Violinist and conductor Pekka Kuusisto calls in sick for the rest of 2022 -- but we get to hear him play Ives anyway

Violinist-conductor Pekka K. posted this Facebook announcement Tuesday -- one of the more human (and humane) uses of social media I've encountered.

by Ken

And on Wednesday, when The Strad passed along to its e-mail list Pekka K.'s announcement that he's calling in sick, some background was filled in about his "busy" 2022. There's been a lot of the good kind of busyness on multiple professional fronts: "In addition to violin performance engagements including at the BBC Proms, [he] was named principal guest conductor and artistic co-director at the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra." Then there was busyness of the pretty awful kind: "In his personal life, cancer claimed both his mother and his brother Jaakko within two months in the spring of 2022."

Yikes! Makes you wonder whether the mere five weeks or so he's carved out, which of course includes the holidays, when you figure he may not have been that heavily booked, is enough of a breather, especially when you consider the moving and shaking he had to do to get his sick leave.


IT SO HAPPENS THAT PEKKA K. WAS ALREADY
LURKING IN THE SUNDAY CLASSICS PILE-UP

Afterpost: Gregg Smith & Co.show us that Ives's "bells-and-whistles" version really adds a dimension to "General William Booth Enters into Heaven"

Choral masterworker Gregg Smith (1931-2016)

Archie Drake, bass; Gregg Smith Singers, Columbia Chamber Orchestra, Gregg Smith, cond. Columbia-CBS, recorded in Legion Hall, Hollywood, May 4, 1966
[NOTE: We're going to hear the performance again, with printed vocal text.]

by Ken

My original plan was just to add what follows as an "afterthought" ("Some Afterthoughts on the Performances") to the post "'Jesus came from the courthouse door': 'General William Booth Enters into Heaven' and other, variously irresistible Ives songs," with a note like this:

I'm sure you're tired of hearing about how I don't have a chance to hear audio clips in their post places until a post is posted, and even then not till I can get past the exhaustion of birthing the post. That said, a couple of thoughts.

So I thought it would be better to spin those performances out into an "afterpost."

"Jesus came from the courthouse door": "General William Booth Enters into Heaven" and other, variously irresistible Ives songs

SUNDAY NOONISH UPDATE: Internet Archive seems to have recovered from its outage, so we're back in business.
MONDAY EVENING UPDATE: For "afterthoughts" on the performances
of "General William Smith Enters into Heaven," there's now an "afterpost."

Donald Gramm (1927-1983)  [photo by Christian Steiner]

. . . (Are you washed in the blood, in the blood of the Lamb,
in the blood of the Lamb, the Lamb, of the Lamb, the Lamb?)

Jesus came from the courthouse door,
stretched his hands above the passing poor.
Booth saw not, but led his queer ones,
round and round, round and round and round,
[or: "round and round the mighty courthouse square,"]
and round, and round and round, and round and round . . .

-- text from the Vachel Lindsay poem
"General William Booth Enters into Heaven"

Donald Gramm, bass-baritone; Richard Cumming, piano. Desto, recorded c1964

Donald Gramm, bass-baritone; Donald Hassard, piano. From their Town Hall (New York City) recital of Feb. 24, 1976

Nathan Gunn, baritone; Kevin Murphy, piano. EMI-Warner Classics, recorded in St. Mary's Church, Highgate, London, Mar. 31-Apr. 2, 1998

'I can see him shuffling down, to the barn or to the town': Memories were always close to the heart of Ives's sense of artistic purpose

[POST CONSTRUCTION ZONE -- HARD HATS RECOMMENDED --
OKAY, SO MAYBE WE JUST GO AHEAD AND CALL THIS A POST]

Roberta Alexander and indomitable accompanist Tan Crone

IVES: "Memories":

B, Rather Sad (Adagio)
From the street a strain on my ear doth fall,
a tune as threadbare as that “old red shawl.”
It is tattered, it is torn,
it shows signs of being worn,
it's the tune my Uncle hummed from early morn.
'Twas a common little thing and kind-a sweet,
but 'twas sad and seemed to slow up both his feet.
I can see him shuffling down,
to the barn or to the town,
a-hum-[drawn out]-ming. [Hums]

-- text by the composer

Roberta Alexander, soprano; Tan Crone, piano. Etcetera, recorded in the Netherlands, released 1984
The other performances we heard "highlighted" in the last post:

Jan DeGaetani, mezzo-soprano; Gilbert Kalish, piano. Nonesuch, released 1976

Susan Graham, mezzo-soprano; Pierre-Laurent Aimard, piano. EMI-Warner Classics, recorded in the Grosser Saal of the Vienna Konzerthaus, Nov. 6-8, 2003
And these performances (which we've heard before) remind
us that this could be a nephew remembering his uncle:
Gerald Finley, bass-baritone; Julius Drake, piano. Hyperion, recorded in All Saints Church (Durham Road), East Finchley, London, Nov. 1-12, 2004

Jerry Hadley, tenor; Eric Dalheim, piano. Live performance from the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign), Nov. 14, 2000

by Ken

For personal reasons it was kind of important to me to get some kind of post up, in particular one that advances toward the other end of this detour from the last detour from the previous detour and so on, which produced the post "About this Ives thing, we can do it the easy way, or the hard way; or maybe we have to do it both ways." One thing in particular nagged at me as that post was taking shape, and nagged me even worse once it was posted: that what I was describing as "the easy way" of coming to grips with the Ives legacy was represented only by those three clips of the same under-a-half-minute bit of a song-section that is itself only part of the two-part song "Memories."

I think it made for a darned fine half-minute of music, but in my head I kept hearing and yearning for the full "B" section of "Memories" -- and so here it is. In the process we have also answered the question I posed as to which of those three performances we were going to really focus on. And I hope there are folks who've been here and naturally assumed, noting that Jan DeGaetani was one of the contenders, that she would be the "winner."


LET'S BE PERFECTLY CLEAR: IN THIS GROUPING
OF PERFORMANCES, THERE WASN'T ANY "LOSER"

About this Ives thing, we can do it the easy way, or the hard way; or maybe we have to do it both ways

[MONDAY MORNING UPDATE: The post is more or less reconstructed (if you missed the earlier notice, I cleverly overwrote an essentially complete version of the post with an earlier file that contained just the opening), but I need some sleep before even attempting to read it. I should also find a link for the commentaries Ives included in the Concord score (which he had published himself, along with the volume of Essays Before a Sonata).
[MONDAY EVENING UPDATE: I've fixed some stuff and added some stuff, including a third Decoration Day recording (the Zinman). -- Ken]

(1) A taste of THE EASY WAY

Not quite half a minute from the "B" section, "Rather Sad," of Ives's song "Memories" -- from two performances we've heard and a third we haven't:


Jan DeGaetani, mezzo-soprano; Gilbert Kalish, piano. Nonesuch, released 1976

Roberta Alexander, soprano; Tan Crone, piano. Etcetera, recorded in the Netherlands, released 1984

Susan Graham, mezzo-soprano; Pierre-Laurent Aimard, piano. EMI-Warner Classics, recorded in the Grosser Saal of the Vienna Konzerthaus, Nov. 6-8, 2003

and: (2) A taste of THE HARD WAY

Jeremy Denk plays "The Alcotts," the third -- and much the user-friendliest -- movement of Ives's Concord Sonata, apparently an encore at the 92nd Street Y, New York City, Dec. 3, 2011. (Watch it here - with applause!)

by Ken

We've got to get the Ives thing back on track. It's hard, but we'll just have to will our way through it.

As suggested above, we've already heard the complete performances of Ives's two-part song "Memories" from which the first two excerpts above are drawn, and of course we're going to hear all three performances complete, along with some others, though we'll be focusing on one in particular. Can you guess which? Maybe it'll be clearer when we hear their full "B" sections. For now, I don't think much more needs to be said about this almost excruciatingly beautiful half-minute of words set to music. Through the magic of the singer's memories, in just this bit of the song, I think we can see and hear her uncle, and understand his importance to her.

So that's our taste of the "easy" part of an Ives reckoning, and when we come back to it we're going to be sampling and resampling a number of Ives songs. Of the "hard" part, I've offered, in "The Alcotts" from Ives's massive (generally in the 45-50-minute range) Concord Sonata what seems to me the most painless sample of a problem I realize I run into a lot with Ives, as happened when I stacked Central Park in the Dark on top of a couple of other short orchestral works, Decoration Day (one of the components of the Holidays Symphony, which you'll recall the composer always thought of as potentially either free-standing or composite) and The Unanswered Question.

You remember them:

There's one major Ives work I've really loved for a long time, and we're going to hear it again, with a whopper of an introduction

[In our Ives journey we're really not quite ready for this, but at this point it's got pretty much all the elements I intended for it, and if it doesn't exactly add up to a post, exactly, I don't know whether it's worth the effort to neaten these elements into more proper form. -- Ed.]

Ah, good old KS 6155 -- still for me the basic Ives recording. (It's
been reissued in many forms, and shouldn't be hard to find on CD.)

"All the brave resolves in the world won't make good music. Nor will patriotic songs, or impudent shockers, or reverent gestures toward Bach and Beethoven. It's talent that counts in the end, and talent is what Ives had, and in such abundance that we must call it genius."

-- Leonard Bernstein, in a 1966 discussion of Ives
which we'll be hearing and reading

ARE WE READY FOR THIS? (IF NOT, NEVER FEAR:
MAESTRO BERNSTEIN IS ABOUT TO PREPARE US!)

"It is something to shout about, isn't it? Especially dating --
as it does -- from 1913." -- Maestro Bernstein
[Gotta know? This clip is also "Ex. 9" below. -- Ed.]

"LEONARD BERNSTEIN DISCUSSES CHARLES IVES" (1966)


Columbia-CBS-Sony, recorded in New York City, June 2, 1966
[no commercial use, and no copyright infringement intended]

Harken unto Chas Ives from the right angle(s) and behold a veritable musical magic-maker

[WELL, WE DIDN'T GET IT ALL DONE, BUT THIS
WILL HAVE TO BE "CLOSE ENOUGH" FOR NOW]

The Housatonic at Kent (Conn.)  [photo by the Housatonic Valley Association]

"The Housatonic at Stockbridge [1914] was inspired by a Sunday morning walk that Mrs. Ives and I took near Stockbridge [Mass.], the summer after we were married [1908]. We walked in the meadows along the river, and heard the distant singing from the church across the river. The mist had not entirely left the river bed, and the colors, the running water, the banks and elm trees were something that one would always remember. Robert Underwood Johnson, in his poem The Housatonic at Stockbridge, paints the scene beautifully."

-- Ives, Memos, on no. 3 of his Three Places in New England

Eastman-Rochester Orchestra, Howard Hanson, cond. Mercury, rec. 1957

Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, David Zinman, cond. Argo, recorded 1994
[Note: Eventually I'll say a bit about these differently terrific performances, Hanson's pulsing with life, Zinman's exploding with musical perception.]

OR, AS AN "ART SONG" -- WITHOUT ORCHESTRA, BUT
WITH ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON'S WORDS (1921)

Contented river! In thy dreamy realm
the cloudy willow and the plumy elm:
thou beautiful! From ev'ry dreamy hill
what eye but wanders with thee at thy will.

Contented river! And yet over-shy
to mask thy beauty from the eager eye;
hast thou a thought to hide from field and town?
In some deep current of the sunlit brown.

Ah! there's a restive ripple,
and the swift red leaves
September's firstlings faster drift.
Wouldst thou away, dear stream?
Come, whisper near!
I also of much resting have a fear:
Let me tomorrow thy companion be,
by fall and shallow to the adventurous sea!

-- text by R.U.J. ("by permission," the score tells us)

Jan DeGaetani (ms); Gilbert Kalish, piano. Nonesuch, released 1976

Gerald Finley (bs-b); Julius Drake, piano. Hyperion, recorded 2004
[Note: Wow! Not that they'll top these, but we're going to hear a couple more performances of the song which I think will add to our picture of it.]

Then again, not necessarily without orchestra --
Michael Tilson Thomas incorporated the text (sung chorally!) in his 1999 live-performance recording of Three Places in New England.


San Francisco Symphony Chorus and Orchestra, MTT, cond. RCA, 1999

AS WE KNOW, MEMORIES MATTER -- A LOT -- IN IVES'S MUSIC

In that spirit, here are parts of two Ives songs we've already heard, though not in these performances (which we will be hearing in full). Are there any you like especially -- or maybe not so much?

Of those "tunes of long ago," Ives sings to us: "I know not what are the words, but they sing in my soul of the things our Fathers loved"

I think there must be a place in the soul
all made of tunes, of tunes of long ago.
I hear the organ on the Main Street corner,
Aunt Sarah humming Gospels; summer evenings,
the village cornet band playing in the square.
The town’s Red, White and Blue,
all Red, White and Blue.
Now! Hear the songs!
I know not what are the words,
but they sing in my soul of the things our Fathers loved.

-- text by the composer

Donald Gramm, bass-baritone; Donald Hassard, piano. From their Town Hall recital of Feb. 24, 1976

Jan DeGaetani, mezzo-soprano; Gilbert Kalish, piano. Nonesuch, released 1976

Gerald Finley, bass-baritone; Julius Drake, piano. Hyperion, recorded in All Saints Church (Durham Road), East Finley, London, Nov. 10-12, 2004

by Ken

The idea this week is to finish up with our Ives detour, and to that end we start out with a song, actually a very special song, "The Things Our Fathers Loved," in three really lovely performances. (I had a not-so-lovely one I was going to throw out, but who needs that kind of tsuris on a hot summer day?)


WE'VE STILL GOT ONE MORE IVES SONG NOW . . .

And still more to come when we continue, like maybe tomorrow? What's more, with tomorrow one of the compositionally celebrated Ives "New England holidays," I thought we might take another shot at getting through the four-holiday Holidays Symphony.

But first, our second song --

Last week I noted: "I think we'll be spending more time with the Ives songs." Amazingly, this prediction has come true!

YES, OUR NEW OLD FRIEND GERALD FINLEY IS BACK,
AND HE'S ABOUT TO BLOW THE ROOF OFF THE JOINT

IVES: "They are there! (Fighting for the people's new free world)" (1942-43, solo version)

Gerald Finley, bass-baritone; Magnus Johnston, violin; Julius Drake, piano. Hyperion, recorded Feb. 16-20, 2007

by Ken

In last week's post, "A touch of Ives (featuring a bunch of questions -- not least: Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)," I concluded a batch of quick hits on the Ives songworld with the unassuming note: "NOTE: I think we'll be spending more time with the Ives songs." Which I thought would be safe, because I had a number of threads I wanted to pursue, starting as usual with several that had failed to make it into the current post. What I didn't anticipate, even after plugging away at the material all week, was that I would never quite figure out --

HOW DO WE REJOIN OUR LISTEN-TO OF SELECT IVES SONGS?

What I came up with, sort of, was a quick version -- no multiple performances, no printed song texts -- of the new material that would go above the byline, which would then be repeated in more typical, more discursive Sunday Classics form. And I stuck to this seemingly simple agenda long after it became clear that it wasn't going to work. Even pursuing only a couple of the threads I anticipated from last week, that "above the byline" run-through was stretching out to the horizon.

Unfortunately, "Plan B" turned out to be a cheat version of "Plan A": The so-called quick run-through was dragged down below the byline, where it no longer needed to be quite so compact, and from it a single performance was plucked out and made the post opener. The picture of Gerald Finley -- like the picture of Sam Ramey we're going to see in a bit -- was already ready, from a still-earlier conception of this post that had long since gone by the wayside. (I just had to find them, among the several versions-in-progress of this continuation post that had already sprouted.

So here we are, basically pursuing that rickety, largely discredited Plan B, which continues with several proposed options for rejoining our listen-to of select Ives songs.

(1) We heard Donald Gramm sing "Serenity" with an Aaron Copland intro; we could hear the other two songs from that TV group

A touch of Ives (featuring a bunch of questions -- not least: Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)

EARLY TUESDAY UPDATE, with (1) expanded post title; (2) added performance of "Serenity" by Donald Gramm (introduced by Aaron Copland); (3) extra-credit "Questions for Reflection" at the end; (4) smaller touches of assorted sorts here and there

IVES: "Serenity" (1919)

O, Sabbath rest of Galilee!
O, calm of hills above,
where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
the silence of eternity,
interpreted by love.
Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
till all our strivings cease:
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
and let our ordered lives confess,
the beauty of thy peace.

-- text by John Greenleaf Whittier

"Serenity" was arranged from a sketch of an ensemble "song" earlier than May 1911 and may well be connected to Ives's projected Whittier Overture, one of his "Men of Literature" series. He suggested this trance-like piece was best sung as a unison chant, over its repetitive chiming accompaniment figure.

-- Calum MacDonald, from his Hyperion booklet note

"Serenity" has a vocal line that hovers between just a few notes, following the natural speech rhythm of Whittier's poem in a very subtle and touching way. It's a truly inspired song. I use that word rarely, but I can use it in relation to "Serenity."

-- Aaron Copland, introducing Donald Gramm's TV performance

Jan DeGaetani, mezzo-soprano; Gilbert Kalish, piano. Nonesuch, recorded c1975

Gerald Finley, bass-baritone; Julius Drake, piano. Hyperion, recorded in All Saints Church (Durham Road), East Finchley, London, Nov. 10-12, 2004

[orch. John Adams] Thomas Hampson, baritone; members of the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, Michael Tilson Thomas, cond. RCA, from MTT's Charles Ives: An American Journey CD, recorded live in Davies Symphony Hall, Sept. 30-Oct. 3, 1999

JUST ADDED: Bonus performance, introduced by Aaron Copland

Donald Gramm, having finished with his part of "Serenity," listens as Richard Cumming sculpts the song's brief but haunting final phrases.

[introduction by Aaron Copland; song at 0:20] Donald Gramm, bass-baritone; Richard Cumming, piano. TV performance (you can watch here; perhaps from NBC, Nov. 29, 1964?)

by Ken

I know this has been a long time coming, and this may seem like a modest payoff, but "Serenity" is a special kind of song, and I think there's a lot to take in from our performers, who include our new budding favorite Gerald Finley, who I promised in the last post, "Some funny things happened on the way through Ives's Holidays," would be leading us into our confrontation with Charles Ives, and one of Sunday Classics' most beloved singers, Jan DeGaetani.


WONDER WHY JAN DeGAETANI IS SO TREASURED HERE?

Glad you wondered! It's a perfect excuse to take yet another listen to this jaw-droppingly radiant performance, with some pretty amazingly concentrated and songfully articulated piano-playing by her longtime piano partner, one of America's most distinguished pianists, Gil Kalish.

Some funny things happened on the way through Ives's Holidays

Among which the nicest thing was that
we ran into bass-baritone Gerald Finley

In recital at New York City's Alice Tully Hall, 2012

[photo by Richard Termine/New York Times]

Gerald Finley, bass-baritone; London Symphony Chorus and Orchestra. LSO Live, recorded live in the Barbican, Apr. 29-30, 2005

by Ken

So there we were ("Decoration Day greetings -- with 'old New England'-style memories provided for us by Charles Ives"), making typically (for this operation) unsteady one-step-forward, several-steps sideways progress toward Schumann's Humoreske, the final step in our Radu Lupu remembrance ("We're still targeting Radu Lupu's Schumann Humoreske, but first we're going to detour . . ."). Really, could we let another Decoration Day (probably better known lo this past half-century as Memorial Day) pass without taking note of Charles Ives's holiday musical reminiscence? From which it seemed only natural once and for all to retrace and then complete our circuit of the four remembrance pieces that make up Ives's Holidays Symphony.

It was while I was laboring on that detour down Ives alley that things started going haywire, with one thing leading to another and then another, until by happy chance we were arranging to hear first one and then two Ives songs sung by Canada's Gerald Finley, from the 61 he's recorded on his not one but two Ives song CDs. A fresh encounter with Gerald F seemed an altogether pleasanter prospect than the piling-up Ives craziness, or for that matter the hard-to-penetrate Schumann-piano perplex.

While Sunday Classics can hardly claim Gerald F as an "old friend" of Sunday Classics, we have heard him in some choice musical situations. For example, back when we were remembering conductor Bernard Haitink, and dipped into his 1980 and 2005 live recordings of the Beethoven Ninth Symphony, Gerald F was the 2005 bass soloist, and so we've already heard the magical moment I've pulled out above: when the symphony discovered that it could sing!


WE HEARD GERALD F. IN ANOTHER COLLEGIAL SETTING

Decoration Day greetings -- with "old New England"-style memories provided for us by Charles Ives

According to Ives, Decoration Day "was started as a brass band
overture, but never got very far that way" -- yet it could have!

Decoration Day was completed in 1912. Ives arranged the piece for full orchestra, and it lasts about nine to ten minutes. The piece is scored for 2 flutes with optional piccolo, 2 oboes and solo English horn, 2 clarinets and optional E-flat clarinet, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 or 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, snare drum, bass drum with attached cymbals, high bells or celesta, low bells, and strings. Numerous instruments are called on to play offstage, including the English horn, two solo violins and a solo viola, the high and low bells, and a trumpet imitating a military bugle.

Ives was inspired to write Decoration Day after listening to his father's marching band play on Decoration Day. The marching band would march from the Soldiers' Monument at the center of Danbury to Wooster Cemetery, and there Ives would play "Taps." The band would leave often playing Reeves's Second Regiment Connecticut National Guard March.

"Decoration Day begins with an extended meditative section, mostly for strings," symbolizing morning and "the awakening of memory." Ives has the aforementioned players separated from the orchestra play as if they are alone, in what he calls "shadow lines." The music slowly unfolds, yielding an eerie mix of major and minor keys. Ives begins to incorporate his memories of Decoration Day into his piece by transforming "Marching Through Georgia" into the mournful "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground." At this point, we are back in the cemetery where his father's marching band stops, and just as Ives played "Taps" as a boy, he writes "Taps" into Decoration Day. "Taps" is coupled with "Nearer, My God, to Thee" played by the strings. Ives uses "Taps" to pave a way from the despairing section to the elated section. "On the last note of 'Taps' the music begins to surge into a drumbeat that crescendos until with a sudden cut we are in the middle of the march back to town, and the pealing melody of 'Second Regiment.'" Ives follows this jubilation with the music from the beginning of the piece.

The score of Decoration Day was published for the first time in 1989. -- from Wikipedia (footnotes available onsite)

Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Michael Tilson Thomas, cond. CBS-Sony, recorded in Medinah Temple, 1986
Arranged for concert band by Jonathan Elkus

"The President's Own" U.S. Marine Band, Col. Timothy W. Foley, cond. USMB, recorded in the Rachel M. Schlesinger Concert Hall, Northern Virginia Community College, Alexandria, VA, c2003

by Ken

Yes, for over a half-century now it's been federally enshrined as Memorial Day, and for a number of reasons a good swap-out, but even when Ives wrote his Decoration Day he understood it -- like the other three holidays he musicalized from his New England memory bank -- as a memory event. (For those to whom the very idea of a "Decoration Day" comes out of nowhere, the "decoration" involved didn't involve sprucing up the den or the patio, but decorating the graves of Civil War veterans

We've already "done" Thanksgiving and Forefathers' Day, the first-composed but eventually finally-positioned movement of Ives's Holidays Symphony, four pieces he always thought suitable for individual or collective performance. And I could swear we've done Fourth of July (though the only post I've found is one that was never published), which as the "summer" installment would take its place before the concluding "fall" one. And we still haven't touched the opening "winter" entry, Washington's Birthday. But now we've got the "spring" holiday, Decoration Day front and center.

We've got some more ground to cover -- more of Ives and Decoration Day itself, and some associated Ivesiana == including, I'm thinking, the thematically related Central Park in the Dark and The Unanswered Question.

Of course we've also got to finish up our Radu Lupu remembrance with the final installment devoted to Schumann's Humoreske, which is coming along but not quite ready yet. And another project has arisen, in the form of interstitial loose ends from last week's "We're still targeting Radu Lupu's Schumann Humoreske, but first we're going to detour through some miniatures: kiddie keyboard goodies and a whirlwind of a song." If you were here, you may recall that that "Schumann piano" post wandered through the likes of Schumann's song "Widmung," the Gilbert and Sullivan duet "I have a song to sing, O!" from The Yeomen of the Guard, and the Hugo Wolf Italian Songbook comical song "Wie lange schon," with the piano postlude depicting the violin-playing of the song narrator's heaven-sent boyfriend. We've got addenda to all three, of various sorts. Coming soon.

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Have a happy Charles Ives-accompanied Thanksgiving!

"Certainly one of the things Ives wants to do is to provoke us, to challenge us to think about music in ways we never have," says Michael Tilson Thomas as he talks about and performs Charles Ives's Holidays Symphony with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra in their PBS series Keeping Score. You can watch the Ives show here.

by Ken

We've done it before, and by gosh, we're going to do it again: celebrate Thanksgiving with the symphonic poem the American original composer Charles Ives (1874-1954) created to depict Thanksgiving, which formed part of his Holidays Symphony (or New England Holidays), made up of Washington's Birthday, Decoration Day, The Fourth of July, and lastly Thanksgiving and Forefathers' Day, which fall somewhere between independent pieces and movements in a collective whole.

This commentary appeaers on the webpage accompanying the Keeping Score show devoted to the Holidays Symphony.

A hundred years ago, Charles Ives composed a portrait of a year in New England. The Holidays Symphony veers between tender sentiment and savage chaos, a sonic three-ring circus. Beautiful and provocative, the composition, like the rest of Ives' music, encourages the listener to think about sound in new ways.

The poet Walt Whitman makes an interesting comparison with Ives. Both men experimented with their art forms, juxtaposed serious themes with frivolous beauty, and spent decades editing and revising their masterpieces. Also like Whitman, Ives imagined various musical strains from around the world merging into a single song of mankind, but whereas Whitman used music as a metaphor, Ives used music as his medium.

The emotional material for Ives' music came from his experiences growing up in the town of Danbury, Connecticut, the son of the town bandmaster, George Ives. George had been a Union Army bandmaster in the Civil War and had a playful relationship with music that he that he passed on to his son. Once, George had two bands march toward each other while playing different songs, just to know what it would sound like.

Ives wrote most of his music between 1900 and 1920, a period in which the United States became a world power. He worried that prosperity was leading Americans to lose touch with their values. In an attempt to enshrine the America he cherished, Ives composed four movements that trace boyhood memories of seasonal celebrations, an American "Four Seasons." This was the Holidays Symphony.

NOW WE HEAR TWO PERFORMANCES OF THANKSGIVING,

including one conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas -- an earlier recording with the Chicago Symphony. Along with the performances we have the Keeping Score Web commentary on Thansgiving.

IVES: Holidays Symphony:
iv. Thanksgiving and Forefathers' Day


Baltimore Symphony Chorus and Orchestra, David Zinman, cond. Argo, recorded September 1994

Chicago Symphony Chorus and Orchestra, Michael Tilson Thomas, cond. CBS-Sony, recorded 1986

The Thanksgiving movement can be traced to Ives' college days at Yale. Music originally written for the organ at Center Church in New Haven was reworked into the final movement of the Holidays.

Thanksgiving illustrates the changes that occur when ideas confront one another. Once again Ives divides the orchestra into groups playing hymns in two opposing keys. Most prominent is the traditional Thanksgiving hymn, "The Shining Shore." Again, the bottom drops out, and we hear the swing of a scythe—either the harvest or the Grim Reaper has arrived. The ultimate question is asked again and as the music picks up again toward celebration and noise, the listener expects a confrontational crunch.

Instead, Ives surprises us. A large chorus sounds out Thanksgiving hymns. The choir sings a round and the whole procession passes into the distance. The different songs merge into one universal hymn of mankind.

Recognition came late to Ives. Thanksgiving was first publicly performed at the premiere of the complete Holidays Symphony in April of 1954, just a month before Ives' death.

Happy Thanksgiving! (And also Forefathers' Day, though that's not till December 22.)

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