Whistle while you work

by Steve Herbst

THE HUMAN BODY could be called the original folk instrument. Think about it: Why would anybody take a stick and drill holes to fashion a flute if somebody had not first noticed that when air is blown through a small round aperture, which some whistlers call a "puccalo," it produces something pleasing to the ear?

We have all sorts and sizes of fancy, shiny brass and woodwind instruments that have evolved over the years--flutes, piccolos, clarinets, oboes, bassoons, trumpets, saxophones, tubas, sousaphones, etc. Logically, they all evolved from whistling. Sadly, today, when everybody could enjoy and benefit from whistling, hardly anybody does; while all those other instruments enjoy prominence and acceptance with bands and orchestras around the globe, the human whistle is ignored.

Why don't people whistle anymore? It is natural, free, and a great stress-reliever. One does not even have to buy an instrument or pay for lessons. Yet, what used to be the most common of occurrences is a rarity in public, and certainly in concert halls and other performance venues.

People often tell me about a favorite great uncle or grandfather who used to whistle around the house while doing chores. My dad, for instance, loved to whistle in his basement woodshop or in our '52 Studebaker when we went for a ride. He could whistle two notes at the same time (which is called "duotone"). I was inspired by him and became determined to teach myself.

This was accomplished in solitude--not because I thought it should be, but because it never occurred to me that anybody else would be interested. It was just for my own pleasure--practicing with phonograph records over and over, in my room and on the street, walking to and from school. My favorite piece to whistle was Sergei Prokofiev's "Peter and the Wolf' (narrated by Sterling Holloway). I used this classic to learn how to simulate various instruments (the duck was portrayed by an oboe; the bird, a flute: the cat, a clarinet; etc.) and thereby, unwittingly by age 10, developed a three-octave range.

I would snicker when friends were dragged into their homes after school to practice the piano because I could stay out, play, and still practice my portable instrument. Of course, today, I wish I was able to play another instrument like the piano or guitar. Wouldn't it be great to accompany myself?

Rarely, I will hear about an aunt, grandmother, or mother who loved to whistle. Believe it or not, whistling, even when it was popular and more acceptable, was considered unladylike! Remember the old saying, "Whistling women and cackling hens come to no good end." Unladylike? So was smoking, but lighting up was perceived as sexy--all the great film divas were pictured doing so. Try to think of another actress besides Lauren Bacall who knew, never mind endeavored to teach anybody, how to whistle. So, women chose smoking over whistling.

Historically, nearly half the population was unlikely to whistle. Yet, what about the guys--the ones "entitled" to whistle? Reminiscent of "plastics" from "The Graduate," my explanation is "electronics." It started with the transistor radio, which made its appearance in the middle of the last century--the original "unplugged" device for music. Now one could carry music everywhere and use an earplug to tune out the rest of the world. Of course, the little transistor, albeit portable, was not enough. Enter boom boxes. One could haul blaring music everywhere (if you were strong enough) and forget those earphones. Who could whistle over that? Today, Game Boy, Walkman, Discman, Watchman, i-pod. Blackberry, and cell phones with games and Internet connections--even built-in cameras--have captured the minds, ears, and attention of pedestrians. Why whistle when all of these devices are available?

The generations using these gizmos do not have the choice to make. Oh, of course, they might whistle. Yet, the truth is, whistling seems an aberration today--it simply is not cool. What is more, today's youth and their parents do not even know how since nobody ever showed them. They might know how to hail a cab or call the dog (or the hogs), but not how to make music. In all fairness, though, I must say that it is not as though one never heard whistling in the last 50 years. Everybody knows the themes from "Lassie" and "The Andy Griffith Show." I was interviewed on a radio show with Earle Hagen, who composed and performed the "Mayberry March," and was happy to inform him that his enduring song was my most frequently requested tune. No matter how old you might be, at some point, you just had to be exposed to the Seven Dwarfs whistling "Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, It's Off to Work We Go!" and "I Was Kaiser Billy's Barman." You do not remember that one? Think theme from "The Bridge on the River Kwai."

There is hope, however. More and more, TV and radio commercials are using whistling, from P.C. Richards to Denny's Restaurants to York Air Conditioners to Verizon DSL. I have done a number of TV spots, including one for Verizon where I was hired to replace a synthesized theremin. Imagine, in an age when real musicians are being replaced left and right by computers, they defied convention and employed a human. However, this resulted in a "good news-bad news" proposition. The ad called for an "eerie sci-fi" effect to accompany a "zero gravity" situation where a dog and all the food and condiments are floating over the dining table. I was thrilled to do this commercial since, unlike the norm, this one called for real virtuosity. Instead of the "ordinary, happy-go-lucky any-man-on-the-street pedestrian whistling," the agency actually wanted vibrato and sustaining of notes. It was a joy to do and hear. Visions of "Get me the guy who whistled that Verizon ad!" ran through my brain. However, if one listens to the spot, it sounds so eerie that it does not sound human. So, nobody is hunting for me. Oh well, the pay was good.

On the other hand, in 2004, I starred (on camera for a change) in a coffee commercial--as myself--a professional whistler. Moreover, I am featured in, and am the narrator of, the documentary film, "Pucker-Up--The Fine Art of Whistling," scheduled to be released in 2006.

In the last couple of years, I have performed at numerous well-known venues, including Carnegie Hall and The Kennedy Center. (My two Kennedy concerts are permanently archived on its website.) I also have enjoyed concert bookings from coast-to-coast as well as appearing on many television programs, including "The Today Show," "CBS Early Show," and "CBS Sunday Morning." In 2004, I was invited to whistle for New York Gov. George Pataki at his St. Patrick's Day pre-parade breakfast in front of about 1,500 astonished and appreciative guests in the Grand Ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria. This came about because of my love for whistling Irish music, especially the soulful "Danny Boy," which has become a signature tune for me. In fact, when I originally conceived the theme for my debut CD, it was going to be all Broadway show tunes. Friends insisted that I include "Danny Boy," so I accommodated, and it became the "And Beyond" part of my "Broadway And Beyond" CD.

Later that day, I appeared at other parties, on the Irish Radio Networks, and in an Irish pub spreading the gospel of whistling as a legitimate musical art form. That same week, I performed at the Friar's Club as well as at two concerts for children with the Little Orchestra Society's full symphony orchestra at Lincoln Center. Aside from the pleasure of being backed by a large orchestra--there are other instances where whistlers are performing with symphony orchestras, but not nearly enough--I especially love opportunities to present whistling to children. Perhaps some of them will be inspired, as I was, to tackle the challenge of learning how. I also have whistled at the world-famous Cotton Club in Harlem with its big band and at Ashford & Simpson's nightclub, The Sugar Bar.

The first time I signed up for its open mike night, I was greeted with skepticism and tolerance. The MC asked me to do an up-tempo piece and, in sotto voce, whispered to the band leader to give me only one time through and no band solo to prolong my time on stage--in other words, to get me on and off as quickly as possible. The next couple of times I showed up, I either got on very late or not at all. I am happy to report that the audiences at The Sugar Bar embrace my music; and I feel at home and treated the stone as any other serious musician who comes to share his or her music.