George Balanchine's Circus Polka
Pennsylvania Ballet up to now has been a self-styled "Balanchine company." The intrepid Mr. B certainly made his mark on the art of ballet, whatever your opinion of that mark may be.
Nonetheless, in spite of the best efforts of the Balanchine Foundation, much of his work has been lost. For instance, the original Circus Polka.
The work as it now stands is for ballet students, performing in a mock circus ring under the command of a circus ringmaster. This version was set by Jerome Robbins when he became ballet master at New York City Ballet. The original work, by Balanchine himself, was considerably different. This work is now lost.
Nonetheless, in spite of the best efforts of the Balanchine Foundation, much of his work has been lost. For instance, the original Circus Polka.
The work as it now stands is for ballet students, performing in a mock circus ring under the command of a circus ringmaster. This version was set by Jerome Robbins when he became ballet master at New York City Ballet. The original work, by Balanchine himself, was considerably different. This work is now lost.
The original Circus Polka was commissioned by John Ringling North, who in the early 1940s inherited control of the Greatest Show on Earth from his uncle, John Ringling. Other family members had shares in the show too, and North was in a power struggle with one of his cousins, Robert Ringling, for control of the circus itself. Outside the big top, World War Two was raging. Hitler's armies had overrun Europe, and the US Navy base at Pearl Harbor had been all but destroyed by a Japanese air raid.
President Roosevelt considered the entertainment industry to be vital to the war effort, for keeping up morale. Members of the Armed Forces in uniform were given free admission to the Greatest Show on Earth, as was anyone who purchased a one hundred dollar bond on Liberty Bond night. The Ringling show was given special permission to continue touring. Even so, military train traffic took priority. While the circus had their own railroad cars, the locomotives and train crews came from the railroads over which they traveled. The circus trains often stood on sidings when the railroads had to move military special trains, or had to be rerouted due to heavy military traffic on the main lines. Many stands had their opening matinee and closing evening shows canceled because of transportation problems.
Ringling North approached Balanchine to choreograph a spectacle for the 1942 season. Balanchine in turn approached Igor Stravinsky for an original score. Stravinsky agreed, with one condition.
Ringling North wanted an elephant ballet. Stravinsky agreed to score it only if it was for a young elephant.
Circus Polka, for a Young Elephant.
It's about a five minute piece of work, but it isn't a polka, and isn't entirely pleasant to listen to. At the very end it does resemble a march, only because Stravinsky incorporates Schubert's Marche Militaire No.1.
Eventually, Modoc, the star elephant, learned the choreography. Modoc then helped the other elephants learn the dance, while Balanchine worked with the Ringling "bally girls".
President Roosevelt considered the entertainment industry to be vital to the war effort, for keeping up morale. Members of the Armed Forces in uniform were given free admission to the Greatest Show on Earth, as was anyone who purchased a one hundred dollar bond on Liberty Bond night. The Ringling show was given special permission to continue touring. Even so, military train traffic took priority. While the circus had their own railroad cars, the locomotives and train crews came from the railroads over which they traveled. The circus trains often stood on sidings when the railroads had to move military special trains, or had to be rerouted due to heavy military traffic on the main lines. Many stands had their opening matinee and closing evening shows canceled because of transportation problems.
Ringling North approached Balanchine to choreograph a spectacle for the 1942 season. Balanchine in turn approached Igor Stravinsky for an original score. Stravinsky agreed, with one condition.
Ringling North wanted an elephant ballet. Stravinsky agreed to score it only if it was for a young elephant.
Circus Polka, for a Young Elephant.
It's about a five minute piece of work, but it isn't a polka, and isn't entirely pleasant to listen to. At the very end it does resemble a march, only because Stravinsky incorporates Schubert's Marche Militaire No.1.
Eventually, Modoc, the star elephant, learned the choreography. Modoc then helped the other elephants learn the dance, while Balanchine worked with the Ringling "bally girls".
Circus Polka was billed as a spectacle featuring fifty elephants and fifty ballerinas. This was Ringling ballyhoo. According to the archives at Circus World Museum, the show in 1942 only carried about forty elephants at the start of the season. In the accompanying photo of the elephants in their "conga line" I count thirty-two. You can see one girl being carried by the lead elephant. Two other elephants also carried girls. The other dancers can be seen as blurs of movement in the center ring.
For the grand opening of the season in New York's Madison Square Garden, Vera Zorina, who was Balanchine's wife at the time, performed with Modoc in an "improvised" dance to Invitation to the Dance. The bally girls were augmented by other New York showgirls, hired by Balanchine for the New York stand. The opening night performance was a special Armed Forces benefit, hence the additional dancers and the special introduction. From the beginning, though, the piece had problems.
Circus bandleader Merle Evans, an accomplished cornet player, had his doubts about David Raskin's complex orchestration. Ballet Russe star Fredric Franklin was in the audience for opening night in New York, and is said to have recalled that the elephants got nervous and finished ahead of the music. What's more likely to have happened is that the band fell behind the elephants. Bandleader Evans always had an eye on the action in the rings, and his method for accompanying dancing animals was to let the animals set the tempo and make sure the band played to them. In this case, the band was struggling with Stravinsky's music, which was unlike anything in their regular repertoire. They demanded a raise in pay, and when Ringling North refused, went on strike. It's said the whole show had to perform several stands using gramophone records. Since the Circus Polka had not been recorded, the elephant ballet could not be performed while the band was on strike.
On a less disruptive note, some of the elephant handlers weren't entirely thrilled at having to dress their bull elephants in tutus.
For the grand opening of the season in New York's Madison Square Garden, Vera Zorina, who was Balanchine's wife at the time, performed with Modoc in an "improvised" dance to Invitation to the Dance. The bally girls were augmented by other New York showgirls, hired by Balanchine for the New York stand. The opening night performance was a special Armed Forces benefit, hence the additional dancers and the special introduction. From the beginning, though, the piece had problems.
Circus bandleader Merle Evans, an accomplished cornet player, had his doubts about David Raskin's complex orchestration. Ballet Russe star Fredric Franklin was in the audience for opening night in New York, and is said to have recalled that the elephants got nervous and finished ahead of the music. What's more likely to have happened is that the band fell behind the elephants. Bandleader Evans always had an eye on the action in the rings, and his method for accompanying dancing animals was to let the animals set the tempo and make sure the band played to them. In this case, the band was struggling with Stravinsky's music, which was unlike anything in their regular repertoire. They demanded a raise in pay, and when Ringling North refused, went on strike. It's said the whole show had to perform several stands using gramophone records. Since the Circus Polka had not been recorded, the elephant ballet could not be performed while the band was on strike.
On a less disruptive note, some of the elephant handlers weren't entirely thrilled at having to dress their bull elephants in tutus.
A more serious disruption happened in August, on the second day of a five day stand in Cleveland. A few hours before the matinee, the menagerie tent caught fire. The canvas top was waterproofed with a mixture of paraffin and white gas. Melting paraffin fueled the flames, which were fanned by high winds off Lake Erie. The heat trapped beneath the canvas was intense, coupling with the speed of the fire to hamper rescue efforts. All hands raced in from their lunch break to do what they could, which wasn't much. The canvas burned away in less than five minutes.
The elephants were the only performing animals housed in the menagerie tent, and even though their handlers risked their own lives to unchain them, the elephants wouldn't leave until head bull handler Walter McClain walked into the burning tent and ordered them to pull up their stakes and march out.
Circus veterinarian J.Y. Henderson saw the fire from his nearby hotel room and raced to the grounds. He commandeered Cleveland PD riflemen, armed with automatic rifles, to put down the four elephants too badly burned to be saved. He took a pistol from a police officer and personally put down the smaller animals he knew couldn't be helped. Meantime, he sprayed a new burn ointment called Foille on both the animals and their scorched handlers.
The matinee was canceled. Through the day, elephant handlers stood on ladders with buckets and brushes, painting their charges with burn ointment. In the circus world it's considered very bad luck to "blow" or cancel a show. Many of the show's performers had survived other tent fires, so the evening performance went on as scheduled, the big top filled to capacity. So far I've been unable to discover whether or not the elephants went on that night. More likely the only Balanchine piece performed was the liberty horse ballet, set to music from Carmen, which I haven't been able to find any photos of.
Doc Henderson went without sleep for three straight days, filling sprayers and buckets with Foille, and managing to save all but 65 of the hundreds of exotic animals. Eventually the corps de elephants donned their tutus and trouped back into the big top, having more than earned their applause.
The elephants were the only performing animals housed in the menagerie tent, and even though their handlers risked their own lives to unchain them, the elephants wouldn't leave until head bull handler Walter McClain walked into the burning tent and ordered them to pull up their stakes and march out.
Circus veterinarian J.Y. Henderson saw the fire from his nearby hotel room and raced to the grounds. He commandeered Cleveland PD riflemen, armed with automatic rifles, to put down the four elephants too badly burned to be saved. He took a pistol from a police officer and personally put down the smaller animals he knew couldn't be helped. Meantime, he sprayed a new burn ointment called Foille on both the animals and their scorched handlers.
The matinee was canceled. Through the day, elephant handlers stood on ladders with buckets and brushes, painting their charges with burn ointment. In the circus world it's considered very bad luck to "blow" or cancel a show. Many of the show's performers had survived other tent fires, so the evening performance went on as scheduled, the big top filled to capacity. So far I've been unable to discover whether or not the elephants went on that night. More likely the only Balanchine piece performed was the liberty horse ballet, set to music from Carmen, which I haven't been able to find any photos of.
Doc Henderson went without sleep for three straight days, filling sprayers and buckets with Foille, and managing to save all but 65 of the hundreds of exotic animals. Eventually the corps de elephants donned their tutus and trouped back into the big top, having more than earned their applause.
The elephant ballet lasted only one season. Many said it was too high brow for the average circus audience, though the crowds seemed to love it. Robert Ringling, a failed opera singer, didn't like it at all, and by 1943 he had wrestled control of the show from John Ringling North. The Circus Polka was out, to the relief of the band, who had worked overtime learning the convoluted score.
Most of the elephant handlers were relieved too. They thought the bulls looked ridiculous in tutus. Ultimately, it seems that the piece was really too high brow for the elephants themselves.
According to the human performers, the elephants never liked dancing to Stravinsky's music. Stravinsky, however, claims to have gotten a fan letter from one of the elephants:
"After conducting my orchestral original on radio from Boston in 1944, I received a congratulatory telegram from Bessie, a young pachyderm who had carried a ballerina and who had heard that broadcast in the winter headquarters of the Circus in Sarasota. I never saw the circus ballet, but I met Bessie in Los Angeles once and shook her foot."
This is no doubt just one of the many tales both Stravinsky and Balanchine made up about the Circus Polka. It may have been inspired by the publicity shot of Balanchine and Modoc. The subtitle, For a Young Elephant, probably came out of their recreation after the fact of Balanchine's call to Stravinsky about the commission. Modoc, the "prima ballerina" of the spectacle, danced the ballet at the age of forty-two, and lived to the age of fifty-seven.
As for Bessie's fan letter to Stravinsky, it's possible she preferred the orchestral version arranged by Stravinsky himself, instead of the circus band version arranged by David Raskin.
Circus Polka, band arrangement by David Raskin
Circus Polka, orchestral version for SAB
Even though they only performed this spectacle for one troubled season, it's said that the elephants who learned Balanchine's choreography never forgot it. While the Ringling family owned the show, retired performing animals lived out their days at the winter quarters in Sarasota, and veterans of the corps de elephants sometimes spontaneously performed the Circus Polka just for fun, without the music.
Possibly they might have preferred the uncorrupted Schubert Marche Militaire No.1, as it would have been much like the other circus marches they were used to.
Full Orchestral version
And just for fun - Four Hand Piano version
Most of the elephant handlers were relieved too. They thought the bulls looked ridiculous in tutus. Ultimately, it seems that the piece was really too high brow for the elephants themselves.
According to the human performers, the elephants never liked dancing to Stravinsky's music. Stravinsky, however, claims to have gotten a fan letter from one of the elephants:
"After conducting my orchestral original on radio from Boston in 1944, I received a congratulatory telegram from Bessie, a young pachyderm who had carried a ballerina and who had heard that broadcast in the winter headquarters of the Circus in Sarasota. I never saw the circus ballet, but I met Bessie in Los Angeles once and shook her foot."
This is no doubt just one of the many tales both Stravinsky and Balanchine made up about the Circus Polka. It may have been inspired by the publicity shot of Balanchine and Modoc. The subtitle, For a Young Elephant, probably came out of their recreation after the fact of Balanchine's call to Stravinsky about the commission. Modoc, the "prima ballerina" of the spectacle, danced the ballet at the age of forty-two, and lived to the age of fifty-seven.
As for Bessie's fan letter to Stravinsky, it's possible she preferred the orchestral version arranged by Stravinsky himself, instead of the circus band version arranged by David Raskin.
Circus Polka, band arrangement by David Raskin
Circus Polka, orchestral version for SAB
Even though they only performed this spectacle for one troubled season, it's said that the elephants who learned Balanchine's choreography never forgot it. While the Ringling family owned the show, retired performing animals lived out their days at the winter quarters in Sarasota, and veterans of the corps de elephants sometimes spontaneously performed the Circus Polka just for fun, without the music.
Possibly they might have preferred the uncorrupted Schubert Marche Militaire No.1, as it would have been much like the other circus marches they were used to.
Full Orchestral version
And just for fun - Four Hand Piano version