78. Sounds of old Europe

That old street organ I heard the other day set me thinking about the cimbalom, another musical instrument that must surely be high on the endangered species list. What exactly is a cimbalom? According to Wiki, it's "a concert hammered dulcimer: a type of chordophone composed of a large, trapezoidal box with metal strings stretched across its top". Got that..? No? I didn't think you did..! On the basis that a picture's worth a thousand words, here's a picture..

From the first time I heard one, its jangling strings resonated with me and I felt a nostalgia for the older European musical traditions (Magyar, Yiddish, gypsy) of our folk memory that are now virtually lost to the present generation. (Lady Gaga just doesn't come close!)

The sound of one always puts me in mind of the film noir genre that would invariably have the ultra sinister-looking Vladek Sheybal (below) cast as the softly-spoken bad guy - complete with cigarette holder of course..

Vlad the Impaler..

I've been a fan of the sound of the cimbalom since I was introduced to it during the course of a memorable visit to the legendary Le Grand Mayeur, the Russian/Hungarian taverne/restaurant, now sadly defunct, in Brussels.

Here's a regrettably short clip that features the Kalinke ensemble from Le Grand Mayeur:

  

Located in the Place du Grand Sablon, Brussels, Le Grand Mayeur was housed in a tall building (of 3 or 4 storeys) and the centre of each floor had been removed - making 3 mezzanine floors - so from the ground floor there was an uninterrupted view all the way up to the roof. It was candle-lit and, upon entering, there was an overpowering sensation you had entered a different world to the workaday Brussels outside. A gypsy orchestra consisting of a singer accompanied by a cimbalom, balalaika, guitar, piano, violin & bass provided the magic..

Le Grand 
Mayeur

Thé Slav

I think the bulk of the clientele must have originated from the backroom staff of many of the Central and Eastern European embassies based in Brussels - judging by the number of ill-fitting grey suits when I visited Le Grand Mayeur. One of the specialities of the house was Thé Slav - which was tea with Slivovitz or shoe polish (I was never quite sure which). The first indication that things were about to look up, or take a turn for the worse - or both - came the moment when the waitress served me with a glass cup of Thé Slav - pausing only to light it with a sudden whoof! The trick was to drink it before the flickering blue flame heated the rim of the glass sufficiently for it to bond directly to skin - as in lips! Drinking one felt like the blood in one's veins had been instantly replaced by 130 octane aviation fuel.. If the first cup tasted strong and removed all capacity for rational thought, the second scrambled all motor functions but curiously enabled you to understand Polish☺. So, a useful drink then.. The repertoire of the lively gypsy singer consisted of old folk songs which she sang in at least 5 or 6 central European languages, but somehow the enthusiastic cosmopolitan audience knew all the words, and after a Thé Slav or two, I found I did too..

That old favourite of mine - "Dark Eyes" - sounds very "listenable to" when played on the cimbalom:

This clip captures all the eerie echoing sound of the cimbalom that seems to speak to us from another time and another place:

Places like Le Grand Mayeur are few and far between. It seems bizarre that one had to visit a restaurant to discover that we shared a common folk heritage with our European neighbours. Le Grand Mayeur was far more than just "a nice restaurant with a band" - it reminded us that, whatever our nationality, we are all part of that broad river of humanity. Alas, for all of us, its doors have closed for the last time..

You may be excused for thinking that what started out as a look at the cimbalom has turned into a tribute to Le Grand Mayeur.. You'd be right!

The thing to drink there was a "Thé Slav" - tea served in a glass and flamed with (I think) slivovitz.. After one glass, you'd be humming all the tunes - and after two, you knew all the words!

So here, finally, is a last glimpse of it as it really was:

By the way, if anyone knows how to make Thé Slav, I'd be curious to find out. If you'd like to tell me, use the comment form below. Thanks!  

77. Blast from the past

8th August 2010. I thought I'd take the dog for an early morning walk while it was still cool to his favourite - the Place des Basques - a grassy tree-lined square on the edge of the town centre - where he can go loose. We were walking down the big avenue that's lined with apartment buildings on one side which leads to the Place when I thought I heard in the distance the distinctive sound of a street organ. I suddenly realised that the mellifluous tones weren't coming from a radio somewhere but from the genuine article. This was the first time I've heard one of these in years and it was being pulled along the road surface by a father and son team.. (straight out of a 60s Italian film - except they were probably East Europeans) Mounted on rubber tyres, it was about the same size as the one in the clip below and it sounded very similar.. Pops was cranking the handle and Junior was holding out a tin cup to catch any centimes that might be thrown down from the balconies..

At just after 9am on a Sunday morning, I thought they were being just a tad optimistic in trying to generate some interest and a few euros from the still-shuttered apartment blocks. I doubt if many people would be up and about and the only people out on the streets were a few dog-walkers like me or those in search of a fresh croissant or baguette. I think the penny suddenly dropped with him too for he suddenly stopped the music in mid-crank and they headed back towards town.  

I'd like to have filmed the two of them as it was a real sound from an age gone by..

For the last few evenings we've had to endure the sound of bullfights from Les Arènes (just a few hundred metres away) - the stupid music, the whistles, the applause and the jeers.. I don't understand how, in an otherwise civilised society, the State can continue to sanction the practice of this degrading and cruel activity within its territory in the 21st century. And, to add further insult to injury, the bull ring is part-financed from our local taxes.

If bull-fighting is to continue, then this is the sort of level playing field I'd like to see a lot more of. In my view (and you may have your own opinion) these spectators got exactly what they deserved:

76. The old boy's knackered..

5th August 2010. Taking a break from the Do-It-Yourself job from Hell..! I've been down in the cellar for days now brushing the dust & cobwebs of decades off the wooden beams prior to slapping some toxic gunge on them.. It's not helped by the fact that I can't stand upright either - think there's less than 6ft (1.83m) of headroom down there. I can hardly breathe for dust and I've been wearing a mask which doesn't help either in this heat.. Worst job I've ever done.. but I've only got 4 beams left to do.. I'll be glad when it's finished..

With yet another of those songs that will continue to play in your head all day long after the clip has stopped - here's Jeanne Moreau singing "that" song in François Truffaut's "Jules et Jim".. (1962) (lyrics in English here)

That wonderful clip (Post #73) of Paris viewed from the air opens with a snatch of a Piaf song ("Sous le ciel de Paris") that's been on my mind while I've been toiling in the cellar..! Here it is in full:

I've decided I'm going to keep a cumulative total of the kilometers I've rowed.. (for my own benefit) Tonight's was 12km. (and it feels like it!)

7th August 2010. 14km this morning... (total 26km).