Humour and Classical Music
7. Johann Strauss II’s Perpetuum Mobile
by David Barker
The 19th century seems to be rather slim pickings in the “humour” genre. Am I over-interpreting a lack of success in finding suitable works as meaning that composers were only concerned with wanting to demonstrate their deeper feelings? Johann Strauss II is not what one would describe as the archetypal Romantic composer, so this very obviously joke work is perhaps the exception that proves the rule.
The Perpetuum mobile (1861) is something of a novelty in his output in that it is neither a waltz or a polka, or indeed a dance of any type. Instead, it is a none too subtle dig at certain musicians of the day whose main preoccupation was showmanship, rather than musicality. Now Strauss was definitely the showman, but the enduring affection for his music shows that he successfully balanced the two.
Strauss’s intention is made very clear from the start – the subtitle is A Musical Joke, recalling Mozart’s work of the previous century. It consists of variations on a very brief (eight bars), banal and repetitive theme, with solo parts given to rather unlikely instruments – piccolo, bassoon and triangle. The melody emphasises speed and dexterity, and there is a huge out-of-the-blue crescendo midway through that seems to evoke the Haydn surprise. Then there is the ending, or indeed the lack of it – it just keeps going on and on, hence the title. This, of course, brings to mind Dudley Moore’s struggles to “escape” from his Beethoven parody. It is left up to the conductor as to how to finish – the score reads “Fine ad lib”.
With a studio recording, the easiest approach is simply to stop (for example, Leonard Bernstein with the NY Philharmonic on Sony), but some conductors at least make the point that it is a work with no defined ending. Georg Szell, not someone I associate with light-heartedness, calls a halt to his version with the Cleveland Orchestra by saying “And so forth” (Sony), as does Karl Böhm (in German, of course – Und so weiter) in Vienna (DG). Willi Boskovsky (Decca) says “And we could still do it again”.
I found a few filmed performances on YouTube (all associated with New Year celebrations), where some effort was made to illustrate the “problem” of the ending. Herbert von Karajan in the 1987 Vienna New Year’s Day concert throws his hands up in mock despair and signals for the orchestra to stop (YouTube). Daniel Barenboim at the 1997 Berlin New Year’s Eve concert keeps playing until the clock strikes twelve, and then toasts the audience with a glass of champagne (YouTube); it must be said that it is a quite ponderous performance. I liked the theatricality and humour of a performance from the strings of the WDR Orchestra (scaled down for Covid reasons) in Köln, where Juraj Cizmarovic directs from the violin à la Strauss (YouTube). They end a little tamely by faltering into silence, though with smiles all round. Matthias Kendlinger, directing the K&K Philharmoniker at the 2009 Berlin New Year’s Concert, turns to the audience with a big smile and speaks the now familiar “Und so weiter” (twice) (YouTube). At the 2013 New Year concert in Odessa, Hobart Earle poetically wafts the melody off into the air with a wave of his fingers (YouTube).
The last word on this goes to today’s inheritor of Johann Strauss’s mantle, André Rieu. At a concert in Vienna to mark the 100th anniversary of Strauss’s death in 1999, Rieu also takes the “And so forth” approach, but the performance is well and truly, and totally appropriately, ended by a huge burp (and that’s being polite) from the bassoon (YouTube). Whether you like André Rieu or not, really seems the closest to the composer’s intentions.
