"In most countries, the people who live there are descended for hundreds of years from their forefathers, and their forefathers' forefathers, who all sang the same little tunes and sort of own them; so when the Russians hear a Tchaikovsky symphony, they feel closer to it than say, a Frenchman does, or than we do.
Now, how about us, here in America? What's our folk music? What did our forefathers sing? That's the problem. We all have different kinds of forefathers. For example: Mr. Corigliano, there, has Italian forefathers. And Varga has, Hun ... Varga's forefathers were, what were they? Hungarian. And mine were Jewish. Mr. McGinnis's were Scotch-Irish, and Mr. Wummers were Dutch, I believe, Dutch. And what about your forefathers? What about yours? "
Now, how about us, here in America? What's our folk music? What did our forefathers sing? That's the problem. We all have different kinds of forefathers. For example: Mr. Corigliano, there, has Italian forefathers. And Varga has, Hun ... Varga's forefathers were, what were they? Hungarian. And mine were Jewish. Mr. McGinnis's were Scotch-Irish, and Mr. Wummers were Dutch, I believe, Dutch. And what about your forefathers? What about yours? "
-- Leonard Bernstein
One of the composers who most successfully tackled this was Charles Ives (October 20, 1874 – May 19, 1954), born and bred in New England. He was far from the first composer in this country, but he was approximately to American concert music what Elvis was to rock'n'roll -- the distillation and template for what followed. Ives is one of the masters, right up there with T-Bone Walker, Bill Monroe, and anyone else that high and heavy.
Ives was raised in the church, so church music figures heavily into much of his composing, as do marches, art songs, and typical classical forms (he wrote symphonies, sonatas and all the usual stuff. In 1922, he self-published 114 Songs, which was his own anthology of his own songs. It's defiant DIY-ness prefigured the Buzzcocks' Spiral Scratch by five decades. It included art songs, reworkings of hymns, a great cowboy song, and a number of gorgeous songs about New England and New York (including "The Housatonic At Stockbridge").
They reveal a songsmith who would have recognized the worth of a Dave Alvin (for sheer breadth of musical and lyrical embrace) as well as a pioneer of dissonance. Ives composing was largely finished by 1927. But he was tight with all kinds of young American composers -- Henry Cowell, Nicholas Slomnisky, Bernard Herrman -- and his life had strong ties to new music until his death in 1954.
Ives music was hardly ever played in his lifetime. He was hardly known, despite his genius, which was true and noble. He was -- by day -- also a pioneer of the modern insurance business and became wealthy from that. He gave money to young and struggling composers (Henry Cowell among them). Once, when given some award for composing later in life, he dismissed it by saying, "Awards are badges of medoicrity."
And he was right.
Here are two slices of Ives' musical life.
The first is the beautiful and majestic "Housatonic At Stockbridge". This is the art song version. He also did an orchestral non-vocal rendering of it. Both are gems. I chose this one because the lyric is so well-crafted. I could also have put up "The Things Our Fathers Loved" or "Autumn", both of which have this same fantastic dignity.
The other clip is from the middle movement of his 4th symphony, which is more typical of the type of writing for which Ives is known. The orchestra here is divvied up into three sections, each with its own conductor (I only count two here, but it's generally three). The point of this is to get multiple themes colliding at once. This is Ives at his most punk rock.
Ives these days seems to occupy a weird netherworld, a composer a lot of people refer to but whose music few seem to have heard.
Raymond Scott, Frank Zappa, John Zorn, Spike Jones, Leonard Bernstein -- these are Ives' progeny. Check him out and be thankful. Very thankful.
