Life seems so transitory! It is very attractive to set down some sort of permanent statement about the way we feel, so that when it’s all gone, people will be able to go to our art works to see what it was like to be alive in our time and place: twentieth-century America. — Aaron Copland
Jack here. If you come up to the Library, you can discuss the matter of Aaron Copland and his music with the others around here who are interested in him. Spike is here, as are Reynard and a few other musicians. We got this assignment in large part because our Editor-in-Chief, Cat Eldridge, was babbling rather incoherently ’bout how great these Copland CDs were, but admitted that he needed us to take a look-see at them too as he couldn’t find the proper words. (Reynard chuckled that he sounded like Lather: ‘That he hardly knows which game to play… Which words to say…’.)
We agreed to so long as he provided a case or two of St. Paulie Dark for us to drink, and what Spike says are ‘hot dogs with kraut’. Now that’s here, we’ll get started. Spike, you did get brown mustard, didn’t you?
(If you think it’s funny that none of us are American who are doing this review, keep it to yourself. All music’s global at this point.)
Copland’s America is the America that Emma Bull writes of in her Acceptance Speech as the Summer Queen a few years back: ‘…I bless your long, long days, steamy or dry, sunny or stormy. I wish grace on your baseball games and clear skies on your picnics. May your charcoal light quickly and burn evenly. May you know the sweet odor of grass you’ve cut yourself, and the nose-tickling scent of your neighbor’s citronella candles.’ And Aaron wasn’t writing for elite musical audiences who would sit there quietly, clap politely, and go home to their safe neighbourhoods, he was writing for you and me, for those willing to take risks in what they listened to: ‘When I speak of the gifted listener, I am thinking of the non musician primarily, of the listener who intends to retain his amateur status. It is the thought of just such a listener that excites the composer in me.’
Cat selected this set of Copland CDs in large part because he wanted to hear Lincoln Portrait which is narrated by Henry Fonda. Yes, Henry Fonda. Like all of the music on these seven CDs, this is a masterful recording especially for Americans in this time. Lincoln Portrait captures this greatest of American Presidents in all his glory and in all his anguish. But I’m getting ahead of myself as that selection is on Orchestral & Ballet Works, 1936-1948, and we really should start, as Reynard notes, with what is on Early Orchestral Works, 1922-1935. This set, like the other two sets here, is not the work of just one Symphony — here we have the London Symphony Orchestra and the New York Philharmonic– not that any of us can tell the two orchestras apart!
His first major work was the ballet Grohg which contributed the thematic material to his Dance Symphony, which leads off this set. As one critic of the time noted, the rhythms in the faster sections gave some very well-known European conductors fits. And the reviews in Europe, according to Bela who’s here too, were less than kind, calling it aggressive and not properly composed (!). What was really happening is that Copland, like Bartok, was too brilliant to simply work in the more conservative styles that had held sway for centuries. All of us here in the Pub feel that Copland’s greatest strength was that he was an American unafraid to try new ideas, new ways of composing.
The second thing that impressed all of us was that he composed not only operas, but theatre music. Copland’s Music for The Theatre — Suite in Five Parts for Small Orchestra is his first use (in 1925) of jazz elements to his music. His autobiography says that he was ‘intrigued with jazz rhythms’ and it certainly shows here. Once again, all of us were impressed by how fresh his music sounded compared to most of the European classical music of the same period. (Spike pithily noted that the European stuff is %$#@ boring. Bela suggested that three centuries of tradition had left composers with nothing new to say, or the musical ‘balls’ to even try –or at least I think that’s what he said in Hungarian.) All I know is the jazz influences here are not superficial, but intrinsic to the music. History records that the classical music lovers who attended the premiere of this piece by the Boston Symphony Orchestra were less than enthused about it
(We’re not going to detail these CDs cut by cut. You too will find your favourites here.)
The second set of CDs, Orchestral & Ballet Works, 1936-1948, has many of his better known, and arguably, as Spike notes, less adventuresome compositions. (Do try the hot dogs which it turns out are Polish kielbasa from Milwaukee. Most excellent with the celery seed crusted rolls, and the kraut. America is, after all, a culinary, linguistic, and musical stew pot.) Here we found, to our collective delight, El Salon Mexico, Billy The Kid, John Henry, and the near legendary Fanfare For The Common Man . The latter is perhaps his best known composition. It was certainly his best known concert opener. He composed it in response to an inquiry from Eugene Goosens for a musical tribute honoring those engaged in World War II. Goosens, conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra at that time, originally had in mind a fanfare ‘for Soldiers, or for Airmen, or Sailors’ and planned to open the 1942 season with it — which he did, but Copland wanted a name that reflected broader themes of the American experience. It’s a short, short piece for brass and percussion with a length of barely three minutes, but it was subsequently incorporated into Copland’s Symphony No 3. Weirdly ‘nough, it would later be used as the basis for Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s 1977 rock version which doesn’t ‘tall sound like it!
(Spike made a rude comment ’bout ELP. Much deserved too in our opinion.)
Four groups are responsible for the music on this set of discs (New Philharmonia Orchestra, London Symphony Orchestra, New England Conservatory Chorus, and Columbia Symphony Strings) but like the Early Orchestral Works, 1922-1935 discs, there’s a remarkable consistency across the selections. Unlike English ceilidh bands or American contradance bands where one can see stylistic differences between groups playing the same material, none of us could detect meaningful differences here. Now none of us including Bela are classically trained musicians, so that might maybe why this is so, but I think it has to do with how distinctive sounding Copland’s music is!
Reynard singles out El Salon Mexico and Billy The Kid as ‘must listens’ here. I’d add Rodeo (Four Dance Episodes) as being particularly pleasing too. No matter the specific piece, it’s clearly composed by Copland.
The final set of discs, Orchestral Works, 1948-1971, is a ‘mere’ one hundred and forty minutes of music on two CDs. Oh, but what treasures we found here! New Philharmonia Orchestra, London Symphony Orchestra, and the New York Philharmonic are the players here. Eh, Reynard, what’s that? Oh, he says to mention the comprehensive liner notes which will give you all the details that we’ve skimmed over in this review. Composer Phillip Ramey who was a longtime friend of Copland did these notes, and his expertise is clear. When these CDs were released in LP format, he was working for the New York Philharmonic. (Yes, they’ve been remastered. Quite well too!)
We found this to be the weakest of the three sets. No, there’s nothing less than superb here, but there’s nothing that quite, in our opinions, matches the sheer coolness of Fanfare for The Common Man or Music for the Theatre, let alone the Billy the Kid Suite. Spike suggests that Copland, like most composers, hit somewhat of a rut in his later years, and Reynard ventured the opinion that what Copland did early in his career couldn’t be matched over a lifetime of composing. Or, as I suggested, the choices of material for this set might not have been as good as the other two sets were. Only The Red Pony is outstanding on these discs.
So ’tis our judgment after hours and hours of listening to more Copland continuously than perhaps is a good idea, that Early Orchestral Works, 1922-1935 and Orchestral and Ballet Works, 1936-1948 are essential purchases, but Orchestral Works, 1948-1971 can easily be left alone.
Our greatest joy however was how much we enjoyed all of the CDs in the rather large set. None of us, save Bela, are great classical music fans, and none had heard Copland in any organized fashion. These discs played over the sound system in the Library as we sat around one of the old oak reading tables brought a new and delightful experience to all of us. Now keep in mind that it doesn’t have everything he did as their many chamber works, two choral works, and two operas not here, but there’s ‘nough Copland here to keep you happy for quite sometime to come!
The Copland Collection: Early Orchestral Works, 1922-1935
The Copland Collection: Orchestral & Ballet Works, 1922-1935
The Copland Collection: Orchestral Works, 1948-1972
(Sony, 1991)
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