P.D.Q. Bach means irreverent fun

Abravanel Hall and the Utah Symphony will never be the same after Peter Schickele brings his brand of humor and musical parody to Salt Lake City next weekend.

Schickele will appear with the orchestra as his alter ego, "Prof. Schickele," in a program featuring three works by P.D.Q. Bach, the last, and according to the professor, least of old J.S. Bach's countless offspring.

According to Schickele, P.D.Q. was born in 1742 and died in 1807. He was only 8 when his father died, and J.S. never gave the youngster any musical training — or, for that matter, spent much time with him.

"J.S. recognized talent, but he also recognized lack of talent," Schickele said during a telephone interview from his home in upstate New York.

It soon became apparent that P.D.Q. had absolutely no gift for music, but that didn't stop him from cashing in on the Bach family name. "To be a Bach in 18th century Germany was the equivalent of being a Redgrave in 20th century England, so P.D.Q. decided to trade in on his name and become a composer," Schickele said. Much to the chagrin of other members of the illustrious family, it must be added.

They wanted to disavow P.D.Q.'s existence so much that they went to the extreme measure of inverting his dates on his tombstone, arguing that anyone born after J.S.'s death couldn't possibly have been his son. That's why you often see his dates in concert programs listed as 1807-1742?

This seemingly transparent ruse worked until well into the 20th century, aided by the fact that all of P.D.Q.'s works had apparently been lost or destroyed after his demise.

However, musical history had to be rewritten when the professor "discovered" the first of an unending series of compositions clearly attributable to P.D.Q. That was nearly 40 years ago, and he still manages to unearth these musical truffles in the unlikeliest places. "It's amazing that I'm the only one who discovers these works," Schickele said. "I must have a nose for finding their hiding places."

The professor has taken three of these works, along with one of his own, the "Unbegun" Symphony, which consists only of a minuet and finale, and has put them together in a program he calls "P.D.Q. Bach Strikes Back."

The genesis of the title is somewhat convoluted, but it stems, in part, from a photo in which the professor, seated at the piano, is struck squarely in the face with a boxing glove coming out of the music in front of him. The title might also be taken as a sly hint that the music the audience is about to hear is an assault on the ears. Schickele is unclear on that point.