Is it a generation problem? Because on the other hand, carnival parties are booming. Events with non-stop music provided by young, loud bands in large halls are sold out. Unorganised mega-events on the street, like on 11th November on Zülpicher Straße in Cologne and on Weiberfastnacht on Siegburg's Marktplatz, are becoming a problem for the police. Too many people packed into too little space with too much alcohol and aggressive potential. So are we talking about a series of opposites: party versus tradition, young versus old, Büttenredner versus rock band?

Event organisers agree that it is becoming increasingly difficult to integrate dancing troupes and old-style carnival orators into the programmes of the traditional Prunksitzungen (“pomp and ceremony shows). Until a few years ago, there was an unwritten law of the standardised carnival liturgy that resembled a Catholic mass: Words and music alternated, and people got up and down; Tanzgarden performed elaborately choreographed movements with acrobatic elements; orators with more or less cult status interspersed the programme with witty remarks on current affairs.

And then there’s the music. Traditional songs played over and over again with the occasional new song. The whole thing presided over by the Sitzungspräsident (President of the event) and the Elferrat (Carnival Committee consisting of 11 members), assisted by a band playing music for the entrances and exits and marking the right places with a flourish when the speaker manages to deliver a punch line. That's the tradition.

But a countermovement has been growing over many years. For example, the alternative Stunksitzung (the word 'Prunk', or pomp, is replaced by 'Stunk', which means stink) in Cologne, is like a cabaret alternative to stuffy traditional carnival. A few years ago, they skilfully satirised the typical carnival by in a ten-minute time-lapse: The Tanzgarde runs onto the stage, flourish, perform a Stippeföttche (two guards stand back-to-back and rub their buttocks together) and then run off. The orator runs up, three words, flourish, and off again. There’s a similar event in Bonn called Pink Punk Pantheon.

There has also long been a noticeable change in music bands. A good 50 years ago, the Bläck Fööss brought some colours onto the stage with their hippie style. Brings made carnival music respectable. And younger bands like Kasalla and Cat Ballou had fresh lyrics and guitar-driven music in their repertoire. Then along came Querbeat, a brass band in the marching band tradition that rocked the stage. The musicians, who all sprouted from the big band of Beuel's Kardinal Frings Gymnasium, have since retired from the carnival business, but there are hopeful successors like the band Druckluft.

One by one, older musicians in bands have been gradually phased out and replaced by younger ones. This allows the audience to slowly get used to the new faces. In the case of the Bläck Fööss, the last two remaining founding members recently said goodbye, and in the case of the Höhnern, Henning Krautmacher retired along with his character moustache. All this in the very season that celebrates 200 years of official carnival in Cologne.

The year 1823 is considered to be the founding year of four big carnival societies. These are the "Rote Funken" and "Die Große von 1823", then the "Hellige Knäächte un Mägde" and the "Lyskirchener Hellige Knäächte un Mägde". It is probably no coincidence that the Funken have set themselves the task of "reviving and developing traditions", as stated in their concept paper. There are reports that the old traditional rituals are no longer so popular. However, it is comforting to know that nothing is as constant as change. Especially in carnival.

It’s difficult to confine the fifth season (which is how carnival is known) to laws and regulations. After all, the very idea of carnival is an anarchistic one. Since time immemorial, the usual rules do not apply between 11th November and Ash Wednesday. They are replaced by creativity and excess. And so any attempt to sort out the carnival chaos is ultimately a futile endeavour.

With the exception of Cologne and the Rhineland, carnival has been around since the Middle Ages. The term "carnival" derives from the Latin "caro vale", which means "flesh, farewell!" In the Middle Ages, celebrations took place between the Feast of the Magi and Ash Wednesday. Italy in particular is considered the cradle of revelry before the pre-Easter Lent. Cultural scholars assume that the origin of the carnival is connected with the celebration of the spring festivals, the Lupercalia. These were unceremoniously placed before the church-imposed period of abstinence. Venice and Rome were the first centres of revelry and gluttony. The characteristic masks of the Venetians come from the trove of Italian comedy.

So it should not be surprising that 200 years ago in Cologne the "Carneval Hero" (today’s Prince Carneval) was joined in the carnival procession by the "Carneval Princess Venetia". The former travelled in a triumphal chariot drawn by eight horses, which had the shape of a golden dolphin and whose upswept tail formed the sky above the hero's throne.

The central motto of the festival was: "Here in this great city, where everyone has their own idiosyncrasy, no one must be cleverer than the rest of us." And that is the alluring core message of the celebration: whether poor, rich, tall, short, clever or stupid - differences count for nothing. Everyone is equal. Until Ash Wednesday, that is, when everything turns back to normal.

Carnival is not dying out. On the contrary, it has diversified in many different directions. The number of event formats has increased. In recent years, for example, regular sing-along evenings under the motto "Loss mer singe" have become fashionable, not only at carnival time. The Lanxess Arena and the football stadium of the Football Club Cologne can certainly be filled with packs of people singing along. And there are Cologne music festivals in the summer and carol evenings at Advent. For older audiences there’s the "nostalgia session". Here, veteran carnival Büttenredner like the verse artist Willi Armbröster are popular again. And at the same time, they are a forum for younger artists who draw on the old songs of Willi Ostermann and Jupp Schmitz. Nostalgia sessions are always sold out.

Büttenredner have also become more modern. The "Blötschkopp" Marc Metzger has been delighting audiences for years with his cheeky comments, even if they are directed at the Elferrat or the audience. The "Herrengedeck" trio got off to a flying start at the television special for the proclamation of the Cologne Triumvirate. The three protagonists of the "Sitzungspräsident" Volker Weininger, JP Weber and Martin Schopps - have already been firm favourites on the carnival stages as individuals. As a trio, they proved unbeatable.

So anyone who thinks the carnival tradition is dead is mistaken. Even if it’s tough for organisers because of things like Covid, floods, the war in Ukraine and, most recently, inflation and high energy prices, because some people think carefully whether they still have enough money for the ticket to a carnival event – there is still an unshakeable hope for improvement.

At this point we look back at the years 1990/91, when carnival parades were cancelled first because of storms and then because of the second Gulf War. Some of the carnival candy that rained down on revellers the following year was past its sell-by date - after all, it was more than two years old. Carnival recovered from that too.

And if you ask around today, it is true that many organisers in the urban strongholds of Cologne, Bonn or Düsseldorf are subdued. Out in the countryside, however, the parties are usually fully booked. People want to celebrate again after years of deprivation. Singing, swaying and laughing are an outlet to forget yourworries for a few hours. And the Rhineland carnival people need that more than ever these days.

Original text: Jörg Manhold

Translation: Jean Lennox