What exactly is the American temperament? That's certainly a question to be pondered, but if you're of the opinion that art might reveal something of a national characteristic, there's probably no better place to start to try to unveil something uniquely American than in the incredible music of Charles Ives. To this day Ives is probably less known generally than some of the frankly more accessible American icons who followed in his wake, men like Aaron Copland, Roy Harris and Leonard Bernstein. And yet all of those, and many more, including such disparate international figures like Karlheinz Stockhausen and Edgard Varèse, owe a debt of gratitude to this mild mannered New England insurance magnate who just happened to write (in his spare time, no less) some of the most revolutionary, forward thinking music of the past several centuries.
Probably most of the general public, and I daresay even some classical music aficionados, would very likely simply say Copland "was" American music, at least 20th century style, and that might be true insofar as renown and acceptance goes. In fact, Copland had already moved beyond wunderkind status to the beginning of his middle-aged, if not elder, statesman era by the time Ives even got a major public performance of one of his orchestral works, courtesy of Leonard Bernstein himself in the early 1950's. One might be prone to feel sympathy for Ives' relative lack of acclaim, but the fact is Ives himself saw his compositional efforts as an avocation. He had worked off and on throughout his adolescence and young manhood in a variety of fairly traditional musical jobs, including such things as church organist, but the fact was that he considered his larger orchestral works "for his ears only," fated never to be heard by the public at large. And still his reputation quietly grew among the cognoscenti, so that people like Copland and Bernstein considered Ives their intellectual, if not stylistic, forebear. If Copland especially worked a "kinder, gentler" musical vocabulary, his use of folksong, while never as radically interpolated as Ives' usages typically were, obviously owe more than a little bit to Ives' own use of commonplace melodies.
Charles Ives' beloved New England.
Michael Tilson Thomas is about the most perfect contemporary interpreter imaginable for Ives' iconoclastic music. Thoroughly exuberant and perpetually youthful himself, he brings a certain insouciance to this Keeping Score which is perfectly in keeping with Ives' own contrarian musical personality. More importantly, perhaps, Tilson Thomas also brings a rather unique introspection and meditative quality which also echoes nicely Ives' predilection toward mournful reminiscing, something Tilson Thomas ascribes, as unusual as it may seem, to the Civil War and its effects on Ives' father, a community bandleader who saw the conflict as resulting in the end of the ideal American Republic, at least as it was embodied in the countless small towns which dotted the New England landscape. That may seem rather odd for a Union man to aver, and yet Tilson Thomas makes a cogent case for it coloring Ives' childhood, leading to the elegiac quality of a lot of his music.
It's rather remarkable to note in this regard that Ives' Holidays Symphony, which Tilson Thomas dissects and analyzes on this particular Keeping Score, seems less a celebratory romp and more a quiet, ruminative reflection, as if each holiday is seen through the prism of advancing years and distant memory. Three of the four movements in fact start rather quietly, almost mysteriously if not outright menacingly, building slowly to the sort of cacophony for which Ives became justly famous. Peppered throughout each of these movements are such Ives innovations as polytonality and polyrhythms, some so complex they require an adjunct conductor to assist Tilson Thomas keep everything on the straight and narrow. Also along for this carnival ride are what Tilson Thomas terms "shadow instruments," usually soloists whose almost subliminal musings can barely be heard above the tutti orchestral bombast. Tilson Thomas opts for a rather neat visual trope in presenting these "shadows," opting to place them out in the hall or even on the balcony, away from the stage and the rest of the orchestra. He does similarly with the chorus which augments Holidays' final movement.
Keeping Score is doing an admirable job of presenting a wealth of biographical information about its various subjects while also letting Tilson Thomas guide the San Francisco Symphony through its paces on various works. After the near hour of background information, the symphony performance itself seems largely more understandable and accessible due to Tilson Thomas' inerrant ability to mine the depths of Ives' thinking and philosophies. What on first blush may seem like the random musical musings of a madman becomes at least partly comprehensible, revealing a method to Ives' supposed madness. There's such spirit and even dignity in Ives' writing that it may seem odd that so many people are unable to hear it through the chaos with which Ives layers both the musical content and its emotional import. Tilson Thomas helps to explicate the early childhood experiments Ives' father put Charlie through, forcing him to sing folksongs in one key while the elder Ives played along on the piano in another key, or the famous example of the elder Ives having two marching bands play two completely different pieces in different keys, starting far away from each other, and then slowly marching toward the other creating a riot of sound, something the younger Ives obviously absorbed and used to his own advantage years later in both the Holidays Symphony and many other pieces.
The American Spirit may indeed be something incalculable, ineffable and ultimately indescribable. It can't be denied, however, that listening to Ives' extremely unique sound world gives us a glimmer of understanding about the radical forces inherent in the best minds which have helped to forge our national character. Almost a century after Ives was writing the bulk of his masterpieces, his music still sounds like it's a message from some far off idealized world where all the music of mankind plays simultaneously to the greater glory of some unknown purpose.
Keeping Score is offered on an excellent looking 1080i/AVC encoded Blu-ray which sports surprisingly nuanced color with a bolder palette than the Shostakovich entry I reviewed here recently. This is due partially to the incredibly lovely New England location footage which is featured throughout the documentary portion of the BD, including lushly colored leaves with gorgeous saturation. Detail and depth of field are also marvelous throughout this offering, with wonderfully inky blacks and good contrast. This particular offering gives us visual reminders of Ives' musical proclivities, where he would combine several disparate offerings simultaneously. In the visual language of the documentary, that means superimposed imagery, often featuring Tilson Thomas conducting while a panoply of graphics and landscapes float by. Throughout it all, the Blu-ray offers abundant detail with few if any interlacing artifacts.
Two top flight lossless audio offerings make this Keeping Score a joy to listen to. Dolby True HD mixes are offered in both 5.1 and 7.1, making the antiphonal nature of a lot of Ives' music more clearly heard and understood. While some curmudgeons may complain about the levels of the "shadow instruments," the fact is that Ives himself wanted these effects to be largely subliminal, so even when they are separated in discrete channels they are often outgunned, as it were, by the sheer force of the rest of the orchestra. Both Tilson Thomas' on screen work and voiceover is clear, though some noticeable differences in recording ambience pop up, probably betraying the fact that these were recorded in various locales. The music itself, however, is crisp and clear as a bell, with Ives' often overpowering use of dissonance and polytonality bright without being brittle. Fidelity is top notch through all frequencies.
The same Making of documentary which was on the Shostakovich Keeping Score is included here, as are the text extras about Tilson Thomas, Keeping Score and the San Francisco Symphony. Some interesting trailers for other Keeping Score entries are also offered.
Charles Ives virtually defines the independent streak which typifies the American Spirit. If his Holidays Symphony seems strangely morose at times, it's the dolor of a man who has seen the Promised Land, but who fears his country may never become that vaunted locale itself. This is another stellar Keeping Score outing, and it comes very highly recommended.
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