Day of the hungarians and the lachs / main concert

Krzysztof Trebunia-Tutka opens this first concert with a Podhale shepherd’s horn. But it is not really the sounds of thehorn, but a tiny étude, or rather a gesture not seen before, but so warm that appears at the beginning of the 31st FESTIVAL OF THE CHILDREN OF MOUNTAINS: a Polish couple on one side, a Hungarian couple on the other; they run up to each other, and hug warmly. One gesture, like one picture, is worth a thousand words.

Greetings are extended to Andrzej Zarych, the director of SOKÓŁ Malopolska Cultural Centre, Rev. Dr Stanisław Kowalik, as well as Jan Łosakiewicz and Leszek Chołuj, the delegates of the Polish Section of CIOFF. 

The Hungarian friends go first. Girls. Pure a cappella singing. A game, a bit like our ‘bridges.’ They float across the stage like a serpent; every now and then another first couple stops, allowing the others to pass under their clasped hands... the boys enter the stage discreetly, stand for a while, wait. They move towards the girls as the musical band starts playing. Bows tickle the strings, the accordion grinds the air with its bellows. And the children begin in a calm and dignified manner, but a while later, in a small group they move faster, then in a circle, and like a serpent, or rather two serpents, led by the boys who, like guides around the city of Cracow, are indicating their position with scarves flown in the air.

They leave the stage, only to reappear on it again with another dance or play. During that moment, the board with the name of the Hungarian ensemble also disappears. And that makes me realise that I have probably never written about this beautiful custom: during each ensemble’s performance, there appears a board bearing the ensemble's name; it is positioned at the front of the stage, slightly to the side. This way, the spectator can remember who is performing, and those who will watch the recordings one day will know. However, it would be a great pity if this board were to be held by a member of the performing ensemble. He or she wouldn’t be able to dance, and after all that’s what they came here for. It is therefore somewhat of a comradeship custom that the partner ensemble is holding the name board for the other ensemble. Here, we have the children from Niskowa standing and holding the name board.

And on stage, the boys are standing apart, and so are the girls, but soon they cross each other’s paths, ending up in pairs, dancing so naturally and singing thunderously, purely, from the gut... The stage rumbles beneath their calf-length boots, louder and louder... one last stamp. A bow. Applause.

Krzysztof sings about a sabre-wielding “krakowiacek” - a song from the times when Polish highlanders would go to Hungary to obtain all sorts of goods. The emcee’s ancestor used to bring cigarette tubes from there. It must have been a significant thing, because ‘tutka’ (the Polish word for a cigarette tube) came to be included in the family name.

A wayside shrine. So on this hot July evening, MAŁE NISKOWIOKI are taking us to a slightly less hot May evening. And not only that! It is the first May evening of the year! The mother and the children go to the shrine to decorate it. You can tell they are are not thrilled. Fortunately, a larger group appears, inviting them to play. Can the mother’s heart, which the emcee mentioned, say “no” to that? It probably can, but it doesn't want to.

So what will they play? Definitely not the ‘embroidered headscarf’ game, because the boys are not willing to kiss the girls. How about the ‘siskin’!

The counting-out rhyme about the pig, the ox and other animals points to the one who will be the bird that knows how they sow poppy seeds...

At his mum's emphatic request, Jasiek takes the watering can and goes to fetch water.

The boy with apparent leadership qualities decides who will be the cat (him) and who will be the mouse (someone else) in the next game.

The musical band arrives early to practise the songs before the May Devotion. And again, the mother’s good heart allows them to accompany the singing and dancing.

The “blacksmiths” keep hammering, as Jasiek returns. Without water. But with the watering can... broken...  so a visit to the cooper’s is a must. That furnishes a good excuse to explain what the “cooper” was, and then sing about him.

An older group enters, beautifully dressed, because after all the May Devotion is drawing near. But since there is time... and music... the younger ones must step aside. The older ones are going to “revel.”

And it was probably a good thing, because otherwise the shrine would probably never have been decorated. Although it is fair to say that only some of the younger ones are involved in weaving wild flower decorations. Someone is skipping rope, some others are playing the clapping game. The boys are kicking a rag ball around.

There is still time for all the girls to beautifully sing an apostrophe to ‘geese.’ And for the cobbler’s dance. But this is the dance danced by everyone, just like ‘cięta polka.’ And then steps in the mother, who is referred to as ‘aunt’ by most of the children; after all, it’s time to get ready for the May Devotion, and the band was supposed to practise the songs to be used in the prayer, and somehow we can’t hear them singing what they have planned to sing. And so it all ends with words about a voice being heard over hill and dale, and Mary being hailed...


Are there no irreplaceable people? But of course there are. In fact, the opposite is true: there are no people that might be replaced. This is evident in moments such as that first evening when Józek Broda is not to be seen on stage. For the first time in thirty years, although already last year he did not run all the concerts. Józek is irreplaceable. Krzysztof Trebunia-Tutka will not be his imitator, because there is no way he can succeed in emulating him. One reason being he doesn't have such a beautiful beard. Krzysztof will be himself. He will be different. And everything will be different. And it is our job to appreciate the new emcee, but never to forget the one who for thirty years has been the good spirit, sometimes Father Christmas, and always the father of the FESTIVAL OF THE CHILDREN OF MOUNTAINS. Dear Józek! We greet you with all the strength of our hearts!


The foreign ensemble’s performance is split up by the Polish partner-ensemble presentation, when the foreign ensemble presents dances from different regions and has to get changed for that reason. And this is the way it happens today. The Hungarian ensemble returns to the stage, bringing some Transylvanian folklore.

And Transylvania was the region whence came Stefan Batory, the second elected king of Poland. He was a warrior king for whom we can be sincerely thankful to the Hungarians, because although he never learnt the Polish language, he gave our country his heart, and eventually his life, because he died here and was buried at the Wawel Hill. And this is how this shared history of Magyars and Poles has been weaving for a thousand years now. Usually, it is a story of true comradeship!

But now let us return to the stage. Unfortunately, the language barrier prevents us from understanding the game involving just the girls... Wait, no! There are two boys playing and dancing. A joint dance. And once again the girls themselves in the dancing game. The boys join in. All is happening a cappella. 

And one last dance. With full music. All are on stage. The couples whirl, the singing carries them, the stage responds to the heels... The boys' dancing show off. Together again. The End.