Floren relates that the director of his college orchestra coolly informed him there was no place for an accordionist. In his autobiography, "Accordion Man" (Stephen Greene Press, 1981), written with his daughter Randee, Mr. Then and now, it was a peculiar instrument to feature in a big band. Floren in Roslyn, S.D.), and both took up the accordion, whose tremulous music reminded their families and immigrant neighbors of home. Both were sons of immigrant farmers in the Dakotas (Welk in Strasburg, N.D., Mr. At its heart was a folksy familiarity that Welk attributed to his and Mr. And, "You have to play what the people understand."ĭespite the disdain of highbrow critics, "The Lawrence Welk Show" became one of the most enduring programs in television history, and its weekly reruns still attract millions of viewers. "Keep it simple so the audience can feel like they can do it, too," Welk would say. Welk, a farm boy turned bandleader, described the band's sentimental and danceable arrangements as "Champagne music." During his renditions of "Lady of Spain," his showpiece, he would place a leg against his sequined accordion and furrow his brow in concentration. His serene smile earned him the moniker "the happy Norwegian," and he liked to make a song hum by trilling each note. A farmer's son from South Dakota, he was a quintessential part of the Welk musical family - a wholesome and amiable company of singers, dancers and musicians adored by nostalgic viewers for their easygoing take on big-band music. Floren was one of the country's most famous accordionists, certainly the only one featured weekly by a big band with a coast-to-coast television audience. Myron Floren, an accordion virtuoso whose televised solos with the Lawrence Welk band became a staple of the cheerful folksiness that was the Welk show's hallmark, died on Saturday at his home in Rolling Hills, Calif., said Margaret Heron, syndication manager for the show.