Oktoberfest traditionalists are out to kill the kitsch
Ah, it’s WIES’N time—beer, sun, Lederhosen, more beer… and cheese. Not as in Swiss, but as in “Hey Baby, ooh ah.” According to Prince Luitpold of Bavaria (and likely many others), the world’s biggest beer festival is fast becoming an out-of-control, drunken orgy of tack and is a far, far cry from its traditional Bavarian origins—the celebration of his ancestors’ wedding. Admittedly, the prince has an ulterior motive—he wants the Kaltenberg brewery, owned by his family since 1955, to be represented at the Oktoberfest and thinks playing the “when I were a lad…” card, with promises to erect a “true Bavarian tent,” is the way to rouse public support. Whatever his reasons, most of us have a certain amount of sympathy. After all, if someone hijacked your wedding with cheesy hits, you’d have something to say about it. No matter how many Mass you may already have supped, there really are only so many times you can bop along to Hang on Snoopy before it drives you insane. And as for Who the **** is Alice? who the **** cares? Oh this year we’re off to sunny Spain? A few renderings of this and most of us wish we were.
But, whether you like it or not, the Wies’n just wouldn’t be the Wies’n without mass merriment and singing. And much as it may hurt traditionalists, no matter how hard Otto Schwarzfischer (long live the king!) and his band may try, they just ain’t gonna get the same response to some obscure 19th-century hit as to, well, those Wies’n chestnuts. Times change. I’ve been going to the Oktoberfest for ten years now and even the songs I was bouncing along to in 1995 appear to have been relegated by the likes of “Sitzt denn der alte Wildmoser noch?” But rather than lamenting the fact, it is of great credit to the Wies’n bands that they have succeeded in maintaining and even boosting the popularity of something that was established in 1810. It’s certainly not down to the beer alone—we can get that anywhere. No, thanks to the ingenuity of bandleaders who do a magnificent job of gauging public mood and finding the right mix of sounds—from the traditional tunes to the latest hits—the Oktoberfest has grown and flourished.
Some people, of course, are equally dismayed by this fact. It’s an ongoing local whinge that the tents are overflowing with tourists, hogging seats that should be available to locals. Ok, so who hasn’t thought the same when the doors of a tent have suddenly been closed in their face? Of course we all think we have more right than the next person to be in there. But there’s no doubt that the Oktoberfest has played a large part in establishing Munich’s reputation abroad, which in turn is important for the success of the city’s economy and for its quality of life. You don’t get world-class culture, after all, in a place no one’s heard of.
Yes, the same thing that makes the Oktoberfest great is also the cause of most of its troubles—the fact that it’s something for everyone, regardless of age, sex and nationality, something that can’t be said about many things on this earth.
From a Bavarian point of view, it may well have lost some of its traditional touches. But look at the bigger picture. Think about the Wies’n as an outsider, a foreigner. There’s no denying (and yes, this goes even for those who venture no further than the sweaty interior of the Hofbräuzelt) that the Oktoberfest is quintessentially Bavarian. From the obvious things, such as the food, the drink, the dress and the bands, to the more subtle aspects—the excellent organization, relative lack of trouble and dedication of all involved—it’s utterly unique and totally German. And yet, at the same time, the event is also extremely international and welcoming to people of all races. A fact of which Munich, Bavaria and the entire nation, should be proud. After all, there aren’t many countries in the world that can pull off such a feat. All together now… viva Bavaria!
