Polonaises
One evening … I came across a crumpled and greasy piece of paper lying on the ground, with the script that caught my eye. I picked it up and after returning to my block I straightened it carefully so as not to cause any damage. It stank of herring and God knows what else. But it was music notation. The melody only, handwritten, but legible, without harmonization, without accompaniment. The title at the top: Three 18th-century Warsaw Polonaises, author: Unknown.
I washed the precious document as carefully as possible and hung it in a discreet place in the music room to let it dry overnight. Over the next few days, I harmonized and wrote down the notes of all three polonaises to a small chamber ensemble, and then, whenever the circumstances allowed, I began to rehearse them in the block. They turned out to be real gems of the Polish 18th-century music. Some of my fellow Polish inmates congratulated me on this “stunt,” considering it an act of resistance. It surprised me a bit, because for me it was purely for musical satisfaction, although enhanced by the fact that the music was Polish, but I did not understand how its clandestine performance could harm the Germans or affect the course of hostilities…
After the war, I reconstructed these Three Warsaw Polonaises from memory.
Szymon Laks „Gry oświęcimskie”, Wydawnictwo PMAB, Oświęcim 1998
Three Warsaw Polonaises by unknown author from the 18th century.
Orchestrated by: Szymon Laks
I. Allegro maestoso w tonacji D-dur
II. Andantino con espressione w tonacji e-moll
III. Allegro energetico w tonacji G-dur
The artists:
Flute: Alicja Molitorys Oboe: Adam Stachula Akordeon: Marek Andrysek Clarinet: Jadwiga Czarkowska, Michał Urbańczyk Bassoon: Jacek Olesik Horns: Mirosław Kuchlewski, Waldemar Matera Trumpets: Tomasz Soswa, Bartosz Gaudyn Trombone: Mateusz Konopka Timpani: Wojciech Herzyk Violin I: Irena Kalinowska-Grohs – Concertmaster, Olivia Bujnowicz, Martyna Grohs Violin II: Agnieszka Lasoń, Nicole Bronder, Piotr Bywalec Viola: Krzysztof Batog, Aleksandra Batog Cello: Danuta Sobik-Ptok, Aleksandra Łyczba Double bass: Łukasz Bebłot Conductor: Szymon Bywalec Recording Directors: Beata Jankowska-Burzyńska, Wojciech Marzec
A few words about the Polonaises:
Three Warsaw Polonaises of an unknown author from the 18th century, developed by Szymon Laks (I. Allegro maestoso in D major, II. Andantino conespressione in E minor, III. Allegro energico in G major) are unusual pieces.
Sheet music was found at the Birkenau camp by Szymon Laks, who became a conductor and part of the inmates band through a series of coincidences. As a conductor, he had very little influence on his band composition, in particular he did not know whether the musicians would survive another day in the camp. Although in place of those who fell ill, were gassed or went “to the wires,” new musician arrived, it was necessary to prepare the instrumentation in such a way, that the part of one instrument could be replaced by another. As Laks recalls it:
“The sudden disappearance of one or more musicians caused ‘a void’ in chords, and often in solo parts. It forced upon myself a grimy duty to closely monitor the physical and mental health of weaker colleagues and to use a special type of instrumentation. This system, which in the musical dialect is called ‘odeon,’ allows for the performance of any song by any team composition, regardless of the presence or absence of one or even several musicians. This is achieved by writing in small notes more important parts into other voice parts, so that in the absence of the main soloist he can be replaced by one of those present who can then reading those small notes. Over time, I achieved real mastery in this peculiar art, and the ‘gaps’ in the sound that troubled me so much, appeared less and less often. Only after long months the composition of the orchestra, more and more numerous over time, became more stable, which allowed me to abandon the role of a music gravedigger.”
Szymon Laks „Gry oświęcimskie”, Wydawnictwo PMAB, Oświęcim 1998
Szymon Laks described the situation with his natural criticism and pragmatic thinking, reducing it to purely musical categories. In fact, however, the Polonaises he developed have value not only as music full of specific character and serenity, having a positive effect on the morale of prisoners playing them in hiding in their band barracks, but as an example of this incredible instrumentation system forced upon them by the camp reality. Performing music with typical Polonaise rhythms also required considerable courage in circumstances where death penalty was often ordered for much less serious “offenses” than playing forbidden Polish music. It could not affect the situation on the front line, but it could, to a certain extent, contribute to strengthening the psyche of the musicians.
Three Warsaw Polonaises, arranged by Szymon Laks, were recorded by the Orkiestra Muzyki Nowej under the baton of Szymon Bywalec in September 2019 at the Chamber Hall of the National Symphony Orchestra in Katowice.
The recreation and recording of the Three Warsaw Polonaises, thanks to the cooperation of many institutions and the involvement of many people, including Szymon Bywalec who prepared the score and conducted the musicians of the ensamble Orkiestra Muzyki Nowej, restores a fragment of the history of music from the darkest period from Europe’s history and is a testimony of its important role in the world destroyed by hatred and racism. Recorded works will allow us to learn the sound of this unique orchestra, and will also show the specificity of the camp orchestras.
Recording of the unknown to a wide audience 18th-century pieces will also significantly contribute to the commemoration of the Polish musical heritage.
What our guests said:
Men's orchestra in Birkenau
The band formed in the men's camp in Birkenau was one of the 11 prisoner orchestras operating in Auschwitz-Birkenau camp complex. It was created in August 1942 at the behest of Lagerführer Johann Schwarzhuber and based on 16 musicians detached from the men's orchestra in the Auschwitz I main camp.
Men's orchestra in Birkenau
The band formed in the men's camp in Birkenau was one of the 11 prisoner orchestras operating in Auschwitz-Birkenau camp complex. It was created in August 1942 at the behest of Lagerführer Johann Schwarzhuber and based on 16 musicians detached from the men's orchestra in the Auschwitz I main camp. The main task of this orchestra, like the other bands in the camp, was to maximize the pace of crossing the camp gate by prisoners' work details by playing lively marches. In the rhythm of marching music, even extremely exhausted prisoners marched faster, and because they were crossing the gate in columns formed in rows of five, it was easier for the guards to count them.
The first Kapellmeister and conductor of this orchestra, who played also the tuba, was Jan Zaborski (prisoner number 19848). When Zaborski died in the camp hospital in November 1942, his position was taken over by a drummer, Franciszek Kopka (prisoner number 11099). Kopka was a controversial person, and although he led the orchestra formally until June 1944 (when he was released from the camp as a citizen of the German Third Reich), a great influence of Szymon Laks—an outstanding Polish musician of Jewish origin—on the functioning of the band began showing much earlier. Not only did the orchestra gradually increase in size, but also significantly improved the performance quality and the sound of the band. From the initial 16, the number of the musicians increased to over 30, and in addition to the Poles dominating at the beginning, there were also excellent musicians—almost virtuosos—of Jewish origin from almost all European countries. As a bandmaster, Szymon Laks was not only an excellent conductor, but also a great orchestrator—he was the one to prepare notes for his band.
19848 Jan Zaborski, Archive PMA-B
11099 Franciszek Kopka, Archive PMA-B
Initially, the band changed their quarters, but for the longest period of time the musicians lived and practiced in the wooden barracks number 5 in the BIId camp section. The places where the orchestra played marches and gave Sunday concerts for the SS and inmates also changed, but the band mainly played on designated space next to the exit from the men's camp near the flowerbed. Although no photo of the male orchestra in Birkenau has survived, in Archives of the Auschwitz Museum there is a photograph taken in 1944 by the SS, in which the orchestra's playing spot can be seen. Empty chairs and clearly visible music stands suggest a break in their play. In the distance, a water tank and camp kitchen building (no longer in existence) are visible.
The repertoire for the marching consisted mainly of lively German compositions, while for Sunday concerts for the SS, which prisoners could also listen to from afar, it also included waltzes, tangos, opera and operetta arias, and hits popular at that time. There were sometimes less formal jazz music concerts, and occasional performances for prominent prisoners: for example for their birthday. The band's instruments consisted of several violins, violas, trumpets, clarinets and accordions, was also tuba-helicon, saxophone, trombone, double bass, drum, cymbals, snare drum and cello.
The orchestra existed until October 1944, when the musicians were transferred primarily to Sachsenchausen and Dachau concentration camps. The order to leave the instruments in Birkenau meant the formal terminating of the band.
BIId camp section in Birkenau with the orchestra's playing spot visible, A-BSM Archives
André Laks
About my father Szymon Laks and his book Gry oświęcimskie (Auschwitz performances)*
My father Szymon Laks was a composer. Close to the trends called sometimes the "Paris School," which before the Second World War consisted of young composers coming to the French capital from the East ...
André Laks
About my father Szymon Laks and his book Gry oświęcimskie (Auschwitz performances)*
My father Szymon Laks was a composer. Close to the trends called sometimes the "Paris School," which before the Second World War consisted of young composers coming to the French capital from the East, he left behind a noticeable musical work, although under the influence of French music with its care for form and sound sublime. His works were also strongly rooted in the tradition of Polish music, both classical and popular. He hoped that at least his songs "would outlive him."
Szymon Laks and Bernard Maik, Marseille 1947. Photo: courtesy of André Laks, family archives.
Born in 1901 in Warsaw, in 1926 he settled in Paris to complete his music studies and start a professional career there. From May 14, 1941 to July 16, 1942, he was interned in the Pithivier camp as a "foreign Jew." On July 17, 1942, he was taken to Auschwitz-Birkenau in Convoy No. 6; there he received the number 49543. His brothers, Henry (1897–1989) and Leon (1906–1966), who arrived in France almost at the same time as my father, avoided deportation because they had left early enough for the southern France. My father's sister stayed in Poland; she perished there along with her son, David in a German concentration camp. I don't know the fate of other family members. My father was saved from his inevitable death by his knowledge of music: at the beginning, he was a violinist and then a conductor of the orchestra in Auschwitz-Birkenau. He described it in his book. After being liberated from the camp, my father returned to Paris. In 1948 he accepted French citizenship, and this same year he met my mother, whom he married a year later. My mother, nee Finkelkraut, survived the War in Warsaw, taking the name Paulina Rudowska. After the War, she left for France, while her sister Maria, who survived the War in France, decided to come to Poland to "build socialism." My father died in 1983 in Paris, in an apartment at Rue de Chazelles, where I had been born in 1950. My mother, born in 1910, died in 2001.
Musiques d’ un autre monde (Music from another world) is the title of a book that was written jointly by René Coudy and my father. The book is about how its authors survived the concentration camp. Roger Duhamel wrote the preface. In 1970, my father decided to publish a new version of this book in Polish. After unsuccessful attempts to publish a Polish edition in Poland, this book was published at my father's own expense in 1979 by the Oficyna Poetów i Malarzy (Poets' and Painters' Press) in London. A new edition was published in 1998 by the Publishing House of the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum. In the introduction to the 1979 edition, my father explains why he saw the need to rewrite the book from 1948: "Fate decreed that I had to take up this task alone and decide for myself what to leave unchanged, what to leave out, what to change—looking from a perspective of the past decades." As far as I know, soon after the publication of the book in its first version, he lost all contact with René Coudy. He looked for his colleague then, but finally decided to write the book again by himself and in Polish. Two letters sent by my father to René Coudy in January 1973 and February 1974 survived. Both returned with the annotation "recipient unknown." He may have died earlier. Therefore, my father felt that he had the right to sign the second book with his name only, even if the contents of the two books did not differ in a significant way. In the second version, he introduced a number of changes, abbreviations and additions. He also changed the chapter titles. ... In addition, in the book Musiques d'un autre monde, the lyrical speaker is René Coudy, while my father is a character named "André" (like I was named a few years later), while in Gry oświęcimskie, the speaker is my father. In the book from 1948 he is presented as follows, "André is a true musician, and his knowledge and skills make themselves felt all the time. Without the piano-we never had it—he was able to harmonize and instrumentalize every piece. Often, it was enough to give him a few measures, but even without them he could play the piece from memory. His task was to write out the parts of a piece that we had to play and make it into an orchestral one. He also had to conduct rehearsals, and determine every detail of the performance."
Szymon Laks with Aleksander Tansman and Stanisław Dygat. Photo: courtesy of André Laks, family archives.
Szymon Laks. Photo: courtesy of André Laks, family archives.
The caution that is characteristic of the book resulted from the need to adopt a distance to be able to "testify" to anything at all. My father, describing Auschwitz as "a world in negatives" where "white became black, black became white, and values took a 180 turn," states that he did not have to "get rid of a single common human virtue." In the second version of the book, the time perspective adds to the mental perspective. Gry oświęcimskie was written 30 years after Musiques d’un autre monde. Not only does the later book attempt greater objectivity, but it also allows you to take into consideration other accounts of those who survived and opinions on the role of music in concentration camps published in the professional literature up to that time.
Composing was my father's profession. In his professional life, Auschwitz is just an episode that had little to do with music. My friend, Karl Grob, in his unpublished text took up this issue and made a distinction between "living for music" and "living off music" (thanks to music). This distinction was suggested by my father who wrote, "This is not a book about music. This is a book about music in the Nazi concentration camp. One could also say: about music in a distorting mirror." This distinction "for" and "off" present in the lives of many musicians is quite banal under normal circumstances. But life "thanks to music" was something much less banal when it came to surviving Auschwitz.
My father certainly lived a part of his life "thanks to music." Before the War he worked as a violinist. He also played for the silent movies shows. He played in cafes and gave music lessons. One year, he traveled around the world working as a violinist on a cruise ship. After the War, he wrote-under a pseudonym—film music, and also took odd jobs just to survive. He was also employed by his brother Leon, who had a film studio in Saint Cloud. But my father also lived, or even above all, "for music." There was nothing in common between the music he composed after the War and the music from "another world." My father was a composer before and after, and it was still for a short time.
Szymon Laks and Antoni Słonimski with friends, 1967. Photo: courtesy of André Laks, family archives.
After the War, however, there were some interdependencies between life for music and the camp experience. First of all in the area of content. It seems that before the War, none of my father's works had anything to do with Jewish tradition. His father belonged to this category of assimilated Jews, who, like his two favorite poets, Julian Tuwim and Antoni Słonimski, dissociated himself from both religion and Jewish tradition. Only after the War did some works composed by the father relate to those subjects, although even then the presence of topics relating to the history of the Jewish people in my father's work is certainly not the most important example of the music professional's confrontation with the Holocaust. Upon his return from the camp, my father composed very little: besides Pieśni żydowskie (Jewish songs), he wrote a string quartet based on Polish folk melodies. Then there came a twelve-year break in his work, during which in 1954 he wrote only Poemat na skrzypce i orkiestrę (Poem for violin and orchestra). This break was caused by both poor health and the need to earn a living. He really started composing only in 1962, and not for long. Instead of notes, he took up letters. Father had a passion not only for music, but also for languages, and for the language as such in particular. He liked to argue and in his polemics he could be sarcastic to the point of sometimes being hilarious. During the last 15 years of his life, he also worked as a translator, and many of his translations were published and praised. He probably hoped that music would not be his only legacy.
*The title and content come from the afterword written by André Laks for the second French edition translated by Laurence Dyevre, and which was translated into Polish by Antoni Buchner. Éditions du Cerf, Paris 2004; version of the after word for the Spanish edition of Gry oświęcimskie.
Szymon Bywalec
At the first glance at Polonaises I did not foresee my later fascination with them.
I first learned about Szymon Laks' Polonaises shortly after recording the Etude by Fryderyk Chopin arranged for a female prisoner orchestra in Birkenau. Although I was aware...
Szymon Bywalec
Conductor Szymon Bywalec during recording
At the first glance at Polonaises I did not foresee my later fascination with them.
I first learned about Szymon Laks' Polonaises shortly after recording the Etude by Fryderyk Chopin arranged for a female prisoner orchestra in Birkenau. Although I was aware that music was played in the camps and that there were orchestras there, I had no idea that there were as many as eleven of them in KL Auschwitz alone, including the female orchestra led for some time by Alma Rosé—an excellent violinist, Gustaw Mahler's niece—the initiator of Etude's instrumentation for the composition of her "band" and the author of words.
At the first glance at Polonaises by an unknown author, arranged by Szymon Laks, whose story is related to the male orchestra in Birkenau, I did not foresee my later fascination with them. I received the notes only in the form of orchestral parts—there was no score. After a cursory glance, I realized that a rather large orchestra would be needed to perform them. The Polonaises themselves seemed to be purely applied music—emphasizing the national character of the dance as much as possible, but not exceeding the artistic level of dozens of similar compositions. So the notes waited patiently in a drawer, and time went by in its usual, relentless rhythm, pushing the project into the undefined future.
As it often happens, however, life writes its own scenarios that are absolutely impossible to predict. Serious health problems made me feel an irresistible need to sort out and complete my current projects, and since I had plenty of time, I decided to start working on these pieces.
Of course, the name of Szymon Laks was not unfamiliar. I heard about him both at school and during music studies in the context of the "Paris School", i.e. Polish composers who before World War II gathered in France, mainly around the outstanding figure of Nadia Boulanger, and who had a significant impact on the understanding and definition of music in that period, not only among Polish composers and critics. I also remembered Laks's connection to the Auschwitz concentration camp. I began to carefully browse through the orchestral voices, and the image of three contrasting polonaises slowly emerged. I was wondering whether to ultimately record a violin voice or a piano voice, which was a kind of a piano reduction with an additional line with a leading melodic voice (voices) containing annotations about the instruments playing (or the most important ones) at a particular moment. However, already at this stage, I decided to compile a score based on the voices in order to obtain a complete picture of these three miniatures. After writing the first polonaise, and even while still writing it, my amazement and admiration for Szymon Laks grew with every minute and with every next bar I entered. For many years, I first studied orchestration myself, and then I lectured at the Academy of Music in Katowice for future practitioners of conducting, as well as composers and theorists. I have personally instrumented many pieces for various line-ups and bands, often composed of musicians of varying skill levels. I recognized an absolutely exquisite "instrumental work" made not only by an excellent "professional", but also a sensitive "artist". I decided to do research on the circumstances in which the Polonaises were created and the ensemble for which they could have been written. So I learned that Laks had found crumpled and greasy piece of paper lying on the ground, which turned out to be sheet music containing a handwritten but legible melodic line of three polonaises designated as Three Warsaw Polonaises from the 18th century by an anonymous author. He soon harmonized and arranged the pieces for a small chamber ensemble, and then, together with the male orchestra in Birkenau he was running at that time, he began to rehearse them whenever an opportunity presented itself, but it was necessary to be extremely careful in this regard, as the specific rhythm and dance accent of the polonaise was so characteristic that if the Germans heard it, any explanations would be of no avail...
Szymon Bywalec during work
Szymon Bywalec during work
Fragment of the score prepared by Szymon Bywalec on the basis of Szymon Laks' notes
Already when analyzing the voices, my attention was drawn, on the one hand, to a very skillful and adept, but nonetheless constant, doubling of both melodic and counterpoint voices, practically throughout the entire piece. This kind of orchestration is generally avoided, unless there is some special justification for it, or we want to use the entire orchestra in full tutti. It is also remarkable that parts of other instruments were often written in small print into the voices, which in turn could have been related to the fact that when there is no score or when the conductor is unable to do his job, it is easier for the players (especially on wind instruments) to find out where they are in the piece and in what order they should enter. It never occurred to me then that the reason for this kind of instrumentation could have been much more prosaic, and at the same time quite gruesome... As Laks wrote, "The sudden disappearance of one or more musicians caused 'voids' in the chords, and often in the solo parts. This imposed on me a grim duty of closely monitoring the physical and mental health of weaker colleagues and using a special type of instrumentation."
This passage explains a lot about the cause of many doublings, and at the same time gives an answer to why parts or fragments of parts of other instruments were often written in the voices with small notes. Therefore, in the Third Polonaise, one of the fragments of the clarinet part bears the composer's note—con flauto ad libitum.
However, on the other hand, when I had finished writing all three scores, other conclusions emerged, often standing—if not in complete contradiction—at least in some conflict with my first impressions. The composition for which the polonaises were instrumented was very classic. Single woodwinds (except for two clarinets), double brass (2 horns, 2 trumpets, 1 trombone), timpani and strings. In spite of Laks's special instrumentation assumptions I was already familiar with, the score looked as if it had been written for a full symphony orchestra. The texture and use of the brass did not quite correspond to the words of Laks, who claimed that he had arranged the piece for a small chamber ensemble. I found the answer again in the composer's biographical memoirs. It turned out that the original materials were lost. The composer himself recalls that after the war he recreated from memory the Three Warsaw Polonaises, this time (retaining the "odeon" character) also adapting the instrumentation to be performed by a professional symphonic ensemble.
When planning the recording of the Polonaises, I was faced with the dilemma of whether to bring out the "symphonic" character that I had in my version, or rather to try to emphasize the intimacy of the texture and those doublings that condition the "substitutability" of musicians. The first option was supported by the method of arranging the brass parts and the use of divisi in violins I and II and in violas, which suggested a larger number of strings in the composer's instrumentation concept. On the other hand, the quantitative ratio of woodwind to brass (5:5) was disturbed in comparison to the classical symphony orchestra, where it was most often 8:4 (double woodwind instruments, two horns and two trumpets). This fact, in turn, most likely had its source in the preferential use of wind and brass instruments in a concentration camp, which work well in open spaces due to their carrying capacity. In the end, I decided to compromise, with a slight preference for the intimacy of the sound, defining the ensemble of the strings: 3, 3, 2, 2, 1. On the one hand, it allowed for not losing the intimate character of the composition, and on the other, it evened out the balance between the groups of instruments a little, leaving, however, the characteristic disproportionality of their instruments, and at the same time showing their potential symphonic sound.
In addition to the instrumentation, I would like to mention the arrangement itself. It is very elaborate, while maintaining the simplicity and utility of the dance itself. All three polonaises differ in character, so they form a wonderful cycle, as if showing different aspects of the polonaise as a dance. The first polonaise (Allegro maestoso) is the most classic one, with a dignified walking character. Although two-part (the second part contains elements of part I), it is coherent in terms of material and has a rich figuration, especially in the middle voices with characteristic folk ornaments in the melodic line. The second polonaise (Andantino con espressione)—the most lyrical and the slowest—has a polyphonic character; in the sound layer there are very interesting duplications of the violin with bouché horns. The formal structure is similar to the first polonaise, except that the middle part is more varied here. The third polonaise (Allegro energico) is a true feast of splendor and energy. The fastest, with a decidedly joyful fanfare character, is an effective ending to the series. It is also distinguished from the previous two by its construction, as it presents a typical ABA reprise form with a contrasting central part. In this case it is a "hunting" trio, consisting of an oboe playing the main melody and two horns, which are supported by strings playing pizzicato.In the material, I made a dozen or so necessary editorial corrections, changing (often on the basis of a piano reduction or comparison with other voices) the pitch of incorrectly entered notes, standardizing the articulation and arcing, making small dynamic corrections.
Working on the Three Warsaw Polonaises from the 18th century was for me perhaps the greatest challenge and pleasure over the last few years. Balancing the artistic ambitions and adapting the arrangement and orchestration of the pieces by the composer so as to take into account the worst scenarios that could happen in the camp, and at the same time very elaborate and sublime instrumentation work, make these miniatures, based on simple and popular polonaise melodies, real gems.
I hope that these polonaises will be more and more often presented to audiences by orchestral ensembles.
Katarzyna Naliwajek
Three Warsaw Polonaises—a musical reconstruction in the world of Death
It is symbolic that Szymon Laks—a composer, Pole, Varsovian—was arrested in Paris as a Jew by the French collaborative police and transported back “to Poland”, as the Polish territories occupied...