Max Raabe and the Palast Orchester gained renown in Germany in the early 90s with a pair of comical songs sung in the style of German music of the 20s and 30s. Raabe and his band's fame grew after the release of several covers of well known pop songs.
Raabe has sung the part of Mack the Knife in The Threepenny Opera as well as the baritone solo in Carmina Burana. His latest effort is a solo recording of a live show accompanied by Christoph Israel on piano.
You established Palast Orchester in the 1980s. Did you feel that there was something in the air, that people were open to the world of the twenties and thirties?
No, the desire was already in me. When I moved to Berlin, I thought there must be a band like that here. Berlin simply needed to have it.
Why?
Perhaps because my grandmother who had often been in Berlin during the twenties told me about the glamorous balls where orchestras would play, everyone would drink champagne and dance elegantly on the parquet floor. After arriving in Berlin, I was looking for such balls and such bands but, of course, did not find any. So then I decided: well, I must bring back that world and sing those songs.
Did you expect such international success?
Not at all. I initially performed with a pianist, Christoph Israel, who accompanies me on my solo evenings even today. We would go around scavenging antique shops and flea markets and found many scores from the twenties and thirties, with original orchestrations. The orchestra was starting to build after that. However, we had no performances to finance our project.
When did your big break come?
We initially started performing at graduation balls and galas and gradually attracted more and more attention. Then we had our first record out and got a role in the film Der bewegte Mann, so things started to get moving. But I would have never thought one day we would tour cities all around the world, including Carnegie Hall in New York.
Your comments between songs, presented with lots of humour and spleen, form an important part of your stage performances. You present these in a theatrical style, very different from your normal style of speech. Have these been part of the overall effect right from the start?
No. I always thought that the music, the songs and the lyrics speak for themselves and there is no need at all for someone to awkwardly stutter on stage between them. But members of the orchestra kept telling me that someone should talk to the audience, because without that it is a bit embarrassing. Then I had this idea that I should choose a role that fits the milieu. By now, I increasingly enjoy inventing and performing these commentaries.
Do you plan and write everything on your own?
Yes, I do.
After your performance with the orchestra in New York last year, you had some solo shows on the stage of Neue Galerie in January. Do you approach your solo shows with piano accompaniment differently than your concerts with the orchestra?
Yes, very differently. During my solo performances I hardly speak between the songs. Such a performance is much more intimate and direct, so there is no need for the theatricality that characterises large concerts and revues.
You perform in many parts of the world and as far as I can see, you always make some changes to the concert programme. You had more Italian songs in Rome, more American hits in Carnegie Hall and the German repertoire was dominant in Berlin and Vienna. Are you preparing something special to Budapest?
Dein ist mein ganzes Herz is a natural part of our repertoire, which is the work of a Hungarian composer, Ferenc Lehár, from The Land of Smiles. With the help of a Hungarian female friend, I started working on the song Gloomy Sunday, which is perhaps the most famous Hungarian Schlager in the world but I could not got get a hold on it. So eventually I decided not to embarrass myself in front of a Hungarian audience with something that does not work. After all, we have been invited as a German orchestra to the Spring Festival and we will stick to the German-focussed repertoire, with some added American and other songs.
Do you know that one of your songs, Wenn die Elisabeth, also has old Hungarian lyrics?
Really? And what is it about?
It's called Oh, No, Sári Fell Sick. It describes the disappointment of a young woman whose skirt has been cut too long. And as it says in the title, she falls sick over it.
Well, so it is about something very different than the German text. It's good to know.
You are quite clearly the frontman and face of the Palast Orchester but one important visual element is that the first violinist is always a woman. But there are no other females in the orchestra. Why is that?
It is important to have some female energy on stage, a highlighted, admired and pampered person. But more women? That would be very dangerous. It would only cause trouble. It is better like this.
Interviewer: Gergely Zöldi / Photo: Palast Orchester
