Brian Marshall delves into Texas Polish-Jewish Connections

"If it had not been for a Jewish merchant we could have ended up in New Jersey or some other God awful place!!!!!!"

That's the email title I got from Texas Polish Dance Band Fiddler Brian Marshall, and it's meant as a compliment. Evidently he's found that his kin folk, along with most of the second wave of immigration of Texas Polonia were encouraged to move to Texas by one James Meyer Levi, a Polish Jew and Confederate Civil War Veteran.

He continues: "New Waverly, Texas, is located thirteen miles south of Huntsville on State Highway 75 and Interstate Highway 45 in southern Walker County. The Houston and Great Northern Railroad Company founded it, after the residents of what became Old Waverly refused to grant the railroad a right of way through their community. A group of Walker County cotton planters met in a general store at Old Waverly, Texas on September 19, 1866, to discuss their problems in securing workers. Meyer Levi, a merchant who had various holdings in the state, owned the store.

There were twelve planters who gathered at the meeting for the purpose of recruiting laborers from Europe. The members established themselves as ‘The Waverly Emigration Society” and commissioned Meyer Levy to travel to Europe to recruit 150 “foreign laborers” to work on their lands. Each planter requested a certain number of workers with specific skills. The planters agreed to play for the passage of the immigrants to Texas and to play the men $90, $100, and $110 for their work in their work in their first, second, and third years in America. The women would receive $20 less for their labors each year. Meyer Levy agreed to go to his native Poland and recruit workers. Forty-five families totally 143 persons arrived in New York on April 9, 1867. After a short difficulty with travel funding, they then traveled by ocean from New York to Galveston, Texas.

In 1870 the Great Northern Railroad Company laid its’ tracks ten miles west of Old Waverly and set aside a town site know as Waverly Station. The new community attracted many residents of Old Waverly, and the new town’s name was soon changed to New Waverly. Because so many of the original group of Polish immigrants followed to New Waverly it was called the “Cradle of Polish Immigration” in this part of Texas. While most of the first Polish immigrants made their homes in New Waverly, many eventually migrated to the surrounding counties."

Visit Polish Texans website for more information about this fascinating Polish Diaspora community.

A YouTube Peek from the stage in Cracow

Courtesy clarinetist Christian Dawid, here's what it kind of looks like when you're playing in front of 20K Poles during the Festival of Jewish Culture, in Cracow Poland

In this clip, I'm playing a little Besson Bb Tenor Horn that I borrowed from Sanne Möricke, trying to hang onto the brass band skronk of Konsonans Resto:

And here I am playing a borrowed tuba backing up a solo Jewlia Eisenberg on an old Negro Spiritual

(??!! Yup, this is what happens at this thing...Seems like the less Jewish the music, the happier the crowds...)

One well placed RPG round and a fairly large chunk of the modern Jewish music scene would be history. Just thinking out loud, mind you.

A Milestone of sorts...

In a review of the recent Festival of Jewish Culture in Krakow, I was listed as a "ususal suspect."

I'm going to take that as a compliment as I don't rate such an honorific even in my hometown of Austin....

Random images from my the cell phone, 2.0

Ah, show business!! The marquee for a Ridgetop Syncopators gig on 6th Street.

Best damn Gorditas, ever.
I'm am not a huge fan of the Tejano meat stuffed "Lard Cookie," but at $2.75 per I had to try 'em. It's a new joint on far East 6th street and I forgot the name, but I reckon my belly could drive straight there.

So amazing a meal at the Walburg Restaurant, that I literally forgot to stop and take a picture. I go to southern German and Austria more often than I'd like to admit, but in my humble opinion, this is the finest squarehead grub I've been served. Well, not really served, as it's an ALL YOU CAN EAT buffet. Homemade kraut and cabbage, Weiner schnitzel and local brauten. Washed down with a Warsteiner Heffe Dunkel. I play there regularly with either a bluegrass band made up of German expatriates, or a Polish polka combo lead by a guy best known for Tex-Mex and Cajun music. Its true, lead a very interesting life.

The "Hercules" plate at Niko Niko on Montrose in Houston TX. Long my favorite paper plate Greek joint in Texas, I stopped by the recently remodeled (and always packed to the gills) joint and noticed a new menu item. "We dare you to finish it.." A poor bet indeed. Besides playing killer real-deal Greek music over the house speakers, they have the best advertising graphics as well, mostly cartoon images of the owners ever increasing stomach.("We're expanding...")

OK, I have raved about Fuegos Authentic Mexican for many months. The local papers recently picked up on them as well and gave them what I can only characterize as an appropriate description of this Mom, Pop and Daughter operation. I get the same thing every time I go, but in a fit of curiosity, I went for their "Fat Burger." It is just as the review says: the best burger in Austin. (I can't believe I said that, but it really is so.) The perfect marriage of chuck and ground, I could not get my ample maw around it.

Here's a fine Polish Gorale ensemble that appeared at the Houston Polish Festival last week. They were accompanying a large folk dance dance troupe that had come down from Chicago (Góralski Zespół Pieśni i Tańca "Holni" pod patronatem parafii Św. Krzyża). The local Poles really didn't know what to make of them, as they are mostly descended from the Lowlands and share the traditional Polish distrust of the hillbillies of the Tatras Mountains. Like the dancers these boys here are are FOB (fresh off the boat in the local vernacular) and didn't speak a word of English. Brian Marshall and his boys waited patiently for them to clear out so they could crank up the Texas Lowland fiddle sound.


Me? I thought they were ASS kickingly good. What's hard to see in this picture is the "maly bassy," or small bass; a three string cello actually played with clubby underhand bass bow. The dude could rock it and along with the twin rhythm fiddle section it was a mighty. mighty skronk. You can hardly make it out but one of them is playing a regularly tuned fiddle left handed. (Follow this link for some nice pictures from the event.)

Confronting Institutionalized Anti-Semitism with Laughter

I mean, really, what else can you do?

One of the highlights/low points of shopping in the old city center of Krakow Poland is being confronted with little carved figurines of the traditional Polish depiction of a Jew: a hook nose Hassid counting gold. The Poles for their part simply explain that it's a symbol of good luck and abundance. Like when a merchant frames his first dollar, Poles will give a new couple or a new business a little Jew doll clutching a bag of gold as an expression of good fortune.




Uh huh.

So popular these little dolls that now they even have mass produced plastic versions with the phrase "Na Kase" (to the bank) emblazoned on them. I choose one of these, and a ridiculous local folk dress hat, as my souvenirs. I guess to be somewhat generous, to be anti-Semitic formally, you would need Jews around in the first place and that question has been handily settled, not but 30 km from the center of Krakow in fact. I highly doubt that I could get away with a displaying a drunk Mexican doll at my place of business, but actually I do recall buying such from a street vendor in Piedras Negras once. Whatever, it's still creepy and the only response I can muster today is laughter.

As it happens, the little plastic Jew I picked out bears more than a passing resemblance to reed man Alex Kontorovich. Backstage before the big concert, and single Grosz in hand, he deigns to pose with the doll for Lorin Sklamberg's camera. Witness:

A good likeness, no?

Well, we all gleefully gather around the display of Lorin's digital camera to see the results, when the Festival's staff photographer snaps this candid shot:


Can he know what we looking at? Can he know what is going through our minds, especially the fat dude in the funny local hat? Why are we laughing? To keep from crying maybe?

The folks who run the Festival of Jewish Culture in Krakow who are putting on this shindig are wonderful. Moreover they have made amazingly great strides in reminding their countrymen of the integral and vibrant Jewish community that once thrived there for centuries. But as long as there's a picture of a Jew counting gold inside every Money Exchange counter ("Kantor," not Cantor, dig?) and you can buy these insulting figurines, and moreover you see no problem with it, then there's quite a bit more inner work to be done in Poland.

Amen.

More pictures from Krakow..

Here's a series of photos from the Festival of Jewish Culture in Krakow, sent to me by photographer Wojciech Karlinski:

Sound check kibbitzing with Alex Kontorovich and Dan Blacksberg
Great musicians, even better pals.

Witness the glory that is the mighty Jupiter model 590S Sousaphone. This beast was the sole foundation of the Grand Final concert, providing a solid pedal note for an amassed ensemble of over 40 musicians. Couldn't have done it without it.

And for your edification, this years ridiculous local headwear.
Only the latest in a long series.

Rehearsing with Frank London on the banks of the River Wistula. What you can't see from this angle is the 8 piece Brazilian drum ensemble that Frank is conducting. Yes kids, it's not an act. That's how he looks off stage as well.

Here's a link to the New York Times article that ran about this event.
For the record, as the Times did not note it, that's Steven Weintraub leading the dance and Lorin Sklamberg on the vocals. Oh, I was the bassist for the dance band that is pictured here as well.

Krakow: Jews, Food, Absinthe, More Food, Madness

Notes from the Festival of Jewish Culture in Krakow Poland.

OK,

Hard to get it all written down, what with jet lag and constant work and such.

Good news starts before the trip however. After making some discreet inquiries and quite a bit of convincing (black belt buttering up in fact) the fine folks at Jupiter Band Instruments allowed me to take one of their brand new, professional Sousaphones on my travels this summer. I am beyond words in gratitude, as my beloved 1890's Cerveny BBb Helicon has finally been repaired for the last time. One more clumsily baggage handler and she'll never toot nor blat again, and I just couldn't live with that prospect. In her place I have an amazing Jupiter Deluxe model 590S, silver plated, 4 valve sousaphone with hard case. Couldn't be a better start for a tour.

So I leave the Austin Airport at 11am on a Tuesday and I arrive in John Paul II Airport Krakow at 1pm the following Wednesday. This is what happens when you live in Texas where there are no direct flights to just about anywhere. I'm somewhat used to it by now, but a whole day in a plane or waiting to board one can grind one down. I took a guitar with me to kill the layover time and it was worth the extra baggage.

When I do land, I'm greeted by a very friendly driver who assures me that I am to be taken to my favorite hotel on the whole Earth (Hotel Eden, central Kazimerz) and that I should just take it easy and rest. Well, I "rested" plenty in a cramped airplane seat and seeing as I came all the way, I suggested that they take me straight to Jill Gellerman's Hassidic Dance Class. They have been languishing without a bassist for several days and playing for Jill's class was the highlight of my Klez Kamp experience last year. The band is an ad hoc assemblage of musicians pulled from the many ensembles performing at the festival that week. I am greeted by old pals Frank London, Sanne Molricke, Christian Dawid, Dan Blacksburg and by a few new friends Martin Van Deven (Beyond the Pale) and Dan Kahn. Rather than make the already strapped and harried festival staff locate me a bass to play, I have brought along a borrowed Ashbory bass. It looks and plays like a toy, but by golly, through an amp it makes a damn fine bass sound. As the airlines continue their part on the War on Art, we bassists will have to become more comfortable with alternatives like this in the future.

But I digress, onto the food.

So later, I find Cookie Segelstein and PJ Horowitz out the the street foraging for dinner, we snag Frank as well who suggests a place not far where they dress up the waitresses in ridiculous costumes and pump Chopin into the dinning room at full volume. Down the block and up a piece on Ulica Midowa we find Polokowski's. It's as big as a postage stamp and packed to the gills, but everything looks good and smells even better. In deference to my buds back in Texas Polonia, I go for the Cabbage Rolls and Garlic soup. Not as good as the kind I get at Brian Marshall's place in Tomball TX, but damn fine all the same. We will return here again and again.

Of special note was a Pirogi shack 2 blocks the opposite direction which offered many variations of the classic Polish staple, called I think "Pirogi." I laughed when drummer Scott Kettner ordered the "Mexican" pirogi, but stopped chuckling when he offered me one and found it to be wonderful. I stuck to the traditional meat, cheese and fruit varieties. Once again, this restaurant was tiny, smaller than the smallest taco counter back home, but packed to capacity and damn cheap.

As this is a Jewish Cultural event, we make a point of finding as much trafe as possible. Here's what's left of my very first Pork Shank, split between Frank and myself:


It was amazing.

So most of my time was spent rehearsing for the grand finale concert, a concept Frank outlined with his last CD Carnival Conspiracy. On the record Frank collaborated with Scott's Maracatu drum ensemble, but the budget for this trip only allowed for Scott. To make up the rest Frank located a Brazillian Samba School from Warsaw called "monkey rythmn" in Polish. Now understand, Samba and Maracatu are both from Brazil, but they are as different if you will as Ashkenazic is from Sephardic. All Jews maybe, but not the same. To our great fortune, we find the Polish drummers have done their home work and learned the rhythms of Frank's CD. Every day, we go down to the banks of the river and played through the material, creating arrangements on the fly. When I'm not there, I'm either playing for the Hassidic Dance class or the big dance party on Thursday night. Otherwise, it's seeing the other concerts or jamming until 6am every night at the Alchemia Club.

Then there was the Absiynt House.Actually, the less said about this, the better. We were in a foreign country and all. Let's just say I spent a lot of time here.

Needless to say after a few days of the above, it all kind of runs together. So here's some random scenes:

Folks in Krakow seem to like to dude up their wheels. Dig this on the hood of a FIAT. I was entranced actually.

I guess if you're going to import a mess of Jews into your town for a week, it's only prudent to have a few Cossacks around as well, just to keep everything in balance. You know, just in case. I mean, I'm not overstaying my welcome when presented with a dude like this.

From his instrument and the markings on his kit, I'd reckon he's a Ukrainian and that's a bandura. But I could be mistaken. He had a lovely gruff voice, somewhere around the Howlin' Wolf range, but he seemed beat down and weary of plucking out ballads in the street for the tourists. He got a hand full of Zlotys from me though, hoping he'd pass my hotel room during the next pogrom....

Here's young trombonist Dan Blacksburg contributing both to the local economy and to his own adult onset type 2 Diabetes with some kind of sugar whipped onto a stick. I passed opting to use my caloric intake instead for the many, many Zubrowska's I would be having later.

The next few scenes are from my camera, taken onstage while we playing the a modern arrangement of a hassidic niggun dedicated to Rebbe Nachman, now set to the tune to the infamous "Numa-Numa" song. Which we played to a stunned audience of over 25,000, over and over again, finally marching out into the crowd. Polish TV was there to capture it all, so see if I ain't lying....

To my left, you'll see Beyond the Pale's mandolinist Eric Stein, the Polish Brazilian drummers and Steve Weintraub dancing.

Ahead of me, cantor Ben Zion Miller, a rapper who's name I cannot recall (but he was wonderful, a member of SoCalled's crew,) Micheal Alpert and Jeff Warschauer and a really big crowd...

And then there's me, with my shinny new horn and a TV camera man I nearly killed twice. You can see Rob Schwimmer over my shoulder playing, I shit you not, a theremin. Absolutely essential to the Numa-Numa song.

Here's a great shot of the Klezmer Brass All Stars set from the Festival website:

And then 8 hours later, it was off to the Montreal Jazz Festival.....