Manchester’s 2nd annual Oktoberfest begins on Oct. 13
Get ready for dancing, beer and balloon animals
"These guys have been at it for a long time," says the voice on the other end of the phoneline. "There's a lot of expertise on stage. You have to understand that this isn't to everybody's taste, but they are really good at what they do."
When you cover the Manchester entertainment scene, you get used to hearing this sort of thing. Some musicians are just too raw, too controversial for widespread public consumption. The general public is not always open-minded enough to accept even a very good band at face value. Indeed, there are bands out there that really aren't to everyone's taste. So it really isn't surprising that this band's agent wants to establish their rock-solid musical credentials.
What is surprising is that it isn't Slipknot or Linkin Park or Godsmack that Paul Roy is talking about. It's a different sort of band altogether-The Alpiner Oom Pah Band.
Roy, the owner of Snyder Productions in Nashua, is discussing the band's upcoming gig at this weekend's Oktoberfest in Manchester on Saturday, Oct. 13 and Sunday, Oct. 14 on Hanover Street. Because October is the busiest time of year for an oom-pah band, it is impossible to reach the musicians themselves. Roy, however, is full of assurances that this is one of the best bands in the business.
"They're really exciting," he says. "When you listen to them, you really feel like you're in Germany!"
Really? Wow.
Upon further thought, the question arises-what does that mean? Like so many statements made by those in the music industry, it is slightly ambiguous. What does it mean to be in Germany at this time of year?
Oktoberfest is a tradition that goes back almost two hundred years to a wedding reception that got out of hand. In 1810, Ludwig I of Bavaria married Therese of Saxon-Hildburghausen-who, if she had nothing else going for her, came from a really cool-sounding place. To celebrate this match, Ludwig threw a five-day party in Munich, complete with a parade, horse races and riflemen. This proved to be so popular that Ludwig and his boys held the same party again the next year and then the next and the next and so on. Over the years, the party grew bigger and more elaborate, until it became the largest celebration of its kind in the world.
Today, Oktoberfest is gigantic beyond imagining. Last year, 7 million people attended Oktoberfest in Munich. They drank over 5 million liters of beer and ate 700,000 fried chickens, 400,000 sausages, 200,000 fishes on sticks, 60 roast deer and 80 roast oxen.
What are the odds that our Oktoberfest will be that intense?
Nick DiMartino is optimistic.
DiMartino (Nicky of Nicky D's) is one of the organizers of this year's Oktoberfest, which is being put on by the Hanover Street Merchant's Association. While he doesn't expect attendance to reach the 7 million mark, DiMartino is expecting a very good turnout.
"We've got a larger beer tent this year than we had last year," he cites as an example. "It's about 30 feet by 80. That's what-2,400 square feet? That's bigger than my restaurant!"
This weekend's Oktoberfest is the latest in a recent series of events the Hanover Street merchants have held to attract people to the downtown area. DiMartino sees this as a high priority.
"Imagine you owned a mall," he explains. "You have to bring people to your mall. We're downtown and people are leaving downtown. There is a certain...(he pauses, searching for the right phrase)...ambiance to it. If you're already downtown, why leave for somewhere else?"
According to DiMartino, the key to Oktoberfest is ambiance.
"I was stationed in Germany many years ago," he says, "and I always used to go [to Oktoberfest in Munich]. It was so much fun! You'd sit next to some guy you didn't even know and after a few beers, you'd end up singing German folk songs with him."
This is the atmosphere the organizers hope to inspire at Manchester's Oktoberfest.
In addition to beer and good feelings (which not surprisingly go hand-in-hand), this year's Oktoberfest will feature not one but two oom-pah bands, traditional German dancers, clowns, street magic, prize drawings
and traditional German food prepared by the Professional Chefs of New Hampshire.
All this is encouraging. We would certainly all be better for a little street entertainment, particularly if it includes beer, but why Oktoberfest? What is the big attraction of the whole Oktoberfest thing?
From Munich's offical Oktoberfest Web site:
"Resident of Munich the Octoberfest, also the 'Wiesn' mentioned, is world-wide the largest people celebration and finds 2001 to 168. Times instead of. Annually flow over 6 million visitor on the celebration. On the Weisn to the 5 million measure beer are drunk and over 200,000 pair Schweinswuerstl verzehrt annually; particularly in the fixed tents of the residents of Munich tradition breweries."
This spectacularly fails to clear things up, but that may have something to do with the public domain translation software used to read the Web site.
It is time to consult someone with his finger on the pulse of the whole Oktoberfest thing-one of the artists who will perform at this weekend's festivities, perhaps.
Unfortunately, as stated earlier, October is crunch-time for Bavarian musicians and it proves impossible to contact anyone from either band between gigs. It proves similarly impossible to contact any of the chefs, street magicians, dancers, or beer tent girls.
Ultimately, it falls to Pockets The Clown-the balloon animal guy-to explain the Manchester-Munich connection. Granted, a balloon artist isn't the first person you'd think of asking this kind of philosophical/cultural question, but then again, why not? Clowns have had a reputation for centuries for being more profound than they appear. This is a tradition that goes back to Pagliacci.
Maurice Michaud-Pockets' real name-does a surprisingly good job of finding a connection between Teutonic culture and balloon animals.
"Children's entertainment is world-wide," he says. "Last October, there was a huge balloon art event called Balloons Around The World that took place in all sorts of different countries, including Germany."
Michaud works events like Oktoberfest, making balloon sculptures for lines of adults and children. Despite having been in the balloon animal business for four years, he is remarkably unbitter. In fact, there are only two types of balloon sculptures that Michaud refuses to make; weapons ("There is enough violence in the world already. Who needs a balloon version of it?") and weiner dogs, which he doesn't do for reasons of-believe it or not-artistic integrity.
"A lot of balloon artists are hired to crank out the maximum number of balloons in an afternoon," Michaud explains.
This means that the artist generally chooses the easiest balloon animal to build-usually a weiner dog. This, in turn, leads to an inattention to detail as the artist tries to construct as many as possible in the shortest amount of time and thus, shoddy workmanship.
"They end up coming apart in a matter of minutes," he says.
It's ironic that weiner dogs are the only animals Michaud won't make, because frankly, dachsunds would provide a badly needed link to Teutonic culture.
It is at this point that an expert finally comes to light-an actual German.
Twenty-two year-old Susanne Vahle is a student from Hamlen, Germany visiting the United States for the first time. While she has never actually attended the Oktoberfest in Munich herself, she has watched it on television.
"Actually, there is no choice," she says. "It's on every channel."
She must have friends who have attended Oktoberfest, right?
She has.
Well, they must have some great stories to tell.
"Not really, no," she says, a little dejectedly. "It's just a lot of people drinking beer."
That raises another point, though. What is the big deal with Germans and all that beer? Why do they drink so much of it?
"Well," Vahle says after a moment's thought, "Germans like drinking beer."
Ah ha! Finally a connection! They like beer; WE like beer! What could be simpler? Suddenly, the whole tradition seems much more comprehensible. We share an almost mystical bond of commonality with our Bavarian brothers and sisters, silly leather shorts notwithstanding.
