The Birth and Death of Charles Ives and His Physical Legacy by Susannah Thornton

Charles and Harmony Ives in West Redding, 1946 (photo: historyofredding.com)

Charles Ives has been referred to by many in the classical music world as America’s first true national composer (though the validity of this is certainly debatable if not completely untrue). Ives fits the bill for any number of reasons. Fully American in birth, Charles Edward Ives was born in Danbury, Connecticut, on October 20, 1874 to George Ives, a U.S. Army bandleader in the Civil War, and Mary Parmelee, a homemaker. He was American in his influence- much of his father’s career as a bandleader can be heard in the tunes references throughout Ives’ body of composition. He was also American in the fact that he was truly living a variation of the American dream; he was an insurance salesman by day to pay the bills, and a composer and musician in his remaining time. Any number of Google searches will return results stating Ives’ great influence on the American tradition of classical composition. “…unifying the voice of the American people…”, “one of the first great American composers of international renown,” “the first true great American composer…undoubtedly, and “ significant American composer” are all blurbs appearing within the stubs of links only on the first page of results. Such an influential character seems to be one whose legacy would also be well preserved. Unfortunately, however, this is not the case.

The Ives House in Danbury (photo: Wikipedia)

Ives grew up in a house that was originally located on Mountainville Avenue in Danbury, the same house where he was born. Over the course of the 19^th century, it was home to several generations of Ives’. Thomas Tucker built the house at the end of the Revolutionary War in 1780. It was purchased by the Ives family in 1828 by Isaac Ives, whose son George became influential to the town’s history. George founded the Danbury and Norwalk Railroad, which is still in use today as the Danbury Branch of the Metro-North Railroad, as well as the Savings Bank of Danbury. The house has been moved several times due to the expansion of Danbury’s main square and its banks. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1976. The Historical Society of Danbury now owns the house and wishes to open it as a museum (as of 2014). Although this home is undoubtedly Ivesian and connected to him in many ways, Charles Ives only resided within it. He had no hand in creating the residence or any of his body of music within it.

Ives' home in West Redding (photo: Steve Miller for the Boston Globe)

Upon graduation from his baccalaureate degree from Yale, Ives moved to Manhattan to pursue a career as an insurance agent. Over time, as it does with many people, the Big Apple tired Ives greatly and he desired an oasis away from the bustling streets. In August of 1912, Charles and his wife Harmony came to West Redding, Connecticut (just fifteen minutes from his hometown of Danbury) and purchased 18 acres of land on which to build a retreat. Ives helped to design the house himself in the Arts and Crafts style of design which was popular in the early 20^th century. Construction was completed in 1913. The property was a farm at heart, complete with a barn which housed Ives’ beloved horse Rocket. The barn, however, did not house many animals other than Rocket; it became home to Ives’ elaborately filed collection of manuscripts of his compositions. Upon the completion of the country home, Charles and Harmony Ives came to spend more and more of their time there as years came to pass.

Ives' music room (photo: Steve Miller for the Boston Globe)

Ives' photo of Brahms (photo: Steve Miller for the Boston Globe)

During the periods when they were not taking residence in the West Redding home, they actually lent it to impoverished families in need of temporary residence. The couple were true lovers of community and children in particular- they took such a liking to one child who stayed at the home when she was ill that they eventually adopted her! Many of Ives’ most well known pieces were composed in his music room at the home including “Three Places in New England,” the “New England Holidays” symphony, the Second Orchestral set, the Fourth Symphony, the Fourth Violin sonata, and many of his vocal/piano songs. In his music room, Charles had many relics from different parts of his life: his father’s bugle, a pennant stolen from his baseball days at Yale, a portrait of Brahms hanging from the back of his James and Holstrom upright piano, and several bottles of whisky. On the back of the door to the room hung a collection of clippings showing the success of Ives compositions he saw during his lifetime.

Charles Ives Tyler in his grandfather's music room (photo: Steve Miller for the Boston Globe)

When Ives died in 1954, he did not think to plan for the passing on of the property he and Harmony so lovingly created in West Redding. After Harmony passed in 1969, it was simply left to his descendants and the home stayed within the family as a summer residence… until 2011. Charles Ives Tyler, grandson of Charles Ives, put the home on the market in the summer of 2011. A resident of Florida, the property had become too much to upkeep from such a distance and, at 67 years old, Tyler felt it had become a burden. The first potential buyer was a commercial company who wished to tear down the residence and build a condo complex on the acreage. Of course word got out to the many Ives fans, American and otherwise, and an international outrage came about. In an editorial by Jan Swafford on the controversy he states that the house is “not only historic but a true creation of the artist who designed and built it.”

The small but passionate Charles Ives Society wished to purchase the property and turn it into an artists’ retreat a la the Aaron Copland house. Robert Eschbach (a former professor of mine at the University of New Hampshire) started an online petition to keep the house within the foundation which gathered over 2000 signatures as well as gaining financial support for the Charles Ives Society’s plea to purchase. They gained a competitive sum and made an offer, which was subsequently refused by Tyler. In the end the home sold for $1.5 million to John Moon, a finance executive at Morgan Stanley. The reason for his decision still remains fairly ambiguous. In discussion with Tyler, Boston Globe correspondent Jeremy Eichler could not uncover the motivation:

“What has baffled so many onlookers, however, is why Tyler, after responsibly tending to his grandfather’s legacy for decades, has rejected a seemingly competitive offer to sell the West Redding home to the Charles Ives Society, which, working with local partners, could have turned it into a public museum or a center for visiting artists in residence. I posed the question in as many different ways as I could think of, but he declined to elaborate.”

Ives' study resurrected in Washington Heights (photo: Martin Solarte for the NY Times)

Ives’ belongings, however, were not neglected. In early 2014, the contents of Ives’ music room were moved to the American Academy of Arts and Letters in Washington Heights, NYC. All three thousand items were assembled in an exact replica of the study, complete with a photo taken from the window so you really feel like you are in the true space. His manuscripts in the barn were previously donated to Yale’s collection, one thing that Ives had indeed stated in his will.

Some of Ives' collection of belongings (photo: stamfordadvocate.com)

The entire situation of the sale and loss of Ives’ home to what, in the end, amounts to big business over the arts is a painful reminder of the priorities of many minds within our nation. A place which should truly be considered a national treasure sold for a paltry sum. LeBron James, NBA all-star, is currently in the news because he had to lower the price of his Miami home from $17 million to $15. Although many people are undoubtedly influenced and inspired by this athlete, he comparatively has done nothing for the history of the nation compared to an artist such as Ives. This, however, is the status quo and the priorities which lie within. Western classical music is a world largely considered to be pale and irrelevant to the goings on of our time. As musicians, we know this to absolutely be untrue, but the general public agrees to disagree. I fear that many members of the population would feel that since Ives’ manuscripts were preserved- the true articles of his creation- there is no need for his residence to be kept the same way. The situation as a whole shows the true need for us as artists to continue to fight for the legacy and relevancy of our craft to modern times. We must remain adamant that these elements of history are indispensable and refuse to align ourselves with the misguided notion that they are trivial.

                                                                                           Susannah Thornton

Aaron Copland (1900-1990) was a well-beloved contemporary American composer as well as a teacher and a writer. He conducted others and his own American music in his later career (From the 1960s onward, turned more from composing to conducting). He composed ballets and orchestral works, chamber music, vocal works, opera and film scores, was often referred to as "the Dean of American Composers" in his later year. He composed his signature works during the Depression years, traveled a lot during that period.

He studied with Isidor Philipp, Paul Vidal and Nadia Boulanger. Boulanger influenced him most. Igor Stravinsky was his “hero”, his favorite 20^th century composer. And of course he has his own unique style - he blend jazz and American folk tunes. “The impression of jazz one receives in a foreign country is totally unlike the impression of such music heard in one's own country ... when I heard jazz played in Vienna, it was like hearing it for the first time.”

In his works, the open, slowly changing harmonies are what people recognized as American music, which means he is a pioneer of American music in some way.

Fanfare for the Common Man, the ballets Billy the Kid, Rodeo, Appalachian Spring are all his most renowned works.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (1830 - 1886) was an American prolific poet, she has been regarded, alongside Emerson. She published nearly 1800 poems. We cannot define her style due to the reason that she wrote a variety of theme. Usually they are something about life, nature, death and immortality.

^{TWELVE POEMS OF EMILY DICKINSON}

Copland’s song cycle, composed for voice and piano.

"I had no intention of composing a song cycle," wrote Copland. This is his first and the longest work for solo voice and piano. They were composed at Sneden’s Landing, New York from 1949 to 1950.

He was first attracted by the poem The Chariot, then started to compose others. Each of the poems has their own theme and even style, but he prefers to let them stay together as a cycle, he thought that would have some miracle effect in some way.

Each poem is dedicated one of his friends: David Diamond, Elliott Carter, Ingolf Dahl, Alexei Haieff, Marcelle de Manziarly, Juan Orrrego-Salas, Irving Fine, Harold Shapero, Camargo Guernieri, Alberto Ginastera, Lukas Foss, and Arthur Berger.

1.      Nature, the gentlest mother  (to David Diamond)

From a soft, slow rhythm spread to faster, joyful rhythm. With an interesting bird-like sound’s introduction.

2.      There came a wind like a bugle  (to Elliott Curter)

Mimic the sound of bugle, fast, with strength.

3.      Why do they shut me out of Heaven?  (to Ingolf Dahl)

Has a “recitative”, soft and expressive melody, the vocal part has a wide range, require singers a better technique.

4.      The world feels dusty  (to Alexei Haieff)

A calm, gentle easy piece.

5.      Heart, we will forget him  (to Marcelle de Munziurly)

A pretty love song, legato, intervals in vocal part like seventh and fifth are hard to get.

6.      Dear March, come in!  (to Juan Orrego Salas)

Interesting talk-like lyric, the tempo and style contrast to the previous piece – fast and excited.

7.      Sleep is supposed to be  (to Irving Fine)

Contrast again. Feature dotted rhythm, slow and peaceful.

8.      When they come back  (to Harold Shapero)

Lively, lovely easy song.

9.      I felt a funeral in my brain  (to Camargo Guarnieri)

Featured grand funeral scene. The piano part is very heavy with many dissonant.

10.  I've heard an organ talk  (to Alberto Ginastera)

Sound very controlled and broad. “talk to himself” quietly.

11.  Going to Heaven!  (to Lukas Foss)

Start with a fast tempo, excited, in a hurry. Don't know the when and don't know where to go to heaven. The piano part jumping, bouncing all the time, but the vocal part keeps sing in legato.

12.  The Chariot  (to Arthur Berger)

The dotted rhythm in The Chariot is derived from the seventh piece. But it’s still legato even with the dotted rhythm. The intervals, leaps, dissonant, express the feeling very precisely. Dotted keeps the melody moving forward, while the whole cycle ends “immortally”.

Bibliography

<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aaron_Copland>

<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Dickinson>

<http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/aaron-copland-capturing-language-emily-dickinson>

“cyclical implications in Aaron Copland’s Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson” <http://www.jstor.org/discover/10.2307/40374204?sid=21105328858511&uid=3739256&uid=4&uid=2&uid=70&uid=2129&uid=3739696>

Jan M. Weaver. Aaron Copland’s Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson: A Study of Rhythm, Meter, and Word Painting with Application Through an original composition.  Dec. 2002

Chenchen Yang

Opera is a living, breathing art form that has slowly begun to die.  This once grand, celebrated art form is now being pushed aside.  With major companies declaring bankruptcy at an alarming rate, it is easy to lose faith.  But, why is this happening? Why are so many people choosing not to attend or support opera? While there are many parts to this answer, I believe that one of the major choke holds on the growth of opera is the lock out of most modern composers.  It is almost comical how predictable most season announcements are, as though we are constantly forced to listen to the same play list on constant repeat. It is almost as if La Bohème and Le Nozze di Figaro will never be taken off the list even though they are over 100 years old and, frankly, outdated.  The stories and the music are charming, beautiful, and tragic, but they have little to no social relevance to us.  No matter how you stage, costume, or reinvent, the story and music is all the same. 

Yes, one can argue that the Met and other opera houses are trying to incorporate more modern, even living, composers’ works into their seasons. There are even smaller opera companies singularly devoted to the performing of contemporary opera. But is it enough? The Met usually schedules one American opera per season, seemingly hidden amongst the Italian and German opera legends. How is American music supposed to grow when it is being stifled by European traditionalism? While I am sure the board of the Met thinks that they are being innovative with their choice of a modern staging of Un Ballo in Maschera, there is nothing new to be seen.  Sure, the characters might be dressed strangely, walk awkwardly, or interact in a vulgar manner, but that does not make an opera relevant.

American opera has not had an easy road.  Since the beginning, there has been some resistance to our music.  While Carlisle Floyd and Douglas Moore were easily digested by a traditionalist ear, composers such as Philip Glass, John Adams, and Meredith Monk had to work to get their rather untraditional works seen.  In fact, Glass’ Einstein on the Beach was not premiered in his home country, but in France.  His most recent opera The Perfect American was also premiered abroad in Madrid. While all of his works have been performed here eventually, it is slightly disconcerting that he had to take his productions outside of America to have them performed.

John Adams has arguably had an easier time getting his operas done in America and has been mostly received very well. However, the Met’s announcement of The Death of Klinghoffer was not welcomed by many opera goers. This opera touches on a subject that was relevant when it was written and has only become more relevant as time marches forward.  Klinghoffer, though not exclusively, touches on the tensions between the Muslim and Jewish people of the Middle East. The subject manner caused many people to be uncomfortable as they claimed the work stereotyped the Muslim and Jewish communities. The opera almost did not make it to the stage because of the public outcry, but was ultimately performed.  This is what opera should do.  Opera should excite the people, push boundaries, and talk about the issues we face in the modern age.  So why aren’t American operas being performed? What about all of the works in progress, the composition students in conservatory, or American opera composers looking to have their works performed? Do they have hope at all in this industry? I say yes, but only if the people in charge of these companies see the value of the modern American perspective.  There is a place for traditional opera, but why shouldn’t we celebrate the musical voice of our country?

Kristin Hagen