The Queen’s Cartoonists
Caroga Lake Music Festival
Caroga Lake, NY, July 24, 2024
It has become a tradition for symphony orchestras to devote an evening to serving as accompaniment to a feature-length movie. In nearby Saratoga Springs this summer, the Philadelphia Orchestra will be pandering to the masses by playing to a Harry Potter movie. Silent movies invite accompaniment even more, typically with a single performer at the keyboard.
Turns out there’s a middle ground, a place where six virtuoso musicians serve as the soundtrack to an eclectic selection of cartoons. The music is high-spirited, in the tradition of the John Kirby Sextet and the Raymond Scott Quintet (also a sextet, but don’t worry about it. Scott didn’t).
The Queen’s Cartoonists derive their royal appellation not from the late sovereign but from their New York City borough of residency. They are impossibly talented. Joel Pierson is the pianist and leader, providing commentary throughout the show. Greg Hammontree generally plays trumpet, but picks up other instruments or percussion items as needed. Mark Phillips plays clarinet and/or (curved) soprano sax, while Drew Pitcher is usually playing tenor sax but switches out to any number of other instruments and noisemakers. Bass-player Sam Minaie plucks, snaps, and slaps his instrument like a madman, although he can turn around a bow a charming melody as well. And Rossen Nedelchev, behind the drum kit, not only provides a solid drive for this ensemble but also manages the video portions of the program.
Online videos typically show the group flanking a movie screen, but the auditorium at the Caroga Arts complex was better suited to video screens, so two large TV sets flanked the stage, with two more further back. John Kirby recordings served as pre-show music, and a few minutes before the performance proper, those video screens flickered to life to offer a sequence of amusing slides introducing the band.
The program proper began with Popeye the Sailor Meets Sindbad the Sailor, a Max Fleischer cartoon from 1936, significant not only for being in color but also achieving a 3D effect from a multiplane camera. The band kicked off with the familiar “Popeye” theme, complete with boat-whistle effect achieved by Greg Hammontree with a nose flute—actually, nose recorder, putting that ancient instrument into surprising use. Much of the cartoon features songs (Fleischer cartoons were relentlessly musical), but the group found a way to isolate the vocals to allow themselves the pleasure of providing accompaniment. Along with sound effects and other instrumental effects. And they do it all without charts!
An abridged Porky’s Preview, a Warner Brothers Looney Tunes opus from 1941, gave us a bizarre stick-figures parade (Looney Tunes cartoons could be delightfully surreal) that put Drew Pitcher on ukulele for a stick-figure hula dance, among many other quick instrumental changes showing off the incredible versatility of these guys.
Yankee Doodle Daffy, a 1943 Looney Tunes epic, inspired a range of classic songs, including “You Oughta Be in Pictures,” “I’m Just Wild about Harry,” “Chica Chica Boom Chic” (for a Carmen Miranda cameo), and even the march from the “William Tell Overture” and Offenbach’s “Can-Can.”
The oldest cartoon was a 1919 effort to cash in on the Charlie Chaplin craze. Charley (sic) on the Farm, by Pat Sullivan (of “Felix the Cat” fame), but it segued into a segment of an actual Chaplin film, The Rink, giving the ensemble the opportunity not only to accompany an actual silent movie but also to liven it with some familiar Leroy Shield tunes, known from their association with Laurel & Hardy and Our Gang shorts.
Then there are the animated items that don’t quite count as cartoons, at least in the Saturday-morning kids’-TV sense (although I’m probably dating myself here). Vera Lalyko’s Sauna Tango, from 2010, starts with tenor sax and percussion, along with Minaie’s bowed bass that he accompanies with vocalise. It tells the strange but charming story of a sauna masseur…but I’m not going to try to describe it, any more than I would try to describe My Moon or Luminaris.
Eusong Lee, from South Korea, created My Moon, and worked with Pierson to come up with an original score—and both the music and the animation were extraordinary. A love story plays out in a truly cosmic realm and the music effectively suited this tale. It also offered a change of pace from the more frenetic cartoon scores that preceded it. Luminaris has the distinction of winning 324 festival awards—not bad for a film from 2011—and it’s a stop-motion animation using live actors, painstakingly assembled by Argentinian filmmaker Juan Pablo Zaramella. You can find it on Vimeo, and you should, but it won’t be as compelling as with live music alongside. That music, by the way, is drawn from a tango by Osmar Maderna, maintaining an Argentinian flavor.
And I should mention that a student film by Marv Newland called Bambi Meets Godzilla snuck in, no doubt to get the attention of any young (or not-so-young) Bambi lovers in the audience. Suffice it to say that it doesn’t end well.
“We offer a few different programs,” Pierson explains. “The one you saw, ‘Ages 2-102.’ focuses on classic characters, although over time I’ve added more contemporary pieces. We also have a version of ‘Ages 2-102’ with orchestra. We also have a holiday program, which is extra bizarre.” The Queen’s Cartoonists have issued three CDs, two of which include music of the repertory you’ll hear in this program. The most recent, however, is a jazz version of Mozart’s Requiem. And it’s a blast. It covers thirteen movements of the unfinished work, each with a tasteful array of solos and instrumentation, including a piano solo for Pierson in the Benedictus. You can find selections of the recording on YouTube, but look for an in-person program soon that features this work.
“I’m sure we have some music nerds in the audience,” Pierson said, explaining that his performers also fit that category. To prove it, we were treated to three impossible solos. First up: Greg Hammontree, carving a soda straw as the band vamped behind him, then blowing a brief solo on this unexpected horn. Mark Phillips was next, soprano sax in hand—only it wasn’t his hands doing the fingering, but those of Drew Pitcher standing behind him while Phillips blew the sax and simultaneously solved a Rubik’s Cube. And then Pitcher stepped forward, now wielding his tenor sax, giving out an insane solo that caused smoke to issue from his instrument’s bell.
Those in the know will recognize this as the kind of thing Spike Jones presented in his Music Depreciation Revue, so it’s no surprise to learn that Pierson is a fan. “I have a love of old, wacky swing music,” he says. “So Raymond Scott, John Kirby, and Leroy Shield are right up my alley. Some other composers/artists we feature are Spike Jones, Esquivel, and there’s even an arrangement by Liberace in our show! And we love featuring re-jigged classical music, as you know.”
Do they ever! Another concert segment—promising that classical music—began with “Flight of the Bumblebee,” in a John Kirby-ish arrangement that began with Pitcher on tenor sax but soon brought in soprano sax, trumpet, and bees. Plush bees on wands, as it happens, but the point was made. Pierson started off “The Blue Danube,” soon bringing horns into the jazzy mix, and then front and center for the upright bass, with Minaie hidden behind so that we saw only his fingers as he plucked “In the Hall of the Mountain King,” which picked up tempo and turned into a raucous hora. Khachaturian’s “Sabre Dance” proved that Phillips, channeling his inner Rahsaan Roland Kirk, could not only simultaneously play clarinet and soprano sax but then add a third instrument, a recorder.
Blackout! Then a pair of light-up drum sticks swished through the air as Nedelchev beat a furious figure that turned out to be an antic version of the opening of “Also Sprach Zarathustra,” which, as the lights came up, gave way to the “William Tell” march once again as Hammontree pedaled around the audience on a tiny two-wheeler.
The performance finished with an excerpt from A Corny Concerto, a 1943 Merrie Melodies cartoon the highlight of which is Porky Pig and his dog Laramore searching for Bugs Bunny, accompanied by the familiar “Tales from the Vienna Woods.”
The Queen’s Cartoonists are indebted to Spike Jones and Peter Schickele and John Kirby, among others, but they have used these influences to create their own highly entertaining show. It works because they are all tremendously skilled musicians and fearless stage performers who get on that stage with complete commitment. Good jazz is difficult. Comedy is difficult. These guys make it look easy. Check them out at thequeenscartoonists.com.
