a German port on the Baltic Sea.

 

 

 

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The second joker is Artur Heidenreich, Komiker whose postcard's design is identical to Adam Wenk's card. Herr Heidenreich stands in the center of three photos wearing a long wool coat and bowler hat. On the left he plays a goofy-looking German soldier carrying a marching bass drum. On the right he is dressed as a Feuerwehrmann or  fireman with a water/sand bucket and fireman's hard hat. It would appear that in the center photo his mustache is trimmed in the upturned Prussian style, but that was actually penciled in by the writer who added initials on the other characters' drum and bucket. 

 

This postcard was sent from Saarbrücken dated by the writer 12 November 1912. Saarbrücken, which translates as Saar bridges, is located on the Saar River and is the capital of the state of Saarland, Germany. Today Germany's border with France, which does not follow the river, is about 2.7 miles (4.35 km) west of the city. But in 1912, the border was officially about 40 miles (60 km) further west, as Germany claimed the Alsace-Lorraine region of France, now called Alsace-Moselle, as part of the German Empire after capturing it from the Second French Empire in the Franco-Prussian War of 1871. In 1914 this area would be hotly contested during the Great War.

 

 

 

 

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The third musical joker is Carl Bergelt, Sächsischer Komiker, whose name is captioned on the top photo in a quartet of images from his act. Herr Bergelt appears a young sophisticate posed with his smoky cigarette. But on stage he played a dejected looking dolt who is pictured making hapless faces and playing a cornet. It's interesting that his instrument has piston valves instead of rotary valves which were the standard for brass instruments in Germany. 

For some reason the Free State of Saxony was noted for its Sächsischer comics, as this was a common regional appellation used by German comedians. This postcard was never mailed but bears the imprint of a Berlin photographer's studio on the back. The printing style resembles other German entertainer's postcards from the 1910-1920 decade. 

 

 

 

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The fourth jester is Hans Meppe, Original Instrumental Humorist und Charakter Komiker from Leipzig, the largest city in Saxony. Herr Meppe's smiling portrait is shown in a group of six photos of his act. One photo shows him portraying a fireman climbing a brick wall and another as a raggedy tramp trying to hang himself. The others demonstrate his versatility as an instrumentalist with wacky characters playing a bassoon, a clarinet, and an oboe. In the image with bassoon, Meppe seems to be inflating a balloon attached to the end of the instrument. While this seems a perfectly funny concept, as a practical matter it must have been very hard to do. A bassoon is about 8 feet long and it would require superhuman air pressure to make a sound through the little double reed and also blow up a balloon.

The postcard has a postmark from Essen of 22 February 1918 or maybe 1919, but I believe it is the earlier date. By coincidence this Sächsischer comic's postcard was sent to Saarbrücken.

 

 

 

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Humor is possibly the most ephemeral of human emotions. A joke has a shelf life that depends entirely on current events, fashion trends, and a comedian's insight into the public's fickle emotions of the day. Unlike music which can gain merit on repetition, a joke usually loses laughs the more it is repeated. Humor easily goes stale. 

Back in February, I devoted a post to this subject in Two Wise Guys. When we see pictures of comedians from earlier times like these four musical jokers, we are forced to imagine their funny jokes,  their inevitable puns, and their clever double entendre humor. Sadly, no one wrote down their wisecracks, transcribed their 10 minute stage act, or recorded their droll stories for posterity. All we have left of the laughter they produced are little images displayed on old faded postcards. They don't seem very funny now. 

Except for one thing, their musical instruments. These comical props featured music, the universal language, as a way to tell a joke. We may be unable to ever hear their funny stories or clever wisecracks, but seeing their instruments at least lets us imagine the awkward tunes, the silly mannerisms, and the ridiculous sounds that these Komickers made. That's entertainment.

 

Here is a performance of Sid Millward & The Nitwits,
a British comedy act which appeared in 1970
on a popular German television show
hosted by Rudi Carrell, a Dutch presenter.
I think everyone will recognize that this band of looney musicians
follows in the footsteps of the jokers I've featured today.

 

 

 

Another band of crazy musicians,
Spike Jones and his City Slickers band,
is better known in America where their madcap music 
became a big hit on radio, film, and television.
In this so-called Tchaikovsky Medley from The Spike Jones Show,

which ran on CBS in the summers of 1957, 1960 and 1961,
Spike Jones and his band masterfully demonstrate
how any squeak, bang, or squawk

will work as a joke's punchline.  

 

 

 

 

 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where old family photo albums are a dime a dozen.