Cellar Under the Rams – Ewa Demarczyk and Piotr Skrzynecki

Probably two of the most renowned Cellar powerhouses – Ewa Demarczyk and Piotr Skrzynecki.
The genesis of the renowned Kraków cabaret is inextricably linked with the ideas of Krzysztof Zrałek (1933-2001). He was the Cellar’s first MC and directed the group’s hybrid lyrical and nonsensical performances, until he opted to focus on scenography (set design) and on directing theatre plays and films. His creative output, under the assumed surname of Pankiewicz, is impressive. The compere duties were taken over by the ever elegant Mariusz Chwedczuk, also a set designer in the making. But one day Chwedczuk, who in the long run felt like a fish out of water in the role of an MC, did not show up. It was a stalemate, as - despite sincere apologies and explanation - the audience demanded a regular show. At that moment, Piotr Skrzynecki was pushed on stage. Suffering from extreme stage fright, he blabbered and drivelled on. Unexpectedly, he ingratiated himself with the public. Initially, he was so shy that he was in constant need of assistance. He was accompanied by Barbara Nawratowicz, who held his hand as a gesture of support. For that reason, it is believed that he kept his signature bell close at hand. He rattled it passionately whenever he lost his composure. When the bell was nowhere to be seen, he banged a fork against a bottle or a tray. Before long, however, Skrzynecki tamed the stage and his performative acts, whether his bell ringing, his clumsy contortions or falling off stairs, were embraced and enjoyed by the audience.
Ewa Demarczyk made her debut in 1962 in Cyrulik [Pol. Barber surgeon], a cabaret established by medical students. There, she acquainted Rajmund Jarosz, graduate of the AST National Academy of Theatre Arts in Kraków and one of the founders of the Cellar Under the Rams. Enamoured of her singing, she soon invited Demarczyk to perform. Before long she became a major star. In late 1962, when the authorities suspended all the performances in the Cellar’s regular venue, the cabaret circle was determined to secure their continuity, relying on private flats and houses as temporary headquarters. Among others, the Cellar moved to the House of the Polish Writers’ Union [U Literatów] at 22 Krupnicza Street. In 1964, having been granted an official permission, it resumed its artistic activities in its original location.
In June 1962, Demarczyk entered the 1st Student Singer Competition. She performed two songs composed by Zbigniew Konieczny: “O czemu Pan…” (Why, Oh Why), lyrics by Agnieszka Osiecka, and “Karuzela z Madonnami” (Carousel with Madonnas), lyrics by Miron Białoszewski. She hardly made it. Eventually, the jury awarded her the second prize, claiming that the composer violated Białoszewski’s masterful poem.
In the spring of 1963, Demarczyk and Konieczny were invited to enter the 3rd Sopot International Song Festival, but… although, as it was stated by the organisers, the singer made an impression, she was not accomplished enough to grace the stage in Sopot. It was only at the 1st Opole Festival, which took place in June (just before the Sopot Festival that she did not qualify for), that Demarczyk was duly acknowledged, receiving the Grand Prix.
As a result, she was immediately invited to perform in Sopot. She sang outside of the competition and was awarded the Critics’ Prize for “Czarne anioły” (Black Angels), a song composed by Konieczny, with lyrics by Wiesław Dymny. As luck would have it, international audience members present that night in Sopot included Bruno Coquatrix, the then Managing Director of the prestigious Olympia Hall (L’Olympia) in Paris, where previously critically acclaimed A-listers, such as Édith Piaf and Jacques Brel, triumphed. Coquatrix took delight in Demarczyk and was also impressed by the Cellar. He invited everyone to the Bristol Hotel in Warsaw, where he treated them to a candlelight dinner, served at a table with intricate floral arrangements. But the hungover Cellar regulars schlepped to the restaurant two hours late. Their host hit the roof. He ladled out all the immaculately prepared dishes into one bowl, generously poured assorted sauces over the food, and mixed everything together. It is said that, grinning sadistically, he offered the sludge to his guests. With the exception of Piotr Skrzynecki, they feasted on the goo, not minding the affront at all. To their surprise, seven months later Demarczyk and Konieczny were invited to an audition in Paris, which was scheduled to take place in front of an 800-strong audience: Parisian connoisseurs of chanson and Polish expats. Demarczyk refused to perform without a live band. Her request necessitated transport of sheet music and shipment of idiosyncratic instruments from Poland - alloy wheels, pipes, steel plates - 30 kilos’ worth of scrap metal. And to top it all, the French musicians had to learn how to play them. It took five days for the shipping and customs clearance to take effect. Demarczyk’s performance was a resounding success. Coquatrix was radiant, envisioned an international career for the singer, and attended to her every wish. Her concert proper was to happen next month. But the events took a radical turn, a turn for the worse for Demarczyk. The Olympia Hall took a sudden interest in the Algerian musician Enrico Macias and the changing political situation had, as commented by Zygmunt Konieczny, a considerable impact on programming and reception: on who was in and who was out. Demarczyk’s performance was a miss, because at that time - as the Paris Olympia was jam-packed with Algerians - the artist was unrelatable. And though Demarczyk did not win the French over (and failed to become another Piaf), her remarkable - given the communist Polish reality - career started right then. The world perhaps did not embrace her, but it surely opened its doors.