Ives SYMPHONY NO. 4 by ScoresOnDemand

Charles E. Ives Symphony No. 4

GCharles Ives Society Performance Edition, based on the Critical Edition, 2011, realized and edited by Thomas M. Brodhead

Revised Edition, 2024

Notes on the Revised Edition, 2024; Premiere Credits iv Preface v

Survival Guide vi

Part Pages That May Require Explanation xviii

Alternative Notations in the Parts xxii

“Consult Conductor” Questions in the Parts xxiv

The Program of Movement II: The Celestial Railroad xxv

Bellamann’s Program Note to the 1927 Premiere of the Prelude and Comedy Movements xxvi

Ives’s Conductor’s Note to Movement II xxviii

The Meaning of Ives’s Conductor’s Note Essay xxxiv

OU Coordination with BU in Finale, mm. 65–70 xxxvi

Interpretive and Rehearsal Agogics xxxviii

Where Additional Conductors Might Be Employed xl

Checklist for Orchestra Librarians xli

Instrumentation Requirements for Rehearsals xlii

Instrumentation xliv

Movement I: Prelude 1

Movement II: Comedy 9

Movement III: Fugue 91

Movement IV: Finale 101

Appendix, Movement IV: Finale (enlarged sideways formatting) 130

N OTES ON THE R EVISED E DITION , 2024

There are only two changes to the previous 2020 edition for this revised edition

Movt. 2: Collapse Section, Clarinets, m. 43 to third quarter beat of m. 46: In Ives’s fair copy of the score, the triplet ﬁgures appear in the register here, but marked 8va all the way across, clearly to imitate the “razzing” of the train passengers as they whizz past the pilgrims in the Celestial Railroad story (putting their thumbs on their noses and twiddling their ﬁngers to make fun of the pilgrims, etc.)

But the copyist who made the next iteration of the score missed the 8va instruction, and so when it was premiered in 1927 and then published in 1929, it appeared an octave lower. Ives apparently missed the copyist’s mistake, and we can only conjecture if he noticed in the 1927 performance. It then became the tessitura of the Clarinets in the 1965 edition, where it remained inaudible for decades.

The 2020 edition restored the original octave of the Clarinets, making the “razzing” audible for the ﬁrst time. But this made all the other instruments inaudible, including the trills of the Flutes and the large triplets of the Piccolo, even when the Clarinets played the indicated mp dynamic for the ﬁgure.

This revised edition writes the triplet ﬁ gures in between the tutti chords in the lower octave, but with an optional 8va for each ﬁgure. The interpreter is therefore encouraged to try it both ways—loco and 8va—and choose whichever version makes better musical sense.

Movt. 4, mm. 30-31, Piccolo, Flutes, Clarinets: Ives sketched out the starting notes of these instruments, which double the Solo Piano, but did not complete the passage. The new edition completed the passage, but with a problem Ives likely did not anticipate: The 1st Flute overwhelms the upper notes, obscuring the “Nearer My God to Thee” quote in the Piccolo, and all the winds here drown out the Solo Piano as well.

This revised edition marks the Piccolo, Flutes, and Clarinets as optional for this passage, with two solutions suggested here: (1) Have the 1st Flute play its measures an octave lower than written (so there’s no competition with the Piccolo), or (2) eliminate the Flutes, and Clarinets entirely in those measures, but possibly retain the Piccolo (as it duplicates the quotation in the Solo Piano but without danger of drowning it out).

The world premiere of this new, authoritative performance score of the Ives Symphony No. 4 was given at the Lucerne Festival on 26 August 2012 by the Lucerne Festival Academy Orchestra under the direction of Péter Eötvös with the assistance of his Master Class conductors

Pierre Dumoussaud, who directed the oﬀ stage Distant Choir ensemble in the Prelude and Finale, Chin-Chao Lin, who assisted on stage for the Comedy, Andrés Salado, who directed the oﬀstage BU percussion in the Finale, and Mariano Chiacchiarini, who assisted on stage during the Finale

PREFACE

This new performance score seeks to address every quantifiable performance problem confronting conductors and performers of the Ives Fourth Symphony. Here, for the first time, difficulties that have bedeviled interpreters of the score in the past are addressed, and the new issues unearthed in the recently published Critical Edition score are harnessed and accounted for.

The previous performance score was provisional from its inception: Its editors—Theodore Seder, Romulus Franceschini, and Nicholas Falcone—worked against a daunting deadline to provide performance materials to enable the American Symphony Orchestra and Leopold Stokowski to give the work its long-delayed world premiere on 26 April 1965. The resulting score was a patchwork of hand copying and Cowell-era plate engraving (for bits of the 2nd movement), and the parts—in use up to now—contained no cues for the players. Seder, Franceschini, and Falcone must still be given credit for an admirable job of decoding the manuscript sources at a time when so much in them was poorly understood.

The prime directive guiding this new Performance Edition—based on the scholarly Critical Edition—has been to realize Ives’s intentions without compromise. Whenever possible, the graphics of the score illustrate the composer’s intentions (e.g., the horizontal spacing of nonsynchronous events visually suggests the eﬀect that is to be achieved). The parts likewise clarify all polytemporal events through the use of coordination cues and alternative notations that preserve Ives’s rhythms. Most importantly, this edition does not force the work into the Procrustean bed of one particular viewpoint on how it should be conducted and performed. Rather, through the clariﬁcation of Ives’s intentions and through the transparent presentation of Ives’s performance options for conductors and players, this edition will allow conductors to make informed individual interpretations that may be executed in any number of ways.

This edition begins with thirteen written and illustrated documents that clarify Ives’s intentions:

* Survival Guide: A comprehensive listing of all issues that must be apprehended by the conductor before the ﬁrst rehearsal.

* Part Pages That May Require Explanation: A descriptive and illustrated catalogue of part pages that may elicit questions from the players. This listing allows the conductor to see the parts without leaving the podium in order to answer any questions the players may have.

* Alternative Notations in the Parts: A compendium of the alternative notations of diﬃcult rhythms in the music. In some cases, the alternative rhythms may be suﬃcient for the players, but in other cases, Ives’s original rhythms are actually easier to follow. Since the alternative notations are referenced but

not reproduced in the full score, seeing the alternative notations is essential for the conductor to decide how to rehearse and conduct the passages in question (either in isolation or with an assistant conductor).

* “Consult Conductor” Questions in the Parts: A listing of every orchestration option that Ives leaves to the conductor and that appears in the parts, each marked “Consult Conductor.” It serves as a checklist for the conductor to give to the orchestra librarian so the parts may be marked appropriately.

* The Program of Movement II: The Celestial Railroad: This outlines the lively program behind the Comedy movement, which is a tone poem of Straussian dimensions. Players who learn the extra-musical meaning of the movement will undoubtedly respond even more enthusiastically to the music.

* Bellamann’s Program Note to the 1927 Premiere of the Prelude and Comedy Movements: This essay was most likely ghost-written by Ives himself, and it oﬀers valuable insights into the score.

* Ives’s Conductor’s Note to Movement II: This note by Ives glosses all of the asterisks in the second movement, something the original publication regrettably failed to do.

* The Meaning of Ives’s Conductor’s Note Essay: This clariﬁcation of the essay concluding Ives’s Conductor’s Note reveals the function of the “prominence indicators” in the Comedy movement.

* OU Coordination with BU in Finale, mm. 65–70

* Interpretive and Rehearsal Agogics

* Where Assistant Conductors Might Be Employed

* Checklist for Orchestra Librarians: A listing of the more important organizational details required for rehearsal and performance preparation.

* Instrumentation Requirements for Rehearsals

The present work would not have been possible without the help of James B. Sinclair for his proofreading and extensive knowledge of Ives, and for Gunther Schuller, who acted as editorial consultant. Valuable insights from Stephen Hartke also inform the edition, and expressions of riconoscenza go to Allen Edwards, whose careful proofreading of the fourth movement cleared the way for its apotheosis, as Ives intended all along.

But I owe my greatest thanks to the many orchestras who allowed me to attend rehearsals of this edition to collect real-world feedback from the performing musicians and thereafter fine-tune it. Because of you and your assistance, it is truly seaworthy. To you I dedicate this edition.

Thomas M. Brodhead 2011–2017

S URVIVAL G UIDE

Everything you always wanted to know about preparing the Ives Fourth Symphony but were afraid to ask!

Number of Conductors

Ives conceived the Fourth Symphony as a work requiring assistant conductors (see the entries concerning mm. 43–51 and mm. 141–145 in his Conductor’s Note to the second movement). With suﬃcient rehearsals and a clever conducting strategy, a single conductor might coordinate the forces in these and similar passages, but it would be diﬃcult. Part of the drama of a live performance of this work is the use of additional conductors, so the interpreter is encouraged to embrace this aspect of the score.

Where an additional conductor is needed is something each principal conductor will need to decide on a caseby-case basis. (See The “Collapse Section” and Other NonSynchronized Temporal Effects below for a complete listing of all sections in the score that would benefit from the use of an assistant conductor. Notice that not all of the nonsynchronized events require a separate conductor, but many would be difficult to execute without one.)

The present Performance Score is designed to facilitate the execution of this work regardless of the number of conductors employed, whether by a single conductor or by multiple conductors.

Chorus in Movement I

Ives applies the instruction “preferably without chorus” at the entrance of the choir in m. 17. Here he likely expected the audience of his day to recognize the hymn tune in the Trumpet, and thus felt ambivalent about the necessity of employing a chorus in this movement. Modern audiences, on the other hand, will appreciate hearing the hymn sung by a chorus. Even more, the appearance of the chorus at the end of the fourth movement begs for a matching choral bookend at the front end of the symphony.

IPA Transliteration (General American) of the Watchman Lyrics

To assist choruses for whom American English pronunciation is diﬃcult, the lyrics of the Watchman hymn are provided with an International Phonetic Alphabet transliteration (using “General American” accents) on the front cover of each choral part. Here it is reproduced for study by the conductor:

Watchman, tell us of the night, wɑtʃm n, teləsəvðənait, What its signs of promise are. wɑtitssainzəvprɑməsɑr.

Trav’ler o’er yon mountain’s height, tr vlər,ɔrjɑnm υntənzhait,

See that glory-beaming star! si ð t lɔri -bi miŋstɑr!

Watchman, aught of joy or hope? wɑtʃm n, ɔtəvd ɔiɔrhoυp?

Trav’ler, yes; it brings the day, tr vlər, jes; itbriŋzðədei, Promised day of Israel. prɑməstdeiəvizraiεl.*

Dost thou see its beauteous ray? dəstð υsi itsbju ti əsrei?

* Notice that the American choral pronunciation of Israel is adopted here.

Distant Choir (D.C.)

The first and fourth movements employ a Distant Choir (D.C.) of five Violins and one Harp. The D.C. represents the “Heavenly Host” of the “Watchman” hymn in the fi rst movement, and is best spatially separated from the main orchestra, preferably above the orchestra, perhaps in a balcony or in a choir alcove.

In the ﬁrst movement, the D.C. is alternately synchronized and unsynchronized with the main orchestra, which may or may not require an assistant conductor. In the fourth movement, the D.C. is synchronized with the main orchestra throughout. Bracketed letters [a] through [m] are employed for the dyssynchronized measures of the D.C. in Movement 1 (measures 5-27 of Main Orchestra) to facilitate rehearsals.

Because of their spatial separation, the ﬁve Violin players will not be able to rejoin the main orchestra’s Violin sections during the second and third movements of the symphony. If only a conservative number of strings is available, it is suggested that three players from the Violin I section and two players from the Violin II section be assigned to the D.C. (See String Division as well as Violin Distribution in Movement 4, below.)

Harp Part in the D.C.

Properly respelled, the Harp part is possible for performance by a single harpist. The present part has been respelled and pedaled clearly, and it was checked and approved for performability by Anthony Maydwell, former principal Harpist of the Sydney Symphony.

String Division

This performance edition is mindful of the standard allotment of 8-7-6-5-4 desks in an orchestra’s total string section. Because ﬁve Violins must be dedicated to the Distant Choir in the ﬁrst and fourth movements, a desk distribution of 6-6-6-5-4 has been devised (with two players per desk; any additional players should be assigned to the additional optional desks described below).

To assist the string players’ reading of Ives’s complex string divisi, the string music has been parsed into individual parts for each desk. Thus, desk 1 will read from a separate physical part than desk 2, than desk 3, etc., with six parts total for Violin I, called Desks 1–6. Likewise, there are ﬁve separate parts for the Cellos, called Desks 1–5, etc. Some orchestras may have larger string complements than the assumed typical maximum number of string players. To account for this, the parts set includes optional string desks. These include: Violin I, Desks 7, 8, and 9; Violin II, Desks 7 and 8; Viola, Desk 7; Violoncello, Desk 6; and Contrabass, Desk 5. Care has been taken in constructing these additional desk parts to ensure that the resulting string choirs are not unbalanced in the division of materials (e.g., if Desks 7 and 8 are employed in the Violin I section, the material assigned to those desks will not unbalance the distribution of Ives’s polyphonic string writing already divided among the top six Desks).

It might occur in a university or conservatory orchestra that there are additional players beyond the maximum number of optional desks. In that case, the additional players should play from duplicates of the last numbered optional desk part (e.g., if there are twenty Violin I players, let the last physical desk—i.e. physical desk 10—play from a duplicate of the optional Violin I Desk 9 part).

If there are fewer players than the number required to ﬁll out the minimum desk pairs (i.e. 6-6-6-5-4) in any of the sections, individual players may sit one to a desk for the lower desk parts, with two important exceptions: There must be two players playing from the Violin II Desk 6 part, and there must be two players playing from the Viola Desk 6 part. This is because those parts contain the Extra Violin and Extra Viola parts, covered below

Violin Distribution in Movement IV

In the fourth movement, Ives divides the Violins alternately into two and three large divisions, labeled Violins I, II and Violins I, II, III respectively. To facilitate the division of the Violins in and out of these large-scale divisions, the following desk assignments are employed:

When the Violins are divided into two large divisions (I, II), the standard desk division is employed: all 6 desks of the First Violins cover the Violin I parts, and all 6 desks of the Second Violins cover the Violin II parts.

When the Violins are divided into three large divisions (I, II, III), Violin I is assigned to the First Violin parts, Desks 1–4; Violin II is assigned to the Second Violin parts, Desks 1–4; and Violin III is assigned to both the First and Second Violin parts, Desks 5–6 in each case:

When three Violin divisions are in force, the full score clearly indicates in the margin how desks are assigned among the three divisions.

Additionally, the parts that play Violin III are marked as such with boxes, as shown in this Violin II Desk 5 part:

The Violin I and Violin II parts are not marked specially at these points, because they are already Violin I and II (Q.E.D.) On the other hand, the Desks that play Violin III have those sections boxed and labeled specially, as shown above. This will allow the conductor to call out Violins by their section designations in the I, II, III passages.

Note that when the additional, optional Desk parts are in use, none of them includes the Violin III music. The Violin III music and designations exist exclusively in the 5th and 6th Desk parts.

The Extra Violin II and Extra Viola Parts

Throughout the second half of the Comedy movement, Ives intermittently writes for an Extra Violin II (2 players) and an Extra Viola (1 player). In his Conductor’s Note entry on m. 142, Ives indicates that these players would be better “in back of the section or off-stage.” In keeping with this, the Extra Violin II has been assigned to the Violin II Desk 6 part and the Extra Viola has been assigned to the Viola Desk 6 part. These “Extra” parts may, in fact, be played by the players sitting at these desks on stage, but they could equally well (and to perhaps better effect) be played by distinct, spatially-separated players offstage. For

that purpose, there are a set of dedicated oﬀstage parts for the oﬀstage (i.e. spatially-separated) players.

It would be possible for three of the Violinists of the Distant Choir to play those parts (one picking up a Viola for the job). If so, it would be advisable for those players to move to a position that would be distinct from the location of the Distant Choir. This would be essential so that they would not confuse the D.C.’s role as the “Heavenly Host” of the Prelude and Finale with the more mercurial roles of the “Extra” players in the Comedy movement. (The Extra Violin II in particular would seem to represent the machinations of Mr. Smooth-it-away in the Celestial Railroad program; the noodling musical ﬁgure always played by the Extra Violin II is apparently a variant of the syrupy Mr. Smooth-it-away theme played by the Violins in m. 146. Likewise, the Extra Viola would seem to represent one of the pilgrims from the Hawthorne story.)

Important for execution of the “Extra” music is the set of four bells that reinforce the structural tones of the Extra Violin II part during the “Vanity Fair” section (mm. 149–161). The four bells must be located near Extra Violin II for coordination purposes. If the part is played o ﬀstage (i.e. spatially-separated), it would not be necessary to have an additional percussionist present: the second of the two Extra Violin II players could easily play the Bells part during this passage, since only one of the two violin players is required to play the “Extra” music during this section.

The Violin II Desk 6 and Viola Desk 6 parts are clearly marked to indicate when the “Extra” music is being played, and if oﬀstage players are employed (who would be reading from the dedicated oﬀstage “Extra” parts), the onstage players will then know when not to play.

The Extra Violin II music is found in mm. 142–161, 168–180, 194–199, 207–210, 216–224, and 237–264. The Extra Viola music is found in mm. 149–161.

High Bells / Low Bells

Ives speciﬁes that the Bells are to be of “a continuous scale and of like quality.” Written at pitch, the complete range of the Bells is problematic, for it traverses six octaves.

Neither Glockenspiel nor Chimes is appropriate. Glockenspiel sounds 15ma and therefore cannot reach the lower two octaves of the High Bells part; similarly, Chimes begin at middle “C” and cannot reach the lower two octaves of the Low Bells part. Also, these instruments do not share the same timbre, a requirement of the total part.

A solution has been provided with the rental materials: a six-octave bell realization for electronic keyboard. It fulﬁlls Ives’s timbral and range requirements perfectly, and it carries the added advantage that the dynamic range can be modiﬁed easily. The part requires a single skilled keyboardist, but an assistant player with only minimal keyboard skills is needed in Movement IV, mm. 65–71. This might be covered by a percussionist who is tacet there to the end (e.g., the Triangle player).

On the other hand, in Movement II, for the duet between the Extra Violin II and the Low Bells in the “Vanity

Fair” section (mm. 149–161), a set of 4 suspended handbells would be ideal: they may be placed near the Violin player—therefore allowing coordination between the two instruments—and their sonic projection is not a problem in the thin texture of that section.

Nb: Attention is required to ensure that important melodies in the High Bell sound through the texture (e.g., Comedy mm. 112–114, 115–122, 123–135, 173–177; Finale mm. 40–49, 65–71). At pitch, they may not project. Therefore, these may need to be played on Glockenspiel (in spite of timbral dissimilarity) with the resulting pitches sounding 8va or 15ma so that they may be audible (cf. Celesta Tessitura, below).

Gongs

The distinction between the gong, which has a definite tuning and produces great reverberation, and the tam-tam, whose tuning is indefinite and produces an even sound, is recent in Western Composition. It is essential to understand that throughout the nineteenth century and into the first half of the twentieth, the terms “gong” and “tam-tam” were used interchangeably, however always in reference to the tam-tam. In Ives’s day, two forms of this instrument were regularly imported to the West from China: the large ceremonial tam-tam that figures in orchestral and operatic works going back to the time of Berlioz, and the smaller, more ornamental dinner gong that was a common feature in many Victorian households. These would likely be the Heavy Gong and Light Gong, respectively, that Ives scores in the Comedy movement. Correspondingly, the large tamtam would be the Gong in the BU of the Finale (although a medium tam-tam would work better in that movement; its forte (f) strokes in the crescendo-decrescendo cycles would be less likely to overwhelm the occasionally delicate music of the OU—see Dynamic Swell in the BU, below). Note, however, that under no circumstance should the reverberant, Indonesian-style gong (the “nipple gong”) be used for any of these parts, as that instrument was unknown to American orchestras at the time Ives composed the Fourth Symphony.

Indian Drum

Ives writes for a Native American (not Asian) “Indian Drum” in the percussion of the Comedy and in the BU group of the Finale. Past performances of the Fourth Symphony have employed a wide range of vastly di ﬀerent instruments for this part, so it is perhaps wise to consider a precise deﬁnition for this instrument. According to Andrew Stiller in his Handbook of Instrumentation :

“The Indian Drum is a double-headed drum without raised rims. More important, the heads are quite loose and are attached to the shell by tacks or lashings, making the drum diﬃcult, if not impossible to tune. The drum is usually small and less deep than wide; despite that it is typically as low in pitch as the tenor drum—or lower—because of the looseness of the head. The sound of the drum is dark and ‘tubby’ with a rapid decay…” (pp. 157–158)

A small to medium Pow Wow Drum would therefore be a reasonable instrument to employ for this part.

Celesta Tessitura

In the Fourth Symphony manuscripts, Ives indicates in places that the Celesta part should sound at the written pitch. This perhaps stems from his concern about sonic projection and his fears about instruments drowning out one another (see the separate section Dynamics, below).

In the Celesta part, the music is presented as Ives wrote it, with resulting pitches sounding an octave higher than written. If the Celesta is to sound at the written pitch, as Ives suggests in some places in the MS, then the whole part would need to be played an octave lower than written. The problem there is that when sounding at written pitch, the Celesta will become completely inaudible in Ives’s thick orchestral textures. It is therefore unadvisable for the Celesta part to be played an octave lower. Playing the part as written, sounding an octave higher than notated, allows the part to project and to be audible.

Quarter-tone Piano

The Quarter-tone Piano mixes quarter-tones and regular tones. Thus, it cannot be played by a piano that is simply tuned up by a quarter-tone. So that the Quarter-tone Piano part may be played by a single player, the present performance edition supplies a scordatura part and tuning chart, in which the notes required by the Quarter-tone Piano are mapped to unique keys on a standard keyboard. The part is in turn renotated to match those key mappings. Either a standard acoustic piano adjusted to the scordatura tuning or an electronic keyboard will work. (The set of parts includes a patch of the scordatura tuning that may be used with electronic instruments; please consult the publisher for more information.)

A separate but equally important question is who should play the Quarter-tone Piano part. If a dedicated player is not available, the Secondo Orchestra pianist may easily take this part in the opening measures of the Comedy movement (mm. 8 & 15) and throughout the Finale (mm. 32, 34, 72–84). But problematic is the exposed passage in the Comedy movement, measures 217–224. Because both Orchestra Pianists play in the measures directly before and after this passage, it is impossible for either of them to play this passage without dropping the surrounding material (i.e. m. 216 on one side, and potentially several measures beginning with m. 225 on the other).

The music bookending mm. 217–224 is loud, cacophonic, and for full orchestra, so it may be acceptable to allow one of the Orchestra Piano players to drop the surrounding measures in order to move to and from the Quarter-tone keyboard. (This would be cheating, in a sense, but it is doubtful that the absence of that player’s music would be detectable in the thick texture of those passages.)

However, there is a better solution that allows all the music of the Orchestra Piano part to be retained: The Or-

ganist may move to the Scordatura Keyboard and play mm. 217–224 (as well as the measures at the beginning of the Comedy, for that matter). This is possible within the music of the Symphony because the Organ does not play until a good two minutes into the following movement (Fugue, m. 45). This provides ample time for the Organ player to return to the Organ for its ﬁrst entrance. However, this is only possible if there is a clear and easy physical path between the Scordatura keyboard and the Organ, and thus it depends in part on the layout of the hall (as well as on the mobility of the Organist).

Following this solution, therefore, the Organist would play the Quarter-tone Piano during the Comedy and the Secondo Orchestra Pianist would play it in the Finale

Ether Organ

In the late 1920s, Ives took interest in the original electronic instruments by Leon Theremin. Apparently inspired by their sonic possibilities, Ives annotated the MS scores to Three Places in New England, Orchestral Set No. 2, and the Fourth Symphony with optional doublings of various instruments by “Mr. Theremin’s Ether Organ.” It had long been assumed that this name was Ives’s colorful term for the space-controlled Theremin, the most popular and successful instrument invented by Leon Theremin. Recent research has revealed that the “Ether Organ” was actually the Keyboard Harmonium: a large, somewhat unwieldy keyboard instrument, each of whose keys operated a separate Theremin. Ives perhaps saw in the keyboard control of this instrument the possibility of precise pitch control as well, and perhaps then chose to reference it—not the conventional space-controlled Theremin—when annotating his manuscripts.

In the Fourth Symphony, Ives suggests that the Ether Organ reinforce the Cornet part in the second movement (mm. 200–20, 213–216) and that it reinforce various instruments throughout the fourth movement (mm. 7–10, 27–28, 32–34, 65–76). These appear in the full score and in a dedicated Ether Organ part.

But what instrument should play this part? Notice in the Finale the rapid, cross-octave triplet in measure 8 and the quarter tones in measures 32 and 34. These are passages that could be executed easily and accurately on an Ondes Martenot, but would be diﬃcult or impossible to execute with good intonation on a space-controlled Theremin. The Ondes Martenot is an ideal instrument for the Ether Organ part: It is keyboard operated, thus allowing for precise intonation (something often quite problematic for the standard space-controlled Theremin), and it can produce quarter tones through use of its slider and ribbon.

Optional Harp in Comedy

In mm. 218, 220, and 222 of the Comedy, Ives speciﬁes that a Harp may replace the Primo Orchestra Piano in those measures, should it be replacing the Quarter-tone Piano in mm. 217–224. It is extraordinarily doubtful that a performance of the Fourth Symphony would be

mounted without including a Quarter-tone keyboard, so it is unlikely the ossia would be played at all here, and thus no provision for a Harp in the Comedy has been made in the Harp part (which, of course, is speci ﬁc to the spatiallyseparated D.C. in the Prelude and Finale; Ives’s ossia would seem to require a diﬀerent, onstage Harp).

Quarter-tone and Optional Notes in D.C. Harp

There is a single quarter-tone chord in the Harp in m. 49 of the Finale. This could only be played by a second, assistant harpist with a specially-tuned harp in the D.C. group, a luxury no performance should go to any length to accommodate. However, a second player could, in fact, play the optional da'+aa' dyads in mm. 45–57, which would provide additional music for the player to perform. On the oﬀ chance that a second harp is available, the tuning requirements for the quarter-tone chord are provided in the Harp part along with text identifying the location of the optional, regular-tone dyads.

Placement of the Pianos

As in a piano concerto, the Solo Piano should be at the front of the orchestra, either directly behind or in front of the conductor. The Orchestra Piano should be separated from the Solo Piano by a signiﬁcant distance on the stage. (See the entry on mm. 3–5 in Ives’s Conductor’s Note.) To aid in sonic projection, the lid of the Solo Piano should either be removed entirely or propped open (depending on its location behind or in front of the conductor). The lid of the Orchestra Piano should be removed entirely, or else its sound will be lost within the orchestra.

Quarter-tone Notation

For the 1929 edition of the second movement, Ives used square-shaped notes to indicate quarter-tones. Modern notational practice for quarter-tones is not uniform, but it typically employs accidentals with arrows. However, arrowed accidentals prove diﬃcult to recognize in passages where quarter-tones and regular tones alternate in quick succession (e.g., the “Beulah Land” section in movement II, mm. 217–224). For complete clarity, the Performance Score and the parts employ a square-shaped notehead and an arrowed accidental for each quarter-tone note.

Alternative Notations

In movements I, II, and IV, some parts in the full score are footnoted to indicate that they have two diﬀerent notations in the corresponding parts: the original notation, as presented in the full score, and an analytical renotation that may help the player parse the rhythm correctly. See the separate section Alternative Notations in the Parts in the main body of the front matter to this edition, found on pp. xxii-xxiii, for complete notational reproductions of these passages. The conductor may or may not wish to rely on them for performance purposes, depending on the diﬃculty of the rhythmic translation, and instead employ an assistant conductor or another conducting tactic.

Dynamics

Ives’s dynamics should not be taken too literally. In the Distant Choir especially, it is often unclear whether the stated dynamic is the perceived volume of the part, given its spatial separation from the main orchestra, or the dynamic the instrument must play unto itself.

Complicating matters is the use of the lettered “Prominence Indicators” employed in the second movement (see Prominence (Proximity) Indicators, below). In all cases, Ives intended the Prominence Indicators to signify the spatial separation of instruments from the audience. At times, this is to improve the projection of individual dynamics; at other times, it is intended to create the eﬀect of the stated volume at the implied distance (e.g., the eﬀect of loud music at a great distance). The distinction is not always clear, and thus it should be a matter of interpretation by the conductor.

Perhaps because of his experience with smaller ensembles (e.g., theatre orchestras), Ives was often overly concerned with the sonic projection of certain instruments. For example, Ives is repeatedly concerned that the Flute not drown out the strings(!) The conductor should be wary that Ives’s understanding of the projection of instruments in a symphony orchestra may have been imperfect, and thus his dynamics and verbal instructions may require tempering on a case-by-case basis.

Prominence (Proximity) Indicators

Encircled letters in the second movement indicate the distance from the audience where the aﬀected parts should sound. Ives added these to the score after he heard the ﬁ rst and second movements on a concert on January 29, 1927, performed by a scaled-down orchestra of just 50 players.

Ives was fascinated by the way that an instrument sounds differently when it is played at different volumes at different distances. The application of the physical “Prominence Indicators” in the second movement is his most explicit and complex experiment in that regard. There are seven distances, signified by the letters A through G.

A complete realization of this aspect of the score would require enormous forces (several hundred players, in fact: because the physical distance for a given part changes every few measures, a duplicate player would be required at each prescribed distance). The take-away: For a standard performance, these indications should be ignored, except perhaps for understanding Ives’s desired quality of the perceived sound at a given moment. (Please understand that, for Ives, f at distance is not the same as pp at distance . See The Meaning of Ives’s Conductor’s Note Essay, xxxiv–xxxv.)

The “Collapse Section” and Other Non-synchronized Temporal Eﬀects

Several passages in the symphony divide the orchestra into diﬀerent groups that either (1) play at a tempo that is a ﬁxed ratio of the main orchestra’s tempo or (2) play at an independent, unrelated tempo. In order of presentation in the score:

1) The Distant Choir in Movement I, mm. 5–26

In this passage, the D.C. continues the tempo it established in m. 4, repeating the material if it reaches m. 26 before the Main Orchestra does. Judicious cueing or an assistant conductor will facilitate this passage.

2) The First Page of Movement II

There are three events to consider here:

(A) The Bassoons play two measures of &4against the five measures of ^8in the main orchestra. The Bassoon players should be able to execute this alone—with the first Bassoon acting as the leader of the duet—once a good tempo can be established that allows them to finish the passage with the rest of the orchestra.

(B) Starting at m. 3, the Solo Piano must subdivide 5 unique measures against 3 measures in the main orchestra, accelerating and decelerating as it plays.

(C) The Basses are not synchronized with the Main Orchestra, and their material “controls the page” (as Ives writes in the Conductor’s Note), with one player acting as leader. The graphical alignment of the Basses in the full score is misleading, because after the Main Orchestra reaches the fermata at the end of m. 5, the Basses should still be sounding their music. For this reason, it is essential for the Basses to play at a slower rate than the Main Orchestra (perhaps t=65–70) so that they do not ﬁnish ﬁrst.

A slow, tremoloed, whole-tone glissando in the Basses then leads the Orchestra to the downbeat of the next page.

The music of the Basses parses into 3, and the notation here employs dotted barlines to help coordinate the players. The Bass music is cued in the Cello part, following Ives’s suggestion in his Conductor’s Note. If Cellos are used, the Assistant Conductor should be employed to set the tempo and coordinate the two sections.

3) Movement II, mm. 37–38

Clarinets, Trumpet 1, Trombones, Secondo Orchestra Piano, Indian Drum, and Solo Piano perform through the ﬁrst quarter note ( t ) of m. 38 in the same tempo as the previous measure, resynchronizing with the main orchestra immediately thereafter.

4) The “Collapse Section”: Movement II, mm. 43–51

In this section, the orchestra divides into an Upper Orchestra Allegro in $4(comprising winds, brass, pianos, and timpani) and a Lower Orchestra Adagio in #2(comprising the remaining percussion and strings). Initially the Allegro $4measure = the Adagio #2 measure, with $4t=66.66 and the #2y=50. (Notice: triplets within the t=66.66 tempo articulate a 3+3+2 rhythm in which the triplet t=100, wherein the Allegro truly resides.) Two measures later, at m. 45, the Allegro begins to accelerate to t=126, all the while the Adagio of the Lower Orchestra holds its tempo. Eventually the Upper Orchestra “collapses” its m. 51 some time before the Lower Orchestra plays its m. 51. The two groups resynchronize without pause in m. 52. The en-

graving of the score graphically illustrates the initial synchrony and eventual dyssychrony of the two groups.

A second conductor will facilitate execution of this section, although a well-rehearsed Lower Orchestra may be able to sustain its own tempo so that a single conductor might lead the Upper Orchestra during this passage. However, a single conductor would then be challenged to locate his place in the Lower Orchestra’s material to resume conducting. (This is an example of a passage where a second conductor might be necessary, and the visual drama of two conductors may create a more exciting performance than a tour-de-force by a single conductor.)

There is one additional complication to this passage: When the Upper Orchestra “collapses” in m. 51, the Basses in the Lower Orchestra must jump ahead to their own m. 51. They must then sustain the tremoloed chord in m. 51 until the rest of the Lower Orchestra catches up with them, at which point they synchronize with the Lower Orchestra. Therefore, the conductor of the Upper Orchestra must cue the Basses when the Upper Orchestra reaches m. 51, and the conductor of the Lower Orchestra must cue them again when the Lower Orchestra reaches m. 52 so that the Basses may then resynchronize.

5) Battle of the Triplet Groups: Movement II, mm. 55–58

A single conductor may be sufficient for this passage, but care should be taken to clarify the music to the groups so that they understand the material they are executing. The Performance Score divides the instruments into a Main Orchestra and three groups: Group 1 performs a triplet pattern on the main beat; Group 2 performs the same triplet pattern offset by an eighth rest (R); Group 3 performs the same pattern offset by a sixteenth rest (E). It will perhaps be easiest to rehearse each group separately, having each play its part as though it were on the beat, then perform the part offset by the proper amount. (A strong, metronomic beat from a drum may facilitate separate rehearsals of the individual Groups.) Each part indicates to which “Group” its instrument belongs, so instruments may be referenced by Group number during rehearsals.

6) Movement II, mm. 115–122

The orchestra here is temporally synchronized, but two distinct subunits are articulated: The main group plays a treatment of In the Sweet Bye and Bye in a repeating period of 11 eighth beats (r). For convenience in coordinating with the other players, however, this is notated in %8. Simultaneously, a group of approximately 20 players play contrasting material that divides into two large beats for every %8measure of the other group. Two conductors will be eﬀective for this section. A single conductor may negotiate this by rehearsing the two groups separately, then employing a common beat pattern (perhaps 2) for the full orchestra. Each part indicates to which beat-pattern group an instrument belongs, “in 2” or “in 5.”

7) Slowing of the Train Wheels: Movement II, mm. 141–145

Ives depicts the train coming to rest at Vanity Fair by a technique opposite of what might be expected: Saxophone, Bassoon, and Percussion maintain the tempo of m. 141 and dissipate within that tempo (i.e. dropping notes until nothing is left) while the main orchestra decelerates independently. While the Percussion may be able to coordinate as a group here, it will be diﬃcult for the Saxophone, Bassoon, and Extra Violin II (discussed separately below) to coordinate with the Percussion without help from a second conductor.

8) Extra Violin II: Movement II, mm. 142–161

The Extra Violin II (2 players) joins the “Strict Tempo” group of Saxophone, Bassoon, and Percussion at m. 142 (i.e. one measure after the others) and continues that tempo into the “Vanity Fair” section (1 player only, mm. 146–161). Through m. 145 it is synchronized with the “Strict Tempo” group, and thus may follow a second conductor leading that group, but, starting with m. 146 (i.e. its own m. 146), it continues playing at the same strict tempo, independently of the main orchestra.

9) Poco Tenuto Fermata in the Comedy, m. 148

The poco tenuto fermata in the Comedy at m. 148 is a caesura for all instruments except the Extra Violin II; in that way, the rotating figure of the Violin is fully exposed for a few seconds (from its position on or offstage; see the main entry entitled The Extra Violin II and Extra Viola Parts above for more information). A pause of about 3 seconds should be sufficient to execute the effect.

10) Extra Violin II and Low Bells: Movement II, mm. 149–161

Just after the initial ﬂourish in the Solo Piano part at m. 149, the Low Bells must enter and coordinate with the Extra Violin II. (A cue from the conductor will be needed.) The Low Bells simply articulate the low structural tones of the Extra Violin II part in its pattern of 5 sixteenth notes. It is essential here that a special set of Low Bells (only the 4 pitches needed) be placed near the Extra Violin II player so that the two players may coordinate the combined part.

A set of four hung handbells struck lightly with a mallet should suﬃce for this part. If the Extra Violin II part is being played onstage, there is time for the Bells player to walk to this set before this passage and then back to the main set afterwards. If the Extra Violin II part is being played by oﬀstage players, the Extra Violin II player who is not playing during this passage may play the Bells, thus eliminating the need for a percussionist to travel to their location. (See the earlier entries High Bells/Low Bells and The Extra Violin II and Extra Viola Parts.)

11) #2vs. $4: Movement II, mm. 200–207 & mm. 211–216

In these sections, half the players play in 3 while the other half play in 4. While two conductors would be eﬀective

here (as well as dramatic), independent rehearsal of each group might allow execution by a single conductor, although no common beat pattern could support the rhythmic intricacies of many of the parts (e.g., the nested triplets of the #2Viola writing in mm. 200–207 cannot be resolved to $4).

12) Extra Violin II: Movement II, mm. 217–224

The Extra Violin II here plays approximately 5 of its quarters ( t ) to the ^8 bar, but not exactly, and so it performs independently of the main orchestra. It should repeat its pattern through the end of m. 224.

13) Primo Orchestra Piano: Movement II, mm. 250–254

The Primo player repeats its ﬁgure of m. 250 faster and faster until it is twice its or iginal speed by m. 253; it is rather essential that the player be cued at m. 254 so that it may synchronize with the main orchestra.

14) The BU Percussion in Movement IV

The relationship between the BU and OU in movement IV is discussed below in the main section entry, BU vs. OU: Tempos in Movement IV

15) Orchestra Piano in Movement IV, mm. 29–31

Here the Orchestra Piano plays a subdivided pattern of 8 eighth notes (r) against every dotted half (y.) in the main orchestra. While an additional conductor might be helpful, it may be simpler to have the player listen for the dottedhalf (y.) beat pattern established by the Trumpet in m. 29 and simply continue the subdivided pattern independently. A physical cue to the Orchestra Piano player at the start of m. 32 to cease playing will facilitate recoordination.

16) Orchestra Piano in Movement IV, mm. 40–44

The Primo Orchestra Piano here plays the quartuplet quarter values ( t ) of mm. 40–44 in the same time as the dotted quarter notes (t.) of m. 39 and previous measures. Because of this, the Orchestra Piano is, in fact, playing with the BU in an exact t=t relationship. However, the upbeats of the Orchestra Piano are the downbeats of the BU, and vice versa, so the player cannot simply look at the beat pattern of the BU conductor.

It will be simplest for the Orchestra Piano player to extend the tempo of dotted quarter notes ( t.) in m. 39 to the quartuplet quarters in mm. 40–44, and play independently through m. 44. In other words, the dotted quarter ( t.) of m. 39 becomes the quartuplet quarter ( t ) of m. 40; the player only needs to think of the dotted quarter in m. 39 as a triplet quarter, and then employ that value for the triplet quarters within the quartuplets of m. 40.

Alternatively, a rhythmic cue line showing the relationship of the beats of the Main Orchestra to the beats of the Orchestra Piano is provided in the full score and in the part. (See the full score here for illustration.)

A physical cue for the Orchestra Piano player at m. 45 (at its change of meter to #2) will facilitate recoordination with the Main Orchestra.

17) #2vs. $2: Movement IV, mm. 59–63

Here the Flutes, Oboes, Clarinets, and Violins play in #2against the $2of the rest of the Orchestra. The #2parts contain the original notation as well as an ossia translation into $2(diﬃcult). Because reading these rhythms in #2is much easier, this passage would beneﬁt from an assistant conductor to help coordinate the #2instruments.

BU vs. OU: Tempos in Movement IV

BU is perhaps an acronym for “Basic Unit,” because of similar language used in Ives’s Universe Symphony manuscripts, and OU is most likely an acronym for “Orchestra Unit.” Ives works out the tempo relationships between the OU and the BU with mathematical precision in the manuscript sources to the fourth movement. There are no approximations, miscalculations, or missteps in his computations. Additionally, the music in the BU is dynamic, changing in intensity with the changes of mood and character in the OU (e.g., Indian Drum mm. 27–31 and mm. 59–63). The following conclusion is therefore incontrovertible and must be addressed:

Ives intended the tempo ratios between the OU and BU in the fourth movement to obtain throughout. Thus, it is centrally important to the execution of this movement either for the OU to follow the BU or the BU to follow the OU. In either case, the indicated proportions in the full score must obtain, and two conductors working in tandem are therefore indispensable.

The two ensembles “ﬂoat” in relationship to one another by virtue of a temporal dyssynchrony that is actually proportionately related throughout, but which occasionally brings the two ensembles into synchronization (e.g., mm. 35–39 and mm. 72–88). The result is temporal poetry that follows a rondo form (ABACABA) reminiscent of the bridge forms of Bartók. This “Temporal Rondo” is therefore the backbone of the movement—central to its conception and its structure—and must be respected. If the OU is to follow the BU, then the following proportions would be used by the OU:

A: mm. 1–23: OU = BU x 1 a (Tempo Primo)

B: mm. 24–26: OU = BU x 2

A: mm. 27–39: OU = BU x 1 a (Tempo Primo)

C: mm. 40–49: OU = BU x 1 c

A: mm. 50–63: OU = BU x 1a (Tempo Primo)

B: mm. 64: OU = BU x 2

A: mm. 65–71: OU = BU x 1 a (Tempo Primo)

A': mm. 72–88: OU = BU

If the BU is to follow the OU (a more reasonable interpretive decision, given the romantic nature of the music of the OU, which lends itself to agogic phrasing), then the following proportions would be used by the BU in the rondo:

A: mm. 1–23: BU = OU x b (Tempo Primo)

B: mm. 24–26: BU = OU x a

A: mm. 27–39: BU = OU x b (Tempo Primo)

C: mm. 40–49: BU = OU x d

A: mm. 50–63: BU = OU x b (Tempo Primo)

B: mm. 64: BU = OU x a

A: mm. 65–71: BU = OU x b (Tempo Primo)

A': mm. 72–88: BU = OU

As in the case of the Distant Choir (of ﬁve Violins and Harp), the spatial separation of the BU from the OU is central to the presentation of the music. The location of the BU should allow two conductors to maintain visual contact throughout the movement.

For simplicity, the Performance Score assumes a ﬁxed tempo for the BU at y=40 with correlative tempos for the OU at each new section in the rondo. However, the proportion ratios in the two charts provided above are provided at each juncture in the movement, so the related tempos betweeen the two ensembles may be easily derived regardless of whether the OU is following the BU or (more likely) the BU is following the OU.

Additionally, to facilitate the BU’s coordination with the OU, encircled Roman numerals I-V have been placed in the full score and in the individual BU parts at important measures where the downbeats between the two groups coincide. The conductor of the BU may therefore signal with the ﬁngers of the hand where the BU should jump to, should the BU get ahead or behind the OU when the OU arrives at those measures. The measures and their Roman numerals are:

m. 24: I

m. 35: II

m. 65: III

m. 79: IV

m. 85: V

Alternate Snare Drum Part: Movement IV, mm. A-G

The ﬁrst seven measures of the Finale are optional and are lettered A through G. Ives originally scored this movement to begin with the present measure 1, with the BU and the Contrabasses playing together from the start. Ives then changed his mind, and decided that the BU percussion could optionally play its seven measure cycle alone at the beginning of the movement, without the Basses, followed by a repetition of the entire percussion with the Basses. Ives made no provision for how the measures should be renumbered to account for this. Therefore, this edition designates the opening solo percussion pattern as optional measures A through G.

Ives’s repeat creates a problem, however. The Percussion cycle is seven measures long, except for the Snare Drum: its cycle is a half rest longer than the cycles of the other instruments. Repeating the ﬁrst seven measures twice will

therefore result in the Snare Drum losing a beat of its cycle between the first and second pages of the movement. If resolving this is important for the conductor, the Alternate Snare Drum Part is a tenable solution. It is a shifting of the Snare Drum’s first seven measures so that it does not “hiccup” in the transition from page 101 to page 102 of the full score. Beware, though, that the first two beats of the Snare Drum cycle have been dropped entirely to accomplish this, so the part therefore begins mid-cycle.

Dynamic Swell in the BU

The initial crescendo swell in the BU in the fourth movement is apparently desired for the entire movement (evidence for this is found in the oblong MS score). This performance edition realizes the crescendo and decrescendo wedges throughout the full score and the parts, placing them below the Gong staﬀ with the intention that they properly apply to the entire BU section.

Care must be taken to attenuate the dynamics, however. In many cases, the forte (f) midpoint of the BU cycle matches structural high points in the music of the OU where its music is loud. In other cases, the forte midpoint of the BU works against the character of the OU music where it is soft. It is likely that Ives did not consider these occasional clashes of character, and so the conductor might instruct the BU to reduce its dynamic swell according to the nature of the OU music on a passage-bypassage basis.

To assist with this, the forte midpoints in the BU cycle that might conﬂict with the music of the OU are bracketed in the full score and parts with accompanying footnotes, each advising a possible reduction of the dynamic.

Thrush Calls: Movement IV

In mm. 32–33, m. 64, and m. 72, the upper winds play quick figures that are marked “Thrush.” These are imitations of the Thrush, a bird whose trilling call Ives would have heard frequently in New England (the Hermit Thrush, for example, is the State Bird of Vermont). It is essential that the figures be played quickly, so that they sound like a bird call. Editorial fluttertongues have been added to the final note of each three-note figure to imitate the Thrush’s trill.

Notice that in m. 32–33 the Thrush calls—Ives’s invocation of nature—and the interjection by the Distant Choir—the “Heavenly Host”—complete the directive of the ﬁnal measures of the third movement, in which the Trombone quotes from Antioch (“Joy To The World”), “Let Heaven and Nature Sing…”

Tempo Malfunction in the Comedy, m.

29

In the Comedy, starting at m. 19 and running through m. 34 is a gradual accelerando from r=50 to t=108–116. This apparently represents the initial acceleration of the locomotive in the Celestial Railroad program, climaxing with the train whistles in the winds at mm. 34–35. Between the initial and ﬁnal tempo indications, Ives designates increasingly faster metronome markings, with

t=60–66 at m. 25, t=84–88 at m. 29, and t=92–96 at m. 32. Problematic to the these speeds is the equation r=r at m. 29. The previous measure—a ^8bar of t.=60–66—is equivalently at t=90–99. If r=r, then at m. 29 the tempo would be t=90–99, not the stated t=84–88, which would be in error. This faster tempo would also surpass the t=92–96 of m. 32, which creates a temporal conundrum. Ives’s math is typically very good, and so this tempo miscalculation is cause for concern.

The tempo of the ^8 measure is derived from the equation t=t. between it and the previous measure, where the triplet sixteenths of m. 27 become regular sixteenths of m. 28. There is little to doubt in this equation, as the musical ﬁgures are identical between the two measures. The metrical shift from duple time to compound time seems merely a notational shorthand.

But this ^8bar was originally a @4bar in the MS development of the passage, with the sixteenth groups originally written as sextuplets. Notice the quartuplet in the Viola in the second half of the measure: it leads directly into the new pattern in the $8 bar that follows (m. 29).

The r=r indication would therefore appear to be a hold-over from the original @4notation of measure 28, and thus would be an error of commission here.

The most likely reading is t.=t between m. 28 and m. 29. That supports the speciﬁed metronome markings of Ives, and it allows a smooth transition of the Viola line from one measure to the next. However, it will e ﬀect a slowing of the eighths between the measures, and therefore compromise the sixteenths of the Piano lines therein.

A third consideration is the eﬀect on the Contrabasses from mm. 25–30. If they are read through for rhythmic eﬀect, what may sound in isolation as sudden duplets in the $8measure (compared with the triplets of the previous ^8measure) may in context seem to grow naturally from the jagged rhythmic pattern that has come before.

Therefore, the conductor has two choices:

(1) Follow the r=r equation at m. 29, which will rapidly accelerate the tempo in favor of the sixteenths in the Pianos, or:

(2) Let t.=t at m. 29, which will conform to the stated metronomic acceleration and favor the sixteenths of the Viola (which become the dominant melodic line through the subsequent measures).

Solo Piano and Celesta Interaction at End of Prelude

A subtle orchestration detail is found in the interaction of the Celesta and Solo Piano in mm. 39–40 of the Prelude The Celesta may optionally double the melody here. If so, the Solo Piano should not play the ﬁnal notes of the melody, except perhaps the ﬁnal Ck, which it may or may not retain. (Perforce: the instruction in the Celesta for the last note states, “Not if Piano plays C k”.) If that note is played by the Piano, it should not be played by the Celesta. Because Ives’s intention here is easily misunderstood, the following footnote appears in the Solo Piano part:

It woud be helpful to clarify this interaction for the two players and ensure that the passage is executed correctly.

Quarter-tone Piano Drop-out

In the Quarter-tone Piano part, over the last eighth note of m. 221 in the Comedy, Ives writes, “simile, but gradually leaving out intermediate notes.” From that point forward, Ives omits the previous noodlings of the right hand part and instead only writes its major structural tones for the player. To clarify Ives’s easily-overlooked intentions here, an editorial footnote has been added to the part that reads, “In other words, continue playing the preceding righthand pattern, but randomly and increasingly drop notes out of the pattern until only the indicated structural tones remain.” It would be wise to check with the player to ensure that the passage is executed correctly.

Where Does the “Collapse” Occur?

Where the Upper Orchestra comes to rest in the “Collapse Section” is a truly valid technical consideration for crafting a musically effective performance of the passage. If the Upper Orchestra finishes far before its graphical location in the score, the resulting exposure and extension of the Lower Orchestra’s music may prove tedious to listeners. On the other hand, if the Upper Orchestra finishes later than its graphical location in the score, the intended reposeful intermission from turmoil will seem too brief. It is therefore worthwhile to examine this section in terms of the mathematics of the accelerando of the Upper Orchestra and where it should logically arrive. From this we may draw conclusions about what liberties the conductor has for executing the passage a piacere as well as strictly, i.e. following the stated tempos exactly. From mm. 43–51 the Lower Orchestra plays nine measures of #2at y=50. Simultaneously, the Upper Orchestra plays nine measures in $4 , where the first two measures equal the duration of those in the Lower Orchestra. Thus the Upper Orchestra begins at t=66.66 (Ives works out this math explicitly in the manuscripts, although he writes “about 66” for the quarter.) But then, starting at m. 45, the Upper Orchestra gradually accelerates to t=126, finishing in advance of the Lower Orchestra when it reaches m. 51. There is an indication for the Upper Orchestra at m. 50 that it should reach “(up to t=126)”; this could mean that the tempo of t=126 should be reached by that measure, or it could mean that the tempo should be reached by the end of the

next measure (i.e. the last measure of the passage), or somewhere in between.

The Lower Orchestra’s nine measures of #2 at y=50 from mm. 43–51 run 32.4" in duration. 32.4" is thus the total duration of the passage. However, the dyssynchrony extends over the latter seven measures of the passage. We must therefore discount the ﬁrst two measures, where measure=measure between the Upper and Lower Orchestras. The seven measures from mm. 45–51 are the subject of our subsequent analysis.

The Lower Orchestra’s seven measures of #2 at y=50 runs 25.2" in duration. Over those seven measures, the Upper Orchestra accelerates its temporally equivalent $4 t=66.66 to t=126. The arrival point for MM 126 stated by Ives is either at the beginning of m. 50 or (in an extreme case) at the end of m. 51.

So, if an evenly-spread acceleration from t=66.66 to t=126 is to run across all seven measures—i.e. reaching 126 on the last quarter beat of m. 51, thus a total of 28 quarter beats—the resulting music will run 18.07" in duration. This is computed assuming a constant, even addition of 2.1977 metronome units per beat across the accelerando. (While this calculation may seem exacting, the resulting time that results from it should not be largely diﬀerent than what will naturally transpire when the passage is conducted in live performance.)

By contrast, if the acceleration is to terminate at the first beat of m. 50—i.e. reaching MM 126 on the first quarter beat of m. 50—the result for just those five measures (mm. 45–49) is 13.08". The remaining eight quarter beats (mm. 50–51) at t=126 is 3.8", so the total duration for the seven measures of the Upper Orchestra in this case is 16.88".

Thus, the “collapse” should run approximately between 16.88" and 18.07". But where is that in relationship to the y=50 Largo of the Lower Orchestra?

At y=50, 16.88" is 28.12 t beats (or 14.06 y beats) along the seven ﬁnal measures.

At y=50, 18.07" is 30.1 t beats (or 15.05 y beats) along the seven ﬁnal measures.

Counting from the downbeat of m. 45, this would make the ﬁnal beat of the “collapse” of the Upper Orchestra occur between the second and third y of m. 49 in the Lower Orchestra. In real terms, this simply means:

The “collapse” should occur during m. 49 of the Lower Orchestra.

It is interesting that Ives’s instruction to the Basses to “jump” to their tremolo at the end of m. 51 occurs in m. 49 of the Lower Orchestra, precisely where the “collapse” should take place mathematically. (Ives’s math is typically good, and this example is more proof of it.)

It is reasonable, therefore, for the “collapse” to take place during m. 49 of the Lower Orchestra. The graphics of the score are intentionally set to align the two groups at that point for that reason. If the “collapse” happens ear-

lier than m. 49, then the exposed material in the Lower Orchestra may well prove tedious to the listener after several measures. If it happens later than m. 49, then much of the intended eﬀect will have been lost. Therefore, if during rehearsals the “collapse” does not occur in this measure, then the performance tempos should be adjusted; as we shall see, this only requires an examination of the speed chosen for the Lower Orchestra.

The static tempo of the Lower Orchestra may feel better at a diﬀerent speed than y=50. To ensure that the “collapse” occurs in m. 49, the Upper Orchestra’s acceleration tempo should simply be proportional to the Lower Orchestra’s static tempo, following the ratio of Ives’s tempos (t=126 : y=50). To do this, multiply the static tempo chosen for the Lower Orchestra’s half-note by 126 and divide the result by 50. For example, if the “right” performance tempo for the Lower Orchestra’s music seems to be closer to y=60, then the accelerando of the Upper Orchestra should correspondingly reach about 151 (because 60 x 126 / 50 = 151.2).

The important thing, again, is that the result is musical It would seem best only for the last two measures of the Lower Orchestra to sound (i.e. mm. 50–51) when the “collapse” is complete: if any more measures are heard, the exposed material may become tedious; if any fewer measures are heard, the desired eﬀect of repose will become compromised or lost.

Where Do the Train Wheels Come to Rest?

In mm. 143–145, the Main Orchestra decelerates from a tempo between t=112–120 (ﬁrst established at m. 123) down to t=96–108. Simultaneously, the Saxophone, Bassoon, Percussion, and Extra Violin II form a “static tempo” group and maintain the initial tempo (with help from an assistant conductor); they wait at the end of m. 145 for the main conductor to cue them to rejoin the Main Orchestra at the downbeat of m. 146.

Many conductors exaggerate the deceleration of the Main Orchestra here to great agogic effect, and the contrast of the “static tempo” group set in relief against such a deceleration is of great dramatic effect. However, in keeping with the previous analysis of the location of the “collapse” in the “Collapse Section,” it might prove instructive to examine precisely what occurs when Ives’s tempos are followed exactly, and what therefore might be the best interpretive response in order to obtain the greatest musical effect.

Here we are confronting a deceleration over only three measures, so the diﬀerence in endpoints will not be as extreme as in the much-longer “Collapse Section.”

Because there is a range of tempos for the beginning and for the end of the passage, there is a maximum duration and a minimum duration for the passage. The maximum duration would be a deceleration from the fastest possible speed of the initial tempo range (thus t =120) to the slowest possible speed of the ending tempo range (thus

t=96). The other extreme would be a deceleration from the slowest possible speed of the initial tempo range (thus t=112) to the fastest possible speed of the ending tempo range (thus t=108).

For the maximum duration, a deceleration from 120 to 96 spread evenly across 12 quarter notes requires a reduction of 2.18 units at each successive beat (so that 96 is the pulse of the ﬁnal quarter). This will run 6.7" in performance.

For the minimum duration, a deceleration from 112 to 108 spread evenly across 12 quarter notes requires a reduction of .36 at each successive beat (so that 108 is the pulse of the ﬁnal quarter). This will run 6.54" in performance.

Therefore, the three bars performed by the decelerating Main Orchestra will run between 6.54" and 6.7", if the tempos within Ives’s ranges are adopted.

The “static tempo” group will likewise run a range of durations depending on the initial tempo. If that tempo is the fastest possible speed of the initial range (t=120), then the “static” group’s music will run 6". If the tempo is the slowest possible speed of the initial range (t=112), then the “static” group’s music will run 6.42".

Therefore, the three bars performed by the “static tempo” group will run between 6" and 6.42", which is not greatly diﬀerent from the time run by the Main Orchestra (i.e. between 6.54" and 6.7"). To compute where the “static tempo” group will end in relation to the Main Orchestra, you must determine how much time has elapsed at each t beat position of the main orchestra and ﬁnd the location of the end of the “static tempo” group within that listing. Given an even reduction at each beat unit for the more extreme tempo reduction (from t=120 to t=96), the 6 seconds run by the “static tempo” group would end after the third quarter of m. 145 of the Main Orchestra (mathematics omitted here for brevity).

On the other hand, for the less extreme tempo reduction (from t=112 to t=108), the 6.42" seconds run by the “static tempo” group would end just after the 4th quarter of the Main Orchestra. (Again, mathematics omitted here for brevity.)

Comparing these two diﬀerent scenarios and results, and using the tempo ranges provided by Ives, the “static group” will terminate somewhere between the third quarter and just after the fourth quarter of the decelerating Main Orchestra in m. 145.

It therefore might prove more dramatic to obtain a more extreme tempo reduction in the Main Orchestra than what Ives suggests so that the “static” group ends earlier than at the beat locations derived above. In the graphics of the score, the “static” group stops at the end of the ﬁrst beat of the Main Orchestra’s m. 145—i.e., one and a half beats before the point where, mathematically, it should come to rest when the more extreme tempo change is employed. (Perhaps surprisingly, a deceleration from 120 to 74 would be the ﬁrst possible deceleration in

which the graphics of the score would match the outcome of the tempos.)

The resulting effect here is small when compared with the larger and more obvious effect of the dyssynchrony of the “Collapse Section.” However, this dyssynchrony is no less valid than the offset triplets in the “Battle of the Triplets” section, mm. 55–58. It deserves respect for it represents a temporal “shadowing” of material (to contrast with the pitch-wise “shadowing” that occurs elsewhere in the symphony and in so many other places in Ives’s music).

But what does this mean for an interpretation and execution of the passage? In brief, and as suggested at the beginning of this discussion, an exaggerated deceleration of Ives’s prescribed tempos (either slight or extreme) for the Main Orchestra will produce the greatest musical e ﬀect, as doing that will set the music of the “static tempo” group in greatest relief

Measure Numbers and Rehearsal Numbers

Each movement in the Critical Edition and in the Performance Score uses standard measure numbers. However, because of the need to rework multi-metric passages (where, for example, 4 measures with nested multi-metrics in the Critical Edition became 8 simple measures in the Performance Score), the measure numbers are diﬀerent between the two scores. It is therefore important to keep this in mind when comparing the two scores, and especially important to use the Critical Edition only for scholarly reference, not for rehearsal or performance purposes.

The Critical Edition retains the boxed rehearsal numbers that Ives applied to the first and second movements, and they are carried over into the Performance Score. However, to avoid confusion between rehearsal numbers and measure numbers (e.g., rehearsal 12 is at measure 65), the letter A is prefixed to the rehearsal numbers in movement one (thus [A1] [A2] [A3] etc.) and the letter R is prefixed to those in movement 2 (thus [R1] [R2] [R3] etc.) Therefore rehearsal [R12] is at measure 65, etc. The letter R is chosen for movement 2 instead of B so as not to conflict with prominence letter B; see the earlier entry on Prominence (Proximity) Indicators (page x).

Footnote Sigla Conventions in the Full Score

There are three diﬀerent types of sigla used in the Full Score: (1) Sigla for original editorial comments, (2) sigla for the alternative notations found in the players’ parts (and reproduced in full for the conductor in the dedicated essay later in the front matter), and (3) sigla for Ives’s own Conductor’s Note for the second movement.

Because of their shape and because they are both dark and ﬁlled-in, star-shaped asterisks (*) are easily spotted on a page compared with the more commonly used ﬂowershaped asterisks (*). This makes star-shaped asterisks an ideal glyph for original editorial comments throughout the full score. However, the 1929 publication of the Comedy movement used them to reference entries in Ives’s Conductor’s Note, and thus they were used for that purpose in the Critical Edition of the Fourth Symphony on which this Performance Score is based.

So that the Performance Score matches the Critical Edition in this respect, the following typographic convention has been followed in the full score: In movements 1, 3, and 4, original editorial footnotes are indicated with “star” asterisks (*), and in movement 2, original editorial footnotes are indicated with “ﬂower” asterisks (*). In movement 2, Ives’s Conductor’s Note footnotes are referenced with “star” asterisks (*). Throughout the entire score, daggers (†) reference alternative notations.

Text Instructions in the Parts

Orchestral players are accustomed to playing from parts that simply contain music notation and the traditional terms of musical expression and tempo designations. This symphony is so complex that there is a healthy amount of text instructions in each part, and the instructions explain the complex notations in the parts and how they should be conceptualized and negotiated. It would therefore be wise to exhort the players to read the text in their parts carefully and consult the conductor with anything that causes any confusion. Pages from the more complicated parts are reproduced in full for the conductor to study in the following section entitled Part Pages That May Require Explanation. The conductor is likewise encouraged to study that entry in full in anticipation of any questions the players of those parts may have during rehearsals.

Final Thoughts

Despite its wealth of modernisms, this work by Ives is perhaps the last great romantic symphony. It is the wine of late nineteenth-century American musical culture fermented in an early twentieth-century bottle. All of the devices employed by the composer—some of the most challenging to be found in the symphonic literature—are but means to a great and expressive end. The individual parts transcend and inform the whole, which is music of humor, profundity, pathos, and humanity. Meet this work on its own terms and its transcendental message will speak without eﬀort to the minds of all who listen.

—Thomas M. Brodhead

PART PAGES T HAT

M AY R EQUIRE E XPLANATION

Just as the full score contains notational complexities, so do the parts. While all of the part pages are designed to be self-explanatory, some of them may still prompt questions from the players. These will be easier for the conductor to answer if the conductor can see the part

pages in full. What follows are the part pages in question that require special understanding. Each is preceded by a written explanation of the issue (or issues) on the pages and how the graphics of each page should clarify the problem and its solution. —Thomas M. Brodhead

Violin II, Desk 6, Movement II, mm. 142–165 : Extra Violin II (when performed on stage)

This is perhaps the most diﬃcult passage to communicate graphically. If Extra Violin II is played on stage, the two Desk 6 players initially play independently of the main orchestra, but then one of them rejoins the main orchestra while the other continues to play independently. This requires a two-page spread in which one player reads from one page and the other player reads from the other page.

As formatted below, Player 2 reads from the left-hand page and Player 1 reads from the right-hand page. At m. 142, both players join the “strict tempo” group with the Saxophone, Bassoon, and Percussion, most helpfully directed by an assistant conductor. At m. 146—which will have been reached by this independent group at its own moment in time—Player 1 rejoins the main orchestra while Player 2 continues independently, maintaining the previous tempo. Player 2 continues the written pattern

until cued by the main conductor at approximately the second quarter beat of m. 149, at which point the Low Bells must then enter and articulate the structural tones of Player 2. Those two players must continue in this fashion through the “Vanity Fair” section until its end, at which point (m. 161) Player 2 must rejoin the main Violin II section. Player 1 is advised to cue Player 2 at that point.

A page turn is normally performed by the left-seated player at a Violin II desk, and in this case it would be Player 2. But this instance is unique: upon ﬁnishing the left-hand page, that player may habitually begin reading music from the top of the next page, when in reality the next page should be turned. Thus, as a preventative measure, a page-turn reminder is indicated at the bottom of the page so that the player ﬂips the next page instead of playing the next page.

Violin II, Desk 6, Movement II, mm. 217–224: Extra Violin II (when played on stage)

Here again the two onstage players diverge: Player 1 rests, while Player 2 plays the noodling Extra Violin II theme at an independent tempo, approximately 5 quarters ( t ) to the ^8bar. Player 1 should turn the page and cue Player 2 to rejoin the Main Orchestra at the end of the passage:

Therefore, p. 16 begins with this boxed message:

Additionally, there are two diﬀerent possible page turns here that depend on whether the Extra Violin II players are separate, oﬀstage (i.e. spatially-removed) players or whether they are simply the onstage Desk 6 players.

The music on pp. 16–17 in the Desk 6 part contains the Extra Violin II music from m. 237 to the end, and the music on pp. 18–19 contains the main Violin II sectional music for m. 237 through the end; each is distinct.

Therefore, if the Extra Violin II players are offstage (i.e. spatially-removed), then they will simply be reading from the dedicated Extra Violin II part, and this passage should pose no problem. The onstage players sitting at Desk 6, however, should flip ahead to page 18 and finish the movement by playing pp. 18–19, which contains the main sectional music.

However, if the Extra Violin II players are, in fact, the onstage Violin II Desk 6 players, then they should simply turn to the next page (p. 16) and play the remainder of the movement on pp. 16–17 (containing the “Extra” music).

And p. 18 begins with this boxed message:

An explanation of the Extra Violin II music is provided at the beginning of the Violin II Desk 6 part, with a listing of all measures where the Extra parts play. All such passages are clearly marked in the part; the player is advised to ask the conductor whether the Extra parts are played by the players sitting at physical desk 6 or by oﬀstage players reading from the dedicated Extra Violin II part.

Viola, Desk 6, Movement II, mm. 149–162: Extra Viola (when played on stage)

Here the onstage players at Viola Desk 6 likewise diverge. Player 1 plays with the main orchestra and reads the material in the upper box on the page. Player 2 acts as the Extra Viola and plays independently of the main orchestra, entering approximately on the third quarter beat of m. 149, and then repeats a fantasy on In the Sweet Bye and Bye until the second quarter beat of m. 161. Player 1 is instructed to cue Player 2 to stop playing at that point:

Orchestra Piano, Secondo Part, Movement II: Alternative passage for mm. 198–202

Ives’s Conductor’s Note entry on m. 203 somewhat confusingly states:

m. 203, Piano II: Secondo Piano may start with this rhythm at #31 [m. 198] and work up.

In other words, the Secondo Piano may take the triplet rhythm of m. 203 (“this rhythm”, he writes):

alone, and is not extended beyond that measure (this is a subject for analytical speculation by readers of the score, and is beyond the scope of this discussion). But perhaps because of its isolation, Ives considered the possibility of starting with the triplet rhythm at m. 198 and continuing it through m. 203. Ives may also have thought that a pattern in #2would keep both players in the same meter (notice that this is from one of the two #2vs. $4sections).

and use it in place of the rhythm “at #31 [m. 198]”:

…working with it (i.e. playing it) up to m. 203. It is interesting that the triplet rhythm at m. 203 as it stands is an isolated rhythm, conﬁned to that measure

The Orchestra Piano part contains an appendix on its pp. 52–55 in which a realization of this alternative rhythmic pattern has been written out twice. First it is provided in a version in #2, Ives’s main meter for the Orchestra Piano in this passage. However, this version is potentially misleading in its presentation of the triplets beginning at m. 200: They may erroneously appear rhythmically identical to the triplets of the preceding @4bar of m. 199. Therefore, a second version is provided in $4: it should clarify the true rhythmic values of the triplets that begin at m. 200.

Provided below are the principal pages that contain these measures, and then the two alternative notations of the alternate version of the passage. The alternative notations appear in the appendix of the Orchestra Piano part.

Orchestra Piano: Main Notation (see Secondo Part)

Orchestra Piano Appendix I: Alternative Version for Secondo Part, Notation I

Orchestra Piano Appendix II: Alternative Version for Secondo Part, Notation II

A LTERNATIVE N OTATIONS IN THE PARTS

Many of Ives’s rhythms involve subtle shiftings of beats and complex subdivisions with internal rhythms. These may cause rhythmic parsing diﬃculties for players when they are ﬁrst encountered. Where possible, alternative renotations have been supplied in the parts on secondary staves.

However, often the rhythmic translation is more di fficult to interpret and play than the original notation. Therefore, the following is a presentation of the alternative notations for the conductor’s consideration. In some cases, the conductor may feel that the alternative notation is uncomplicated and sufficient for the players to read and perform. In other cases, the conductor may feel that the alternative version is too complicated to read and the passage would be better conducted either with use of an assistant conductor or with a specific technique by the main conductor.

In all cases, the version that is more likely to be read and preferred by the player is presented on the top staﬀ That way it will be closer to the tempo indications, rehearsal boxes, measure numbers, and other information relevant both to rehearsals and to performances.

1) Prelude: Trumpet 1, opening measures

The rhythmic translation of the Trumpet call here is far easier to parse than the original:

The rhythms of the Trumpet 1 part here represent the diﬃculties for all the Trumpets and Clarinets of Group 3 in this passage, in which all triplets are oﬀset by a sixteeenth rest (E). While the translation might prove instructive for rhythmic analysis, it is most likely useless for rehearsal and performance. Helping the players learn to play the triplet pattern just after the beat (perhaps listening for the Triangle and Snare Drum for a coordination pulse if they are close and audible) would be a better solution:

2) Comedy: “Battle of the Triplets,” mm. 55–58

Here, the rhythmic translation of the Viola part, which is representative of all the instruments in Group 2, may be more complicated to execute than a straightforward reading of the regular triplets set o ﬀ by an eighth rest (R). Either an assistant conductor or a careful explanation and conducting technique will serve the original notation of the passage:

3) Comedy: Nested Triplets, mm. 65–67

The notation of the Violoncellos here is representative of the nested triplets that they, the Violas, and the Saxophone must negotiate. Most likely this requires no assistance from the conductor, and the initial quarter-note triplet in the alternative notation is a good enough starting point for feeling and executing the intended rhythm of the measures:

4) Comedy: “Extempore” High Bells, mm. 173–180

Ives explains in his Conductor’s Note that the High Bells start on an oﬀ-beat here and “play almost extempore” to the end of the passage. The rhythmic translation should pose no problem for the player; the original notation is merely a guide to the intent:

5) Finale: #2 2instruments in mm. 59–64

In this passage the Flutes, Oboes, Clarinets, and all the Violins play internal triplets within a #2meter that conﬂicts with the main $2meter of the rest of the Main Orchestra. The rhythmic translation would be exceedingly diﬃcult for the entire group to coordinate accurately, and thus the passage would be better served by an assistant conductor. Here a Violin part represents the passage for the entire group:

6) Comedy: Flute in “Mr. Smooth-it-away” section, mm. 146-148

The eighth-note quartuplet groups played here in the time of dotted quarter notes ( t.) may or may not be more easily read from the analytical renotation, so the latter is shown on the lower staﬀ:

8) Comedy: Flutes in the “Collapse” Section, mm. 43-51

The simple offset triplets here contain a difficult internal figure: groups of filigree grace notes in flourishes that fall in between the triplet notes. At first blush it would appear that the grace notes have no rhythmic precision intended. However, Ives’s MS notation for this passage begins with this for the first flourish:

7) Comedy:High Bells during the “In the Sweet, Bye and Bye” Section in 5, mm. 119-122

In mm. 121–122 the High Bells simply continue their quartuplet motion at the same speed:

This implies that the grace notes that follow are but a shorthand for a metered ﬁguration. Further proof of this is found in the MS sources to mm. 48–50, in which Ives consistently writes the grace note ﬁgure across the barlines; this was done even in the player’s parts to the 1927 premiere of the Comedy, in which Ives thickened the barline at m. 50 in each part to emphasize the bisection of the grace note sequence between the measures.

In the two Flute parts, therefore, a metered realization is presented along with the grace-note “shorthand” version. The conductor may choose to instruct the players to follow the metered realization exactly, or to allow a more freely-styled performance:

—Thomas M. Brodhead

“CONSULT CONDUCTOR” QUESTIONS IN THE PARTS

In addition to the broader issues addressed in the Survival Guide, there are a host of subtle orchestration options by Ives that also merit attention by the conductor. These options include the replacement of one instrument by another, the doubling of certain instruments, and, in some cases, the omission of certain lines. Please bear in mind that Ives’s understanding of each instrument’s sonic projection may have been imperfect, and, as discussed in

Movements I, II, IV

Should Cymbals be rim-mounted on the Bass Drum? (This question applies to the Bass Drum and Cymbals in the Main Orchestra and in the BU.)

Movement

I

Throughout: Should Clarinet in A replace Solo Viola?

mm. 5–16: Which should play solo, Violin or Cello?

mm. 10–16: Should Violin II Desk 1 replace Flute 1? (It’s not clear here and later if Ives intended the Flute to be optional throughout the movement or if Ives is simply providing Flute cues in the Violin sections should the orchestra not have a Flute.)

mm. 17–26, 30–33: Should the Flute or the Violin I section play the quartuplet melody? (Violin I parts have instructions on how to divide the material appropriately if the Flute does not play.)

mm. 30–33: Should the Trombone play?

mm. 39–40: Should the Celesta play? (See the entry in the Survival Guide on its interplay with the Solo Piano.)

Movement

II

Throughout: Should Extra Violin II and Extra Viola be performed by onstage players (Desk 6 in each section) or by oﬀstage players (most easily by D.C. members moved to distinct locations)? (See the entry on pp. vii–viii of the Survival Guide for more information.)

mm. 19–30: Should Violin I Desk 2 double Violin I Desk 1? Ives indicates “2 or 3 soli”; Desk 1=2 soli, Desk 2=4 soli.

mm. 68–71: Should Clarinet 2 double Clarinet 1? (The Clarinet 1 part has full-sized notes with the memo “Tacet if string section is small.”)

mm. 107–111: Should Trumpet 4 double Trumpet 3?

m. 114: Should the Timpani and Gong play their ossias? (See Ives’s Conductor’s Note on this measure for clariﬁcation.)

mm. 115–122: Should Orchestra Piano II play the Bassoon line ossia? (See Ives’s Conductor’s Note for clariﬁcation.)

mm. 123–131: Should Trombones 2–3 double Trumpets?

mm. 123–138: Should the Saxophone replace Bassoon 1?

the Survival Guide, his concern that one instrument might overwhelm another is often extreme.

In the parts, each option is marked “Consult Conductor.” Below is a complete listing of these options. The conductor should use this page as a checklist (consulting both the full score and Ives’s Conductor’s Note) and then ask the orchestra librarian to mark the parts appropriately.

—Thomas M. Brodhead

mm. 124–138: Should Trombone 4 omit the parenthetical notes?

mm. 141–142: Should the Primo Orchestra Piano omit its right hand part?

m. 153: Should the Strings play the triplet ﬁgures?

m. 161–167: Should 2 soli Violins (Desk 1) replace the Flutes here?

m. 173: Should the Contrabass section play 8va?

mm. 173–179: Should the Saxophone replace Bassoon 1?

mm. 194–197: Should Trumpets 1–3 & Trombones 1–3 play the bracketed material? (See entry in Ives’s Conductor’s Note .) If not, Indian Drum should also be tacet

mm. 194–200: Should Celesta replace High Bells?

mm. 200–207: Should Clarinet 2 and 3 double Clarinet 1?

mm. 200–207: Should Trombones 3–4 double Trombones 1–2?

mm. 211–212: Should Trumpet 3 play 8va?

mm. 211–216: Should Trombones 3–4 double Trombones 1–2?

mm. 225–236: Should the Saxophone replace Bassoon 1?

mm. 225–265: Should Trumpet 6 double Trumpet 1 and Cornet to the end? (See Ives’s Conductor’s Note on m. 225 and m. 247. Note that Trumpet 5 plays Cornet exclusively in this movement, and Trumpet 6 only plays in movement IV otherwise.)

mm. 232–244: Should Clarinet 3 double Clarinet 1?

mm. 237–251: If Xylophone is used, should it double the Violins or the Piccolo here?

mm. 252–261: Should Trumpet 4 double Trumpet 3?

mm. 252–259: If Xylophone is used, should it double the Cornet or the Piccolo here?

Movement IV

mm. 12–14: Should Oboe 1 be omitted? (Unique line.)

mm. 34–39: Should Flute 2 or Oboe 1 play the lower notes on this melody?

mm. 35–39: Should Violin I Desk 2 double Violin I Desk 1? (Ives writes “2 soli, or 4 if many violins.”)

mm. 37–39: Should Bassoon 2 be omitted?

THE PROGRAM OF MOVEMENT II: THE CELESTIAL RAILROAD

The Comedy movement of the Fourth Symphony is an orchestral expansion of Ives’s piano piece The Celestial Railroad, which is a musical depiction of the short story “The Celestial Rail-road” by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Synopsis of Hawthorne’s The Celestial Railroad

In Hawthorne’s tale (itself a trope on Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress), a man falls asleep and dreams that within his sinful world (the City of Destruction) there is a fantastic locomotive that speeds its passengers in nineteenthcentury comfort to the Celestial City, where all heavenly rewards reside. Befriended by a Mr. Smooth-it-away, the narrator boards the train with other passengers just before it chugs into motion and takes off on its tracks, leaving in its wake two solitary pilgrims who have chosen a much less comfortable pedestrian journey to the Celestial Gates. The train passes many horrible sights, makes stops at temptation-filled venues such as Vanity Fair, and then finally comes to rest at Beulah Land on the river Jordan. Everyone leaves the train to take a ferry across the river to the Celestial City, having been spared the arduous foot journey of the pilgrims (who, perhaps not surprisingly, have already crossed the river and are being welcomed into the pearly gates). Upon boarding the ferry, the narrator discovers that Mr. Smooth-it-away is no longer with him but is back on the shore, having reverted to his true demonic form. The narrator realizes that all has been a hoax and tries to jump from the boat, but a splash of deathly cold water from one of the boat’s wheels shocks him awake, and the comic nightmare there ends. (“Thank Heaven it was a Dream!”, he exclaims.)

Ives’s Twist

In the ﬁnal section of Ives’s tone poem, the composer lends the ending a home-town twist: the man awakens to the sound of Fourth of July celebrations at Concord, Massachusetts. No sooner are we enveloped in celebrations than the music abruptly ends with one ﬁnal joke: the orchestra halts in its tracks without forewarning the Viola section.

Ives’s Comedy mirrors Hawthorne’s tale in the following manner:

mm. 1–5: The dream begins with train bells sounding in the Solo Piano.

mm. 6–18: Depiction of the City of Destruction; boarding of the Celestial Railroad.

mm. 19–37: The train’s departure from the point of view of the train passengers: Train wheels gradually accelerate (Low Strings), two pilgrims1—possibly seen through the train windows—are left behind as the train takes o ﬀ (Soli Violins), train whistle blasts (Winds, mm. 34–35).

mm. 38–54: The train’s departure from the pilgrims’ viewpoint: Depiction of the pilgrims trudging along the short and narrow path (tutti mm. 38–42; Lower Orchestra, mm. 43–51; tutti mm. 52–54), depiction of the train taking oﬀ with train passengers jeering at the pilgrims (acceleration of the Upper Orchestra, mm. 43–51).

mm. 55–138: Depiction of horrible sights along the railroad tracks and depiction of the revelry inside the train.

mm. 139–145: Slowing of the train wheels as the train comes to a stop (Percussion, Bassoons, Saxophone).

mm. 146–148: Mr. Smooth-it-away.2

mm. 149–161: A polite tea-party social at Vanity Fair.

mm. 162–207: Back on the train again, with more horrible sights and sounds along the tracks.

mm. 208–210: An initial glimpse of Beulah Land.

mm. 211–216: One “last and horrible” scream by the locomotive engine.

mm. 217–224: Depiction of Beulah Land (Violin solo) and the waters of the river Jordan (Quarter-tone Piano).

mm. 225–265: Sudden awakening from the dream to the reality of Fourth of July celebrations at Concord.

—Thomas M. Brodhead

1 The tune intoned by the soli Violins here, In the Sweet Bye and Bye, would seem to represent the two solitary pilgrims encountered by the narrator here and again throughout his journey. Subsequent quotations typically set the tune against a cacophonous orchestral backdrop, perhaps suggesting the jeering of the unsympathetic train passengers.

2 The rotating figure first sounded by the Extra Violin II in m. 142 (and returning in various guises to the very end of the movement) would seem to represent the machinations of Mr. Smooth-it-away. The syrupy Violin melody at m. 146, a transformation of the rotating figure, is labeled “Mr. Smooth-it-away” in the corresponding section of Ives’s piano solo, The Celestial Railroad, which Ives orchestrated and greatly amplified to create this movement.

BELLAMANN’S PROGRAM NOTE TO THE 1927 PREMIERE OF THE PRELUDE AND COMEDY MOVEMENTS

Ives’s voice can be heard clearly in the 1927 program note otherwise written by Henry Bellamann.1 The note reveals a diﬀerent—perhaps the original—order for the movements. —James B. Sinclair

TWO MOVEMENTS FROM A SYMPHONY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Charles E. Ives (First Time)

Mr. Ives is an American, born in Connecticut, and educated at Yale. He studied with Horatio Parker, but an extremely individual manner of musical thought was evident even in the student fugues and sonatas of that period.

An examination of his unpublished scores reveals a gradual evolution with no sharp transitions. Some of the larger works written many years ago employed polytonal and atonal devices, with quarter tone experiments and harmonic developments which precede in point of time the innovations of the extreme modernists. Mr. Ives’ Music, it must be remembered, rests upon the secure foundation of a sound musical education. It is actually far more logical than Schoenberg, and equally uncompromising. It is of New England—the New England of a granitic Puritanism—and reﬂects a strangely introspective and profoundly philosophic temperament in its extreme unsensuousness and in its closely knit and irrefutable logic. Almost it would seem that the New England spirit of the forefathers has come incredibly into an adequate artistic expression.

This symphony, the fourth, was written for the most part in 1910 and completed about ten years ago. It consists of four movements,—a Prelude, a majestic fugue, a third movement in comedy vein, and a ﬁnale of transcendental spiritual content.

The aesthetic program of the work is that of many of the greatest literary and musical masterpieces of the world—the searching questions of What? and Why? which

the spirit of man asks of life. This is particularly the sense of the prelude. The three succeeding movements are the diverse answers in which existence replies.

One word should be spoken here of the peculiar place hymn tunes held in the consciousness of the old New Englanders of the country and the smaller towns. Religion was the only emotional outlet of these earlier Puritans, and hymns the only expression in art medium. All of the repressed humanity of those rock bound souls was poured into fervent renditions of them. Some of these hymns were ﬁne, some very poor, and many were the worst of musical compositions, but we cannot take any account of the emotional workings of the mind and heart of the Puritan without an admission of these themes as vehicles.

The texture of this symphony is threaded through with strands based on old hymns—not quotations from them, but thematic material derived from them. Most auditors will be surprised to discover that many of the hymn tunes are in a pentatonic scale (fourth and seventh either omitted or used sparingly on weaker accents). This characteristic makes it quite natural to interweave them, and is at the same time productive of atonal aspects of the musical development.

The prelude is brief, and its brooding introspective measures have a searching wistful quality. It would seem to derive from the silence of a Sabbath hour when the soul, beset and weary of earthly vexations, turns toward the Inﬁnite, toward life and in upon itself with questions of the ultimate meaning of existence.

1 Most of the program note would appear to have been written or dictated by Ives. Bellamann may have been solely responsible for paragraphs 1, 2, 11, 12, 15, and 16 (though still based on thoughts from Ives). The presentation of this program note is unedited, save for an added [bracketed] comma and the elimination of a single comma following the word “years” in the ﬁ nal paragraph. —James B. Sinclair

It is scored for strings, voices, trumpet, celesta, piano with a distant choir of harp and muted strings. The Fugue, omitted in this performance, is an expression of the reaction of life into formalism and ritualism. 2

The succeeding movement, the one being played at this concert, is not a scherzo in any accepted sense of the word; but it is a comedy. It is comedy in the sense that Hawthorne’s Celestial Railroad is comedy. Indeed this work of Hawthorne’s may be considered as a sort of incidental program in which an exciting, easy, and worldly progress through life is contrasted with the trials of the Pilgrims in their journey through the swamp. The occasional slow episodes—Pilgrims’ hymns—are constantly crowded out and overwhelmed by the former. The dream, or fantasy, ends with an interruption of reality—the Fourth of July in Concord—brass bands, drum corps, etc. Here are old popular tunes, war songs, and the like.

The movement is scored for ﬂutes, piccolo, clarinets, trumpets, cornet (in the impromptu manner of the soloists in the old bands)[,] trombones, percussion groups, solo piano, a second piano used orchestrally, high and low bells, and strings.3

Melody, harmony, orchestral color and thematic development are used as contributing factors to the rhythmic structure which is of unprecedented complexity. There is a

simultaneous movement of quasi-independent rhythms on four or ﬁve planes. These are not meant to be heard separately. The blend of the cross rhythms, of long and short rhythmic curves, promotes the intricate and exciting movement.

These rhythmic clashes and contradictions are in the nature of rhythmic dissonance , if a phrase may be coined to describe them.

Basically there is a rhythm marked by gongs, and deeper metallic timbres. Above that the drums, then smaller drums, and an Indian drum. Above these the wood wind is used rather as percussion—brass similarly. There is notable absence from the score of the lyrical voices of oboe and French horn. The solo piano plays the role of leader.

The use of long groups of seven, eleven, and thirteen in the last movement as rhythmical units without intramensural accents may be noticed. In nearly all of these cross rhythms the parts begin on unaccented beats. Sometimes these units coincide on the initial beats, more often they have only a paragraphic coincidence.

This is music of hard bone and tough sinew. It is bound into technical unity by the most extraordinary mastery of material that is often crabbed and fractious.

This expression of Dionysian frenzy, written, it must be remembered, some years ago, is a curiously apposite portrayal of contemporary mental and moral excitement.

2 Here would be the likely location of Ives’s oft-quoted and revelatory sentence, “The last movement is an apotheosis of the preceding content, in terms that have something to do with the reality of existence and its religious experience.” In his own Memos, Ives attributes that comment to Bellamann’s program note, yet the sentence is found nowhere in Bellamann’s text. This strongly suggests that Ives drafted or ghost-wrote most of the note for Bellamann. More importantly, it underlines the signi ﬁcance of the entire note for understanding Ives’s own philosophical thesis for the symphony. —Thomas M. Brodhead

3 The list overlooks the presence of bassoon, tuba, and celesta. —James B. Sinclair

IVES’S CONDUCTOR’S NOTE TO MOVEMENT II

The Comedy movement of the Fourth Symphony was ﬁrst published in Henry Cowell’s New Music quarterly as vol. 2, no. 2, January 1929. The original A “Conductor’s Note” to the second movement of a fourth symphony by Charles E. Ives was distributed as an insert to the following issue (vol. 2, no. 3, April 1929). Unfortunately, through numerous oversights, those notes did not correlate to all of the asterisks that Ives had placed in the pr inted score. In addition, in his manuscripts Ives gives other important information about the performance of this music. The following expanded and edited notes use Ives’s memos and marginalia from his Fourth Symphony manuscripts to collect information that might otherwise clutter the score pages. Ives’s original notes (lightly edited) are shown here in boldface . Notes within square brackets oﬀer editorial speculation where Ives left no directives. Ives’s original use of page numbers for reference location has been altered here to cite the relevant measure number(s). —James B. Sinclair, Thomas M. Brodhead n the following, reference is made to the asterisks on the pages in the printed score. The letters (in a circle) over some of the parts indicate the degree of prominence [proximity] these may take.*

I1 Bassoon: Bassoon I may be interchanged, as indicated, with a Tenor or Baritone Saxophone. [It is not always clear what Ives wanted in the optional use of Saxophone(s). The 1929 published score does not give a complete picture of Ives’s manuscript memos. The present Ives Society edition ﬁlls in with information from Ives’s markings on his copyist’s score. It does not seem advisable to use Saxophone throughout (no source indicates a Saxophone substitution for mm. 1–6 and 173–79). There are passages where a Bassoon would handle the soft dynamic marking much better (e.g., mm. 165 & 173–79).]

1 Cornets & Trumpets: It is rather essential that Trumpets be not substituted for the Cornets. The number of the Trumpets depends to a certain extent upon the size of the orchestra. At least three are required; at Sec 31 [m. 198], 34 [m. 211], and from Sec. 38 [m. 225] on, more are advisable.

1 Bells & Triangle: The Triangle may be taken by the High Bell player, though a separate player is advisable. It is assumed that the Low and High Bells present a continuous scale and of like quality.

1 Timpani: The Timpani are tuned (and not changed) as low and as high as will give suitable resonance—preferably a little under or over an octave, but not an exact octave.

1 Light Gong: The Light Gong may be a small cymbal (hung and fairly taut).

1(–5) Violins: [One player per note; very distant; harmonics where possible (resultant pitch notated here).]

1(–5) Bass: The recitative of the Basses controls this page. (If there are [only] a few Basses, some of the Cellos may play with them [8va]).

3(–5) Solo Piano: The Solo Piano from the third measure to [the] end of the page may not be played in the exact time relation indicated by the measure divisions, but there is rather a brief accelerando and crescendo and an easing down toward [the]

end of [the] Bass recitative. It is better not to have the Orchestra Piano[s] in the front of the orchestra nor next to the Solo Piano.

5 Bass: [The glissando at the end of the measure goes through the hold, blurring into m. 6 agitato. It is to be played] slowly, in major thirds, falling through wholetones.

7(–15) Solo Piano: Omit Solo Piano in [mm. 7–8] if a quarter-tone piano is not available; also omit it in [mm. 10, 12, 14–15] for the same reason.

19 Cello: Div. in two or three parts ad lib. throughout unless double stops happen to lie right and are on the accents.

38(–42) Clarinet I: As a kind of distant chord; G sharp not held very much.

38(–42) Piano I & Violins: If few strings, Primo Piano may be omitted to Sec. 8 [m. 43]. It is preferable to have no double-stopping here. Throughout the movement there is little double-stopping indicated. The players may use it at their discretion, to better bring out the accent and rhythm, especially if the string orchestra is not large. Only the lower Violin II goes up to D natural, others hold their notes.

38(–42) Viola: Played as a kind of distant chord, not holding F sharp much.

40–41 Piano I: Perhaps better to omit these two measures and repeat ﬁrst two measures [38–39], unless there be a good body of strings.

43(–51): The instruments are divided here into two separate orchestras; the lower continuing the preceding adagio, while the upper, including woodwind, brass, timpani and both pianos, breaks suddenly in, canceling the sounds of the lower orchestra (unless its players can be placed near enough to the majority of listeners or the upper orchestra removed suﬃciently so that it may, in a

way, be heard through the lower). Both groups may keep in the time relation indicated on this page, but at the beginning of the next page [m. 45] the upper orchestra begins to play gradually faster and faster until the “collapse” indicated [at upper orchestra m. 51], but which will occur sooner—perhaps towards the end of [the previous] page [approximately lower orchestra m. 49]. Care must be taken that the lower orchestra in no way increases its tempo or intensity through here. After the upper orchestra has stopped, the lower must sound quietly on as if it had been oblivious of the disturbance. During this passage it may be advisable to have one of the players in the upper orchestra act as a separate conductor.

50 Piccolo: [Glissando quickly through approximately the full range of the instrument.]

55(–58): This passage is an illustration of a matter discussed in the footnote [below]. If the instruments here could be grouped and placed apart from each other and at varying distances from the audience, the rhythms would better stand out in their perspective.

75(–106) Clarinets: Legato, except short and sharp on sf notes.

107(–111) Piano II: L.H. may take even beat if Trumpets are strong. [Perhaps Ives means the L.H. may play its chords on the quarter note beats (t) as an ossia.]

108 Piano I: L.H. may be omitted if Solo Piano and Clarinet are enough, or upper notes in R.H. may be doubled in octaves.

114 Timpani & Gong: [Ives may have unintentionally interrupted the patterns here (m. 114 begins new page in MS source M). To maintain the pattern, the Timpani and Gong should each play their ossias.]

115(–122) Piano II: Better to let Piano II play Bassoon part, and omit %16ﬁgure which Solo Piano must play distinctly.

123–132 Trombones: Two tenor Trombones may reinforce the Trumpets here, though this may not be necessary if the orchestra is not large.

126 Snare Drum: If the Snare-drum player takes the unit of the Bass-drum as his basic pulse, it will be easier to play.

136 Viola: These chords are more of a blow than tones— double stops (ad lib.) will help here and in similar places.

141(–145) Percussion & Bassoons [& Tenor Sax]: All the Percussion with the Saxophones or Bassoons play in Sec. 21 as a single and independent group. If phrased in 5’s [it is] clearer in playing. There may be a slight ritardando as well as a decrescendo [of the Main

Orchestra] in this passage which may extend into Sec. 22 (if so, they [i.e. Sax & Perc] wait at end of [m. 145] …and begin at conductor’s beat at [Sec.] 22 [m. 146]). If so, one of their number acting as leader for these few measures will simplify the playing.

142 Extra Violin II: This does not slow down with rest of orchestra, but continues same time or faster, ppp [from last measure of p. 47], as though in distance—better to have [Ex.Vn] in back [of section] or oﬀ-stage.

149 Low Bells: If the Low Bell be used here, the player should be near the Strings, especially to the Second Violins playing the extra part. It is but to clarify in an unobtrusive way the lower notes of the extra string parts at the beginning of each group of ﬁve.

149 Extra Violin II & Extra Viola: The number of players for the extra string parts in the following pages depends to a great extent on the piano tone and the acoustics of the hall.

153 Strings: The pizzicato may be omitted if the percussion instruments here give a suﬃcient sense of rising pitch.

156 Extra Violin II & Viola [& Low Bells]: [These continue as before, unaﬀected by the tempo change.]

156 Solo Piano: A take-oﬀ here on polite salon music. This is sweetie sweet stuﬀ—violet water, pink teas in Vanity Fair social life—Chaminade, Chopin at their worst— make it sound mushy.

161 Flutes: Let two violins (sordini) play this if Flutes stand out too much. Upper part lighter than lower.

161(–164) Low Bells, Extra Violin & Extra Viola: The Extra Strings and Bell may continue a little farther and gradually stop after the rhythms in the più mosso get going.

161(–164) Snare Drum: Bass drum, ppp, with a slight cymbal ring, may be used [with snare drum] in the next four measures.

167 Solo Piano: Solo Piano predominates here.

173 High Bells: The High Bells start on this oﬀ-beat and play almost extempore until the end of [m. 180].

180 High Bells: The High Bell may not take the time literally in this measure, but rather as a short ritardando

186(–190) Gong: Do not use small cymbal here unless the common beat needs reinforcing—or use it lightly at the beginning of the &16rhythm if that seems to need it.

194(–197) Brass & Percussion: Care must be taken [here] to make the plain after-beats (r) stand out; the rest are but shadings of sound. All other parts must ﬁt into the

time of the tune (Piano I-R.H. and Violins) which has a kind of lilt (sometimes)—i.e., it’s elastic, having the eﬀect of a dance tune—but isn’t. The Brass may be omitted from here to the measure before Sec. 31 [m. 197] if the Pianos stand out suﬃciently and if the string orchestra is not large.

194 High Bells: Celesta better than Bells here.

197 Trumpets & Trombones: [no memos: perhaps that the Trumpets take over the lead here.]

198(–207) Piano II: The phrases in L.H. (of six notes) should be brought out if possible.

198 Snare Drum: The Snare-drum will take his phrases more easily by listening carefully for the accented beat of the Indian Drum (the third of the three-beat group) as indicated by the dotted lines [connecting the Sn.Dr & I.Dr staves—provided in Sn.Dr part as a coordination cue].

198 Bass [& 200 Vcl.]: More of a blow here than a note; any middle notes that suit the bowing may be used here. Viola, Cello, & Basses are used almost as drums.

200(–207) Cornet: The Cornet part in this Sec. 31 should cut its way down through the mass. Probably Mr. Theremin’s Ether-organ could be used effectively here.

203 Piano II: Secondo Piano may start with this rhythm at #31 [m. 198] and work up. [i.e. the triplet quarter rhythm of m. 203 may be substituted for the eighth-note rhythm of m. 198 and maintained from mm. 198–203. A realization of this is provided in the part.]

207: The “hold” just before Sec. 33 ceases the moment the Largo is started, but not before. The Extra Violin starting on this hold may play ahead with its phrase and continue it “impromptu” until Sec. 34 [i.e., through m. 210]. This part should be scarcely audible. In Secs. 33, 36, & 37 it is better, if possible, to have Celesta and Solo Violin at a distance or oﬀ the stage.

210: There may be a slight “hold” before Sec. 34— preferably not.

211 Piccolo & Flutes: R.H. part in Piano I may be omitted if Piccolo, Flute I & Clarinet I are strong enough (then Piano I may double the L.H.)

216 Strings: The quarter-tone notes in the Strings at Sec. 35 may not be taken exactly; a slight rise and fall in pitch, less than a semi-tone, will do. The last chord in all parts, except those playing at Sec. 36, should stop just as the Largo begins and not before. (In this and similar places, what is wanted, in a way, is the suggestion of the feeling one may

have when entering a church; and as the street noises are suddenly shut out, the organ is heard quietly playing an old hymn that has ministered in the church for generations.) Distribute the doublestopping according to the number of strings.

217 Vn1 (solo): Not too prominent—as a song; use sord. [if not at a distance (note for m. 207 indicates it best for solo violin to be at a distance or oﬀstage). Accents show shifted phrasing (not to be played heavily).]

217 Ex.Vn2: From here on the one or two violins are almost independent—perhaps about ﬁve quarter beats in this ^8

218, 220, 222 Piano I: The Primo Piano plays here only if there is no quarter-tone piano available.

225 Trumpets: More trumpets than four from here on would be better, especially if the orchestra is quite large.

226(–231) Piano I: R.H. notes may be omitted [through these measures] and L.H. doubled [at the octave] if Trumpet and Solo Piano are strong.

226 Violin I: Kind of a swarm (or use glissando piano). Part of the Violins can play up high to get a kind of harmonic cluster, heard just faintly.

232(–236) Violin I: The First Violins throughout Sec. 39 may play an approximate glissando resembling harmonics, in the last part of the measures.

232 Cello: As a drum; divisi or double stop, ad lib.

234(–235) Solo Piano: This L.H. may be used in the two preceding measures.

238 High Bells: High Bells may use top octave if Low Bells [i.e. low range of High Bells] do not reach low enough & Triangle is then omitted.

245(–246) Piano I: These two measures are awkward and diﬃcult, and Piano I may play just R.H., omit L.H., and [instead] reinforce Piano II-L.H. If very fast, the groups of three notes may be rolled as one chord just after each beat.

247(–251) Cornet: From the fourth beat of [m. 247], to Sec. 44 [i.e. to the end of Sec. 43], it is well, especially if the orchestra is large, to have some of the Trumpets play with the Cornet.

250(–253) Piano I: Primo Piano continues the phrase faster and faster until at Sec. 45 it is twice as fast as it was the ﬁrst time played (beginning at end of [m. 250]).

265 Low Bell & Solo Piano: The Low Bell and the B natural in the Solo Piano sound on after the last notes of the Violas.

* To give the various parts in their intended relations is, at times, as conductors and players know, more difficult than it may seem to the casual listener. After a certain point it is a matter which seems to pass beyond the control of any conductor or player into the field of acoustics. In this connection, a distribution of instruments or group of instruments or an arrangement of them at varying distances from the audience is a matter of some interest, as is also the consideration as to the extent it may be advisable and practicable to devise plans in any combination of over two players so that the distance sounds shall travel, from the sounding body to the listener’s ear, may be a favorable element in interpretation. It is difficult to reproduce the sounds and feeling that distance gives to sound wholly by reducing or increasing the number of instruments or by varying their intensities. A brass band playing pianissimo across the street is a different sounding thing than the same band playing the same piece forte, a block or so away. Experiments, even on a limited scale, as when a conductor separates a chorus from the orchestra or places a choir o ff the stage or in a remote part of the hall, seem to indicate that there are possibilities in this matter that may benefit the presentation of music, not only from the standpoint of clarifying the harmonic, rhythmic, thematic material, etc., but of bringing the inner content to a deeper realization (assuming, for argument sake, that there is an inner content). Thoreau found a deeper import even in the symphonies of the Concord church bell when its sounds were rarified through the distant air. “A melody, as it were, imported into the wilderness . . . at a distance over the woods the sound acquires a certain vibratory hum as if the pineneedles in the horizon were the strings of a harp which it swept . . . a vibration of the universal lyre, just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to the eye by the azure tint it imparts.”

A horn over a lake gives a quality of sound and feeling that is hard to produce in any other way. It has been asked if the radio might not help in this matter. But it functions in a diﬀerent way. It has little of the ethereal quality. It is but a photographing process which seems only to hand over the foreground or parts of it in a clump.

The writer remembers hearing, when a boy, the music of a band in which the players were arranged in two or three groups around the town square. The main group in the bandstand at the center usually played the main themes, while the others, from the neighboring roofs and verandas, played the variations, refrains, etc. The piece remembered was a kind of paraphrase of “Jerusalem the Golden,” a rather elaborate tone poem for those days. The bandmaster told of a man who, living nearer the variations, insisted that they were the real music and it was more beautiful to hear the hymn come sifting through them than the other way around. Others, walking around the square, were surprised at the different and interesting effects they got as they changed position. It was said also that many thought the music lost in effect when the piece

was played by the band altogether, though, I think, the town vote was about even. The writer remembers, as a deep impression, the echo parts from the roofs played by a chorus of violins and voices.

Somewhat similar effects may be obtained indoors by partially enclosing the sounding body. For instance, in a piece of music which is based in its rhythmic side principally on a primary and wider rhythmic phrases and a secondary one of shorter span, played mostly simultaneously—the first by a grand piano in a larger room which opens into a smaller one in which there is an upright piano playing the secondary part, if the listener stands in the larger room about equi-distant from both pianos, but not in a direct line between them (the door between the rooms being partially closed), the contrasting rhythms will be more readily felt by the listener than if the pianos be in the same room. The above suggests something in the way of listening that may have a bearing on the interpretation of certain kinds of music. In the illustration above, the listener may choose which of these two rhythms he wishes to hold in his mind as primal. If it is the shorter spaced one and played after the longer has had prominence and the listener stands in the room with the piano playing this, the music may react in a different way—not enough to change its character, but enough to show possibilities in this way of listening. As the eye, in looking at a view, may focus on the sky, clouds or distant outlines, yet sense the color and form of the foreground, and then, by bringing the eye to the foreground, sense the distant outlines and color, so, in some similar way can the listener choose to arrange in his mind the relation of the rhythmic, harmonic and other material. In other words, in music the ear may play a rôle similar to the eye in the above instance.

Some method similar to that of the enclosed parts of a pipe organ played by the choir or swell manuals might be adopted in some way for an orchestra. That similar plans, as suggested, have been tried by conductors and musicians is quite certain, but the writer knows only of the ways mentioned in the instances above.

When one tries to use an analogy between the arts as an illustration, especially of some technical matter, he is liable to get in wrong. But the general aim of the plans under discussion is to bring various parts of the music to the ear in their relation, as the perspective of a picture brings to the eye. As the distant hills, in a landscape, row upon row, grow gradually into the horizon, so there may be something corresponding to this in the presentation of music. Music seems too often all foreground even if played by a master of dynamics.

Among the physical difficulties to a satisfactory working out are those of retarded sounds that may a ffect the rhythmic plan unfavorably and of the cancellation of sounds as far as some of the players are concerned, though the audience in general may better hear the various groups in their intended relation. Another di fficulty, pro-

bably less serious, is suggested by the occasional impression in hearing sounds from a distance, that the pitch is changed to some extent. That pitch is not changed by the distance a sound travels unless the sounding body is moving at a high velocity is an axiom of acoustics; that is, the number of the vibrations of the fundamental is constant; but the effect does not always sound so—at least to the writer—perhaps because, as the overtones become less acute, the pitch seems to sag a little. There are difficulties transcending those of acoustics. The cost of trial rehearsals, duplicate players, locations or halls suitably arranged and acoustically favorable, is very high nowadays. The plan will seem to some little more than another way of increasing the already heavy burdens of conductors, orchestras and their management. In fact, most of the remarks in this rather long footnote are somewhat out of place in a “Conductor’s Note.” It is far from the intention to have these taken as an issuance of instructions. The writer has but taken the opportunity to get some things out of his system that have been there for some time; whether the process will help or not help music presentation is another matter. Nor does anything that has been said mean to imply that music which might be benefitted by a certain arrangement, etc., of players, cannot be given acceptably well in the usual way, with sufficient rehearsals and care in preparation.

The matter of placement is only one of the many things which, if properly examined, might strengthen the means and functions of interpretation, etc. The means to examine seem more lacking than the will to examine. Money may travel faster than sound in some directions— but not in the direction of musical experimentation or extension. If only one one-hundredth part of the funds that are expended in this country for the elaborate production of opera, spectacular or otherwise, or of the money invested in soft-headed movies with their music resultants, or in the manufacture of artless substitutes for the soul of man, putting many a true artist in straightened circumstances—if only a small part of these funds could be directed to more of the unsensational but important ﬁelds of musical activity, music in general would be the gainer.

Most of the research and other work of extending and distributing the premises, either by the presentation of new works or any other ways, has been done by societies and individuals against trying obstacles. Organizations like the “Pro-Musica” Society, with its chapters throughout this and foreign countries, the “League of Composers,” the “Friends of Music” (in its work of uncovering neglected premises of the past), and similar societies in the cities of this and other countries, are working with little or no aid from the larger institutions and foundations who could well aﬀord to help them in their cause. The same may be said of individual workers,—writers, lecturers and artists who take upon themselves unremunerative subjects and

unremunerative programs for the cause, or, at least for one of the causes they believe in—the pianist and teacher1 who, failing to interest any of the larger piano companies in building a quarter-tone piano for the sake of further study in that field, after a hard day’s work in the conservatory, takes off his coat and builds the piano with his own hands,—the self-effacing singing teacher 2 who, by her genius, character and unconscious influence, puts a new note of radiance into the life of a shop-girl,—the open-minded editor of musical literature3 and the courageous and unselfish editor of new music quarterlies4 who choose their subject-matter with the commercial eye closed.

Individual creative work is probably more harmed than helped by artificial stimulants, as contests, prizes, commissions and subsidies; but some material aid in better organizing the medium through which the work is done and interpreted will be of some benefit to music as a whole. In his interesting treatise, “Music: A Science and an Art” (Alfred A. Knopf, New York), Professor Redfield says: “The States of Europe have reached sufficient maturity to recognize the wisdom of extending governmental support to musical institutions. America is yet too young, perhaps, to take this point of view; possibly the attitude of American governments toward music is one inherent in democracy.” Although in some instances, if there be especially able men at the head as there are in the Music Division of the Library of Congress, the government’s aid may be a favorable influence, yet, it is probably better in this country, for a while at least, to keep music out of politics; it might become softened up as some tenets of morality and personal conduct seem to have been by the contact. It may be better to trust the people and the individual. They, after enough opportunity to examine the premises and so get at the underlying facts, whether in a fundamental matter of music or of economics, may work out their own problems better than statesmanesque politicians can for them. “As compared with the endowment of an additional musical foundation providing for the instruction of interpretive artists” of which he says, “there is in America an over-supply”—though probably only an over-supply of a certain kind—“the endowment of a school for musical research should commend itself.” “If . . . the musical philanthropist establishes an institution for conductors and composers or for the improvement of musical instruments and music itself, through research in the fundamentals of music, then he is entering a field where the harvest is great and the laborers few. Every one who contributes according to his ability to the improvement in the world of music, is choosing probably one of the most prolific fields for the expenditure of his eff orts, for human betterment.” But the voice born the day after Adam and every day since, keeps on chanting, “there’s nothing in all this— there’s nothing in art to-day worth developing, worth reading, worth looking at or listening to—art is dead”— and somebody says to Rollo, “How do you get that way?”

In closing, and to go still further aﬁeld, it may be suggested that in any music based to some extent on more than one or two rhythmic, melodic, harmonic schemes, the hearer has a rather active part to play. Conductors, players, and composers, as a rule, do the best they can and for that reason get more out of music and, incidentally, more out of life—though, perhaps, not more in their pockets. Many hearers do the same, but there is a type of auditor who will not meet the performers halfway by projecting himself, as it were, into the premises as best he can, and who will furnish nothing more than a ticket and a receptive inertia which may be induced by predilections or static ear habits—a condition perhaps accounting for the fact that some who consider themselves unmusical will get the “gist of” and sometimes get “all set up” by many modern pieces, which some of those who call themselves musical (this is not saying they’re not)—probably because of long acquaintance solely with certain consonances, single tonalities, monorhythms, formal progressions and structure—do not like. Some hearers of the latter type seem to require, pretty constantly, something, desirable at times, which may be called a kind of ear-easing and under a limited prescription; if they get it, they put the music down as beautiful; if they don’t get it, they put it down and out—to them it is bad, ugly or “awful from beginning to end.” It may or may not be all of this, but whatever it is

will not be for the reason given by the man who doesn’t listen to what he hears.

“Nature cannot be so easily disposed of,” says Emerson. “All of the virtues are not ﬁnal”—neither are the vices.

The hope of all music—of the future, of the past, to say nothing of the present—will not lie with the partialist who raves about an ultra-modern opera (if there is such a thing), but despises Schubert, or with the party man who viciously takes the opposite assumption. Nor will it lie in any cult or any idiom or in any artist or any composer. “All things in their variety are of one essence and are limited only by themselves.” The future of music may not lie entirely with music itself, but rather in the way it makes itself a part with—in the way it encourages and extends, rather than limits, the aspirations and ideals of the people—the ﬁner things that humanity does and dreams of. Or to put it the other way around, what music is and is to be may lie somewhere in the belief of an unknown philosopher of a half century ago, who said:

“How can there be any bad music? All music is from heaven. If there is anything bad in it, I put it there—by my implications and limitations. Nature builds the mountains and meadows and man puts in the fences and labels.”

He may have been nearer right than we think.

C. E. I. Henry Cowell o ﬀered the following identiﬁcations of the references in Ives’s text:

1 Hans Barth, pianist, composer, and inventor, whose Concerto for Quarter-Tone Piano and Strings was premiered in 1930 (the year after the New Music publication [of the Comedy movement]) by Leopold Stokowski with the Philadelphia Orchestra.

2 Katherine Bellamann, wife of Henry Bellamann [author (or co-author?) of the program note to the premiere of the Prelude and Comedy movements of the Fourth Symphony, reproduced here on pp. xxvi–xxvii].

3 Minna Lederman[?], editor of Modern Music , the quarterly review of the League of Composers.

4 Henr y Cowell, composer and founder (1927) of the New Music quarterly

THE MEANING OF IVES’S CONDUCTOR’S NOTE ESSAY

The essay concluding Ives’s Conductor’s Note is a dense treatise whose meaning is diﬃcult for readers to grasp even after repeated encounters. This is understandable, because the thicket of ideas presented by Ives is not helped by his free-associative manner of writing, which is otherwise wonderful in its mercurial style. So impressive were the ideas in the essay that Henry Cowell reprinted it (edited and shortened) under the title “Music and Its Future” in American Composers on American Music: A Symposium (1933). But it is doubtful that even Cowell grasped its actual meaning for the Comedy movement of the Fourth Symphony.

The essay is a footnote to Ives’s introductory sentence, “The letters (in a circle) over some of the parts indicate the degree of prominence these may take.” All the text in the essay is therefore a gloss on that instruction. Ives’s farreaching mind simply could not provide a concise explanation of the encircled letters (the “prominence indicators,” hereafter), so he expanded upon their intended use in the Fourth Symphony to discuss how all music might beneﬁt from the eﬀect they denote.

Conventionally, the prominence indicators have been interpreted as sigla that rate the importance of the various threads of the orchestral fabric, much like the Hauptstimme and Nebenstimme symbols of Schoenberg. Kurt Stone, who supervised the original 1965 publication of the Fourth Symphony, assumed as much, and wrote in his review of the premiere, “How concerned [Ives] was over questions of proper balance shows itself in the scale of prominence of the diﬀerent musical components (what Schoenberg called Haupthema and Nebenthema, etc.), which he added to the usual dynamic markings, a scale that goes from A all the way down to F!” 1

But an examination of the music does not support this interpretation. Instrumental parts with the same prominence letter in the same passage do not necessarily share the same material. This contradicts an interpretation linking prominence with musical content. Prominence letters do not follow any consistent dynamic pattern, either: On a single page, might be mp while is ff and is pp.Increasing the entropy, parts with the same prominence letter do not always share the same dynamic level: may simultaneously comprise f, mp, and pp while includes both fff and mf. Lastly, consecutive prominence letters are often missing in passages, where, for example, , , and are employed but , , , and are absent.

Whither prominence? The cause for misinterpretation is in large part semantic. By using the word “prominence,” Ives invites the reader to infer priority, but Ives is actually referring to physical prominence, meaning proximity

Brieﬂy, Ives’s plan is for members of the orchestra to be seated at varying distances from the audience in order to

create the effect of volume at a distance. Ives’s experiments with spatial separation of musicians is well-documented for other works, and, at first blush, a discussion of his plan for the second movement of the Fourth Symphony may seem conventional. But, in fact, his plan for the movement is quite extraordinary, and is very much different from the scattered instructions for spatial separation found in his other works.

In his Memos, Ives writes on the Fourth Symphony:

Technically, an important matter that has to do with the playing of this symphony, especially the second and fourth movements, is that of varying degrees of the intensities of various parts or groups. . . . If the players are put as usual, grouped together on the same stage, the eﬀect of the sound will not give the full meaning of the music. These movements should not all be played in the foreground, with the sounds coming the same distance from the sounding bodies to the listeners’ ears. 2

Here it is clear that Ives intends the musicians to be seated in an unconventional manner. From this it is natural to segue to the opening sentence of the Conductor’s Note essay:

To give the various parts in their intended relations is, at times, as conductors and players know, more diﬃcult than it may seem to the casual listener. . . . In this connection, a distribution of instruments . . . or an arrangement of them at varying distances from the audience is a matter of some interest, as is also the consideration . . . to devise plans . . . so that the distance sounds shall travel, from the sounding body to the listener’s ears, may be a favorable element in interpretation. . . . Experiments . . . seem to indicate that there are possibilities in this matter that may beneﬁt the presentation of music, not only from the standpoint of clarifying the harmonic, rhythmic, thematic material, etc., but of bringing the inner content to a deeper realization. . . .

Ives has therefore established a direct connection between prominence and physical proximity.

If the distance between the audience and the players is altered, the perceived volume of the individual parts will likewise be aﬀected. Ives addresses this issue in the Conductor’s Note essay in this way:

It is diﬃcult to reproduce the sounds and feeling distance gives to sound wholly by reducing or increasing the number of instruments or varying their intensities. A brass band playing pianissimo across the street is a diﬀerent sounding thing than

the same band playing the same piece forte, a block or so away.

Here Ives points out that our apprehension of the absolute volume of sound is constant even when our distance from the source of the sound varies. For example, the quantity of volume that is received from a trumpet playing f across the street may not be great, but the quality of the sound makes it apparent to us that the trumpet is, in fact, playing f. Ives is not interested in muting sounds by placing instruments far from the audience, but instead his interest is creating the eﬀect of volume at a distance for the various parts of the score. Therefore, the dynamics printed in the score likely indicate the absolute volumes instruments should perform unto themselves and the prominence indicators deﬁne the distance from the audience where the instruments should be located.

Therefore, a part marked should be closer to the audience than a part marked than a part marked , etc. But how would this affect a specific section in the score? At rehearsal 10—the “Battle of the Triplets” section—Ives employs for triplets on the beat, for triplets offset by an eighth rest (R), and for triplets offset by a sixteenth rest (E). In the Conductor’s Note entry on this section Ives writes:

This passage is an illustration of a matter discussed in the footnote. If the instruments here could be grouped and placed apart from each other and at varying distances from the audience, the rhythms would better stand out in their perspective.

Varying the distances would indeed clarify this passage. During conventional performances, each successive entrance wipes out the previous one, so that when all of the triplet patterns are sounding, then typically only the topmost one is heard clearly. Distance might, in fact, set the three rhythms in relief.

Realizing this plan would be exceedingly diﬃcult: Because Ives does not state exactly how the instruments are to be arranged, it becomes a matter left up to the creativity of the conductor and his willingness for experimentation; because the instruments often switch prominence levels from line to line, duplicate musicians would need to be located at diﬀerent “prominence areas” so that the same instrument could be at two locations at the same time; because the instrumental forces would be excessively large, novel auditorium accommodations would be necessary; and, obviously, extra rehearsals would be mandatory to

ensure eﬀective coordination of the ensembles. In the Conductor’s Note essay, Ives addresses these issues directly:

The cost of trial rehearsals, duplicate players, locations or halls suitably arranged and acoustically favorable, is very high nowadays. The plan will seem to some little more than another way of increasing the already heavy burdens of conductors, orchestras and their management.

But does this mean that the symphony should only be performed with a novel seating arrangement of the players? Ives responds:

. . . whether the process will help or not help music presentation is another matter. Nor does anything that has been said mean to imply that music which might be beneﬁted by a certain arrangement, etc., of players, cannot be given acceptably well in the usual way, with suﬃcient rehearsals and care in preparation.

But if these eﬀects are not audible, has Ives the composer failed at his craft? Or does the fault lie in poor orchestration? Ives apparently considered these problems and answered them in his entry on the Fourth Symphony in the Memos:

. . . is a sound which is constant . . . cancelled, when another louder sound . . . comes, so that the hearer does not seem to hear the ﬁrst sound? I have never yet seen any theory describing (both aurally and scientiﬁcally) the nature and processes etc. of sound-waves, together with their relation to the physiology of the ear, that seemed to me absolute proof that sounds (as above) are cancelled. The Professors and musicians say—“If you don’t hear this sound (and a graph does not show the waves of this sound), isn’t that proof that they are cancelled?”—NO—How does the listener know that he doesn’t hear? 3

Therefore, even if a conductor chooses a traditional orchestral seating arrangement for a performance of the Fourth Symphony—an arrangement that risks blurring many of the multi-dynamic acoustic eﬀects in the second movement—the audience would still receive all of the sounds contained in the score and would therefore apprehend them, consciously or unconsciously.

—Thomas M. Brodhead

1 Kurt Stone, “Ives’s Fourth Symphony: A Review,” The Musical Quarterly, Vol. 52, No. 1 (January 1966): 7. Notice that Stone overlooks the seventh prominence level, G.

2 Charles E. Ives, Memos, ed. John Kirkpatrick (New York: W. W. Norton, 1972), 67.

3 Ibid.

OU COORDINATION WITH BU IN FINALE, MM. 65–70

In measures 65–70 of the Finale, Ives writes music for the 2 Clarinets, 2 Oboes, and the lower staﬀ of the High Bells that temporally synchronizes with the BU. Perhaps because the instruments are playing onstage with

the Main Orchestra, Ives notated their rhythms as a series of eight quartuplets evenly spread across two cycles of three $2Main Orchestra measures, as shown here on two consecutive systems (m. 71 is included to match p. 126):

In the performance score (pp. 125–126), the quartuplets have been written out using equivalent rhythms. The parts include “counting” numbers to help players keep their place (a helpful editorial device that has been applied in

the parts to the longer measures throughout the Finale, not just in this section), and the eﬀective rhythms appear on a cue staﬀ below, as shown here in this representative Clarinet part:

Because the BU ensemble is spatially separated from the main OU orchestra, it is unlikely that the ﬁve players (2 Oboes, 2 Clarinets, High Bell) will be within the line of sight of the conductor of the BU. Therefore, they will simply follow the main conductor using the principal notation provided in the full score and parts. However, in the unlikely event that these instruments can, in fact, see the BU conductor, a modiﬁed “restoration” of the original

notation appears on a cue line in their parts (as seen above in the Clarinet part example). This cue line may be helpful for individual practice purposes, as it serves as a realization of the eﬀective rhythms of the passage. Should the BU conductor (or yet another conductor) wish to conduct these instruments to the beat patterns of the “restored” notation, the following is a digest of the aﬀected parts in mm. 65–70 (and 71 to match p. 126 of the score):

—Thomas M. Brodhead

I NTERPRETIVE AND R EHEARSAL A GOGICS

Ives may have been the ﬁrst sound-mass composer, albeit achieving those walls of sound not with static harmonic clusters, but with rapidly moving melodic lines (e.g., #2vs. $4sections in the Comedy: mm. 200–207 and mm. 211–217). But even in those sections, the instruments play at diﬀerent dynamic levels, where certain instruments are clearly intended to “cut through” (Ives’s phrase in his Conductor’s Note) the rest of the material. And so it goes for the entire symphony, which is a celebration of melodies: certain lines must stand out in each passage, else the music risks becoming an inpenetrable thicket of sound lacking anything for the listener to hang his or her hat on. It’s therefore important to consider in each section what are the predominant lines and how to emphasize them.

Ives’s indications for indistinct dynamics (“…barely perceptible…”) seem at times theoretical concepts: if an instrument is all-but-inaudible to the conductor, will it be audible at all for listeners in the balcony, or even for listeners just a few rows back from the front of the auditorium? If a line is interesting to the conductor/interpreter, it seems wise to ensure that it can be heard by all.

Ives was also a composer steeped in the Romantic tradition, and as detailed as his modernist ideas were, his music will suﬀer if a mechanical interpretation is applied to it. Phrasing is key to an engaging performance of Ives; his attention to tempos and temporal transitions alone attest to its necessity. As such, an agogic extension of certain measures will help convey the alternately intriguing and beautiful sounds that they contain.

What follows is therefore a listing of elements in the score that may require special interpretive or rehearsal attention (or both, as the case may be).

Prelude

* m. 20, 22, 24: Perhaps allow “breathing room” and exposure for the Solo Piano in each of the poco tenutos in these measures. (The a k4 in the Solo Piano in m. 24 is the “Glory-beaming Star” of the Watchman hymn; it’s no coincidence that the Basses begin the Finale using A k s when intoning “Bethany,” nor that the ﬁnal note in Violin I at the end of the Finale is a k4.)1

Comedy

* mm. 7–15: Perhaps employ an audible dynamic for the two soli Violins here; they are in dialogue with the Solo Piano and Quarter-tone piano, and thus should be heard as easily by the audience as the Pianos will be.

* mm. 38 onward: The one or two soli Violins might likewise be best played audibly here.

* mm. 43–46: Ives originally wrote the Clarinets’ line 8va, but a copyist failed to reproduce the tessitura. Ives never caught it, even when proofing the 1929 publication, so we can only speculate whether he had changed his mind about the octave. The ﬁrst version of this edition corrected the copyist error, and at 8va, the Clarinets could clearly be imagined as the train passengers razzing the pilgrims. But at that octave, they drown out all other instruments. This edition writes the triplet figures in between the tutti chords loco but optionally 8va. Try it both ways, and choose whichever way makes better musical sense.

* mm. 59–60: Notice that the 1st and 2nd Trumpets have the loudest dynamic, and in m. 61 the Solo Piano then takes the dynamic lead.

* mm. 107–111: Notice that the Tenor Saxophone and the Primo Piano play the same #16metrics as the Trumpets (all renotated to fit the $4 meter). It may be wise during rehearsal ﬁrst to ensure the Trumpets can play their rhythms, then the same for the Saxophone and Primo Piano, and then ﬁnally combine them as a group.

* mm. 112–114: The High Bells have the loudest dynamic and their top line is the principal melody; it may be wise to ensure that it stands out.

* mm. 115–120: The Clarinets, Trumpet I, Trombone I, and Violin II have the principal melody (“In the Sweet Bye and Bye”), albeit each at a diﬀerent dynamic level. The rest of the instruments in the IN 5 group are punctuating “Come, Thou Fount of Evr’y Blessing” at ff, but it is doubtful that their melodic line could be made to stand out. Bringing out the dynamics of the Clarinets, Trumpet, Trombone, and Violin II to emphasize their tune—a principal theme in the composition of the movement—seems a stronger interpretive choice.

* mm. 123–138: The Flutes and Piccolo are marked to sound “at pitch,” but the Piccolo’s notes are inaudible when ﬁngered/played an octave lower than printed in the full score (and as faithfully rewritten in the part). If a Flute were to play the Piccolo’s part at sounding pitch (i.e. in the Flute’s highest octave), however, it would easily sound above the music below. So, the 2nd Flute player—who has cues for the Piccolo part for this passage—may replace the Piccolo here, playing the cue in the sounding octave of the music, and the Piccolo may resume playing in m. 139.

* mm. 123–135: The accents in the Secondo Piano, Solo Piano, Cellos, and Basses might provide a good rhythmic counterpoint to the melody in the Trumpets; Ives writes of the accents, “as a drum…struck and left.”

* mm. 141–145: To maximize the diﬀerence in tempos between the “static tempo” group and the main orchestra, it would be wise to execute a greater decelerando in the main orchestra than indicated in the score, perhaps reaching t=80 or less in m. 145.

* mm. 141–145: The Solo Piano is ff and should emerge from the texture as the “static tempo” group dissolves (the “static tempo” percussion are initially at f, and they should initially stand out, as they represent the slowing of the train’s wheels in the Celestial Railroad program of the movement).

* mm. 161–165: The ragtime of the Solo Piano, reinforced by Trumpet I, should likely be set in dynamic relief.

* mm. 178–180: Even with paper covering the bell, the Cornet line should sail above the rest of the orchestra, being overtaken by the Trombones in m. 180.

* mm. 181–190: The accented notes in the Trombones, Secondo Piano, and low strings should likely punctuate the material below the soaring line of the Violins.

* mm. 200–207: The leading melody in the #2orchestra is in Trombones I & II (cued in III & IV, if needed for emphasis), and the corresponding leader in the $4orchestra is the Cornet, which is doubled by the Ether Organ; Ives states in the Conductor’s Note to the movement that the Cornet should “cut through” the texture.

* mm. 213–215: Here again, the Cornet & Ether Organ should “cut through” the texture. Also, notice that Trumpet III is optionally 8va in mm. 211–212; this may or may not be desirable provided the Cornet’s entrance in the same range in m. 213.

* m. 264: The Comedy ends with the greatest Viola joke ever written (i.e., they’ve lost their place in the music); ensure that the Violas are fully exposed and caught with their pants down.

Finale

* m. 19: The septuplet of the soli Violin II players may be proﬁtably brought to the fore.

* mm. 32–34: The bird calls in the woodwinds and the star-music of the D.C. are performing an antiphonal dialogue, here fulﬁlling the Trombone’s directive at the end of the Fugue (“Let Heaven and Nature Sing…”). Ensure that the D.C. can be heard clearly; the melody in the Violin I and the Ether Organ on the ground below should be audible as well.

* mm. 50–58: The principal melody in Violin II, Flute 2, and Clarinet 1 would be good to bring out initially, then the brass in m. 54, who are then in dialogue with Violin II to shape this climactic passage of the movement’s rondo.

* mm. 59–63: It may be e ﬃcacious for the Principal Conductor to conduct the #2parts, as the y tempo of the #2is unchanged from the previous section; using this technique, the second onstage conductor would conduct the $4parts, subdividing 4 against the Principal Conductor’s unchanged 3.

* m. 64: The interplay of the thrushes in the Woodwinds and the heavens-music in the D.C. is best heard if the measure is not rushed; notice that the ^2y is equal to the $2y of the previous section.

* mm. 65–70: notice that the brass, at mp, have the loudest dynamics of the section; the melody in the ﬁrst Trombone would seem to deserve prominence.

* m. 71: A cadential harmony emerges from the polyphony: II 6 5 I 6 4 V in D-major.2 Slowing this measure a bit to expose the harmony may enhance its beauty.

* m. 85: Notice the encircled Roman numeral V: it is the last of five such OU-BU coordination cue numerals where downbeats between the OU and the BU align (with five numerals chosen to correspond to the five fingers of the hand, thus allowing the principal conductor to hold up corresponding numbers of fingers as a signal to the conductor of the BU). It is vitally important that the BU percussion trails o ff at the end—having the last word of the movement, just as it began it—so even if the other coordination numerals are not being used, this one is especially helpful for aligning the BU with the OU so that it will be at the right place at the movement’s end

Considerations of Sonic Projection in the High Bells

* Re: Comedy mm. 112–114, 115–122, 123–135, 173–177; Finale mm. 40–49, 65–71: The melodies in these measures need to be clearly audible in the orchestral texture. Despite Ives’s desire for the Bells part to be played at pitch, Glockenspiel (sounding 8va or 15ma) might, in fact, be better for these measures. A solution in which continuous timbre and written pitch are maintained is preferred, but either one or both of these may need to be sacrificed for musicality (i.e. to ensure those musical lines will be heard clearly).

—Thomas M. Brodhead

1 See Michael Jacko, Context, Ideology, and Performance in Charles Ives’s Symphony no. 4 , 2014 University of Maryland PhD Dissertation.

2 See Jan Swaﬀord, Charles Ives: A Life with Music , p. 363, n. 34.

W HERE A SSISTANT C ONDUCTORS M IGHT B E E MPLOYED

There are many places where an assistant conductor (or assistant conductors) might prove useful or essential. This will need to be determined by the principal conductor, and is a function of his or her interpretation of the score. To assist the conductor in this process, below is a listing of the most obvious locations where an assistant conductor might be employed (or certainly must be employed):

Movement I

* The D.C. may beneﬁt from an assistant conductor as it alternately plays in synchronization with the main orchestra and independently of the main orchestra. Especially helpful to the D.C. would be the coordination of the tutti cut-oﬀ at m. 27.

Movement II

* mm. 1–5: Although the principal Bassist might lead the entire Bass section in this unmetered (but editorially barred) passage, an assistant conductor might more successfully coordinate the players and ensure that they play at a slightly slower tempo than the Main Orchestra.

* mm. 43–51: An assistant conductor is essential for the Upper Orchestra in the “Collapse” section.

* mm. 55–58: An assistant conductor would facilitate the Group 2 instruments in this passage by conducting a pulse set oﬀ by an eighth rest (R), thereby allowing the players to execute Ives’s original notation in their parts with ease (the alternative, analytical renotation ossias in the parts are diﬃcult to read and to execute on the main quarter beats T of the measures).

* mm. 115–121: An assistant conductor would facilitate conducting the IN 2 instruments in this passage.

* mm. 141–145: An assistant conductor would be indispensible for controlling the “static tempo” group during this passage, as different principal conductors tend to take the decelerando of the Main Orchestra at widely-different tempos (some decelerating to a much slower tempo than Ives indicates, typically to great agogic effect). As indicated in the full score, two Extra Violin II players must join the “static group” at the second measure of the passage, and one Extra Violin II player must continue on at its m. 146, each event potentially benefitted by a cue from the conductor of the “static tempo” group.

* mm. 149–150: An assistant conductor might cue the Extra Violin II and Low Bells to begin their coordinated pattern, and then cue the Extra Viola to begin thereafter.

* mm. 200–207: An assistant conductor would likely control the #2group while the principal conductor would lead the $4group.

* mm. 211–216: An assistant conductor would likely control the #2group while the principal conductor would lead the $4group.

Movement IV

* As explained in BU vs. OU: Tempos in Movement IV in the Survival Guide, an assistant conductor is essential for coordinating the spatially-separated BU with the OU, regardless of whether the interpretive intention is for the BU to follow the OU (the more likely scenario) or for the OU to follow the BU (the less likely scenario).

* mm. 59–63: An onstage assistant conductor would be extraordinarily helpful for the instruments in #2, which encompass the entire Violin I and II sections in addition to the Flutes, Oboe, Clarinets, and D.C. Violins. The alternative, analytical notation in $2found as an ossia in the parts is extremely diﬃcult to read and execute. The same conductor might be useful for helping the D.C. group synchronize with the Main Orchestra during the ﬁnal measures of the movement (mm. 72–88+), thereby assuring that the D.C. dissipates with the BU percussion in the work’s poetic ending.

How Many Assistant Conductors Are Required?

Because the Finale requires a separate conductor for the oﬀstage BU (so that it can coordinate with the OU), and because an onstage assistant conductor is necessary for the instruments in #2mm. 59–63 in the Finale as well, it follows that two assistant conductors would be ideal: one on stage to conduct the polytemporal and multi-metric passages in both the Comedy and Finale, and one oﬀstage to coordinate the BU with the OU in the Finale

The offstage conductor of the BU could additionally help the D.C. group go in and out of synchronization with the main orchestra in the Prelude , although if that group has a clear view of either the main conductor or the onstage assistant conductor (by dint of the location of the D.C. in the hall or through use of video equipment), the D.C. group may be able to coordinate with the main orchestra in both the Prelude and the Finale without its own conductor. Ensuring that the D.C. group is synchronized with the main orchestra during the fi nal measures of the Finale is crucial musically and difficult in terms of execution, as they must subdivide 5 against the #2of the main orchestra. Therefore, the onstage assistant conductor might conduct the D.C. (from a clear vantage point or by using video equipment) from measure 72 to the end in order to facilitate the ending.

—Thomas M. Brodhead

C HECKLIST FOR THE O RCHESTRA L IBRARIAN

Because the number of musical and mechanical elements that must be harnessed for this work is extraordinary, the following checklist is provided for the orchestra librarian. It includes the most obvious things that should be apprehended before the ﬁrst rehearsal and then during all subsequent rehear sals and performances. Additional items that are speciﬁc to the performance requirements of the cond uctor and ensemble may be added to the bottom:

* Please ensure the string players understand that they are playing from desk parts. Passages marked “div.” and passages divided between two staves are to be divided between the two players at that desk, not among the players of the whole section. There is a notice about this on each cover page and a footnote on the ﬁrst page of music of each part, but it still may be overlooked or misinterpreted by the players.

* Please ensure that the principal string players are aware that because each desk plays from a separate part, unique bowings may be required for each part in their sections.

* If you do not have a sixth physical Violin II desk, the Violin II Desk 6 part must be assigned to the last physical desk on stage, and there must be two players at that desk. For example, if you only have five Violin II desks, the fifth physical Violin II Desk players should play from the Violin II Desk 6 part. The only exception to this would be if you have two dedicated, offstage (spatially-separated) Violin players playing from the dedicated Extra Violin II part.

* If you do not have a sixth physical Viola Desk, the Viola Desk 6 part must be assigned to the last physical desk on stage, and there must be two players at that desk. For example, if you only have five Viola desks, the fifth physical Viola Desk players should play from the Viola Desk 6 part. The only exception to this would be if you have a dedicated, offstage (spatially-separated) Viola player playing from the dedicated Extra Viola part.

* Please ensure that the Percussionists know that the Low Bells (or perhaps just the subset of the four required bells) must be placed near the Extra Violin II player (on or oﬀstage) for the passage in Movt. II, mm. 149-161. (If played oﬀstage [i.e. spatially removed], the four bells might be played by the second Extra Violin II player who is silent during that passage.)

* If an acoustic keyboard is being used for the Quartertone Piano, please ensure that the piano tuner receives a copy of the scordatura piano tuning instructions, which are contained in the opening pages of the Scordatura Quarter-tone Piano part.

* If there is not a dedicated player for the Quarter-tone Piano and, instead, one of the Orchestra Piano players is switching to the Quarter-tone Piano for its passages,

please ensure that the Scordatura Piano part is what the Orchestra Piano player is reading when playing the Quarter-tone instrument (whether electronic or acoustic). The Orchestra Piano part contains notation showing the resulting, true pitches of the Quarter-tone Piano, and some players may incorrectly conclude that the realization shown in the Orchestra Piano part is what is to be played on the Scordatura instrument, which is not the case.

* The Indian Drum and Piccolo Timpano are combined in one part, suggesting a single player. However, if the Indian Drum player of the Comedy is playing with the BU in the Finale, then there needs to be an additional player to cover the Piccolo Timpano in the Finale. In that case, if the optional Xylophone is being employed in the Comedy , then its player may play the Piccolo Timpano in the Finale ; otherwise, another player will need to be found for the Piccolo Timpano.

* If an electronic keyboard is being used for the Bells, a skilled keyboardist will be required to play the part. Additionally, the passage in mm. 65–71 in Movt. IV will require an assistant player with minimal keyboard skills to play either the top or bottom staﬀ. If the Triangle player has such skills, that player might be employed for those measures, as the Triangle part is tacet during that passage and thereafter.

* Following Moore’s law, new electronic devices will replace old ones every 18 to 24 months on average. Therefore, the electronic alternatives to the Quarter-tone Piano and the six-octave Bell set provided by the publisher at the time of this publication will undoubtedly be superseded with different electronic solutions in the future. It is therefore imperative to consult the publisher regarding these electronic alternatives. Obviously, all necessary equipment and corresponding instructions should be received, reviewed, tested, and proven to be working properly before the first rehearsal. Perhaps less obvious is that the players of the equipment should be given hands-on instruction regarding the set-up and requirements of the devices they will be using. This is necessary in case the equipment should accidentally become unset in between rehearsals and require re-adjustment, a situation that the Orchestra Librarian or other appropriate personnel may not have time to correct in the typical flurry of onstage activity before a rehearsal or a performance begins.

—Thomas M. Brodhead

INSTRUMENTATION REQUIREMENTS FOR REHEARSALS

Because each movement employs a diﬀerent combination of instruments, the following listings may prove valuable to conductors in organizing rehearsals of the Fourth Symphony. —Thomas M. Brodhead

Movement I: Prelude

Distant Choir *

Violins 1, 2, 3, 4

Harp

Flute 1

Clarinet in A (optional, in place of Solo Viola)

C Trumpet 1

Trombone 1 (optional)

Celesta

Timpani

Bass Drum & Cymbals **

Chorus (SATB)

Solo Piano

Violin I

Violin II

Viola

Violoncello

Contrabass

Movement II: Comedy

Piccolo

Flutes 1, 2

Bb Clarinets 1, 2, 3

Bb Tenor Saxophone

Eb Baritone Saxophone

Bassoons 1, 2

C Cornet (played by Trumpet 5)

C Trumpets 1, 2, 3, 4

C Trumpet 6 (optional)

Trombones 1, 2, 3, 4

Tuba

Quarter-tone Piano

Orchestra Piano

Celesta

Ether Organ (optional)

Xylophone (optional)

High & Low Bells

Timpani

Triangle

Indian Drum ***

Snare Drum

Bass Drum & Cymbals **

Light & Heavy Gongs [Tam-tams] ****

Solo Piano

Violin I

Violin II

Extra Violin II (2 players) *****

Viola

Extra Viola (1 player) *****

Violoncello

Contrabasses

Movement III: Fugue

Flute 1

Bb Clarinet 1

F Horn 1

Trombone 1

Timpani

Organ

Violin I

Violin II

Viola

Violoncello Contrabass

Movement IV: Finale

Distant Choir *

Violins 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Harp

Piccolo

Flutes 1, 2, 3

Oboes 1, 2

Bb Clarinets 1, 2

Bassoons 1, 2

F Horns 1, 2, 3, 4

C Trumpets 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Trombones 1, 2, 3, 4

Tuba

Orchestra Piano

Quarter-tone Piano Celesta

Organ

Ether Organ (optional)

High & Low Bells Triangle Piccolo Timpano Timpani

BU Percussion * Snare Drum Indian Drum *** Bass Drum & Cymbals ** Gong [Tam-tam] ****

Chorus (SATB)

Solo Piano

Violin I

Violin II

Viola

Violoncello Contrabass

* Oﬀstage.

** Likely rim-mounted.

*** A small to medium Pow Wow Drum would be appropriate.

**** Here Ives deﬁnitely intends Tam-tams to be employed; see the entry in the Survival Guide entitled Gongs, p. viii.

***** The Extra Violin II is assigned to Violin II Desk 6, and the Extra Viola is assigned to Viola Desk 6. Notice that the “Extra” music may be performed either by the players at the 6th desks or by separate, oﬀstage players. See the entry in the Survival Guide entitled The Extra Violin II and Extra Viola Parts, pp. vii–viii.

Distant Choir Ensemble:

Harp Spatially separated from Main Orchestra

5Violins

Piccolo

Flutes

Oboes

2 3 2 3 Bassoons

Clarinets in B (1st optionally plays Clarinet in A, Movt. 1)

Tenor Saxophone in B

Baritone Saxophone in E

One or two players

Celesta 4 6 4 Tuba Trombones

Horns in F

Trumpets in C

Cornet in C (played by Trumpet 5)

Ether Organ (optional)

Quarter-tone Piano

Orchestra Piano (4 hands)

Organ

Xylophone (optional)

High & Low Bells — Two players

Timpani

Triangle

Indian Drum

Piccolo Timpano

Snare Drum

Bass Drum & Cymbals [likely rim-mounted]

Light & Heavy Gongs [Tam-tams] — One or two players

B.U. Ensemble:

Snare Drum

Indian Drum

Bass Drum & Cymbals

Chorus (SATB)

Solo Piano

Violin II

Viola

Violoncello

two players if Indian Drum player moves to B.U. in 4th Movt.

Spatially separated from Main Orchestra

4th Movement only; may employ corresponding

One player if separate player is used for Indian Drum in B.U.; players from other movements.

Gong [Tam-tam]

(6 Desks minimum, optional Desks 7–8)

(6 Desks minimum, optional Desk 7)

(5 Desks minimum, optional Desk 6)

Contrabass

Violin I (4 Desks minimum, optional Desk 5)

Extra Violin II (2 players; cued in Violin II Desk 6 part)

Extra Viola (1 player; cued in Viola Desk 6 part)

(6 Desks minimum, optional Desks 7–8–9) from Main Orchestra

Optionally spatially separated

DURATION: ca. 30 minutes

SYMPHONY NO. 4

(Performance Score realized and edited by Thomas M. Brodhead, revised edition, 2024)

I. Prelude

Charles E. Ives

CHOIR (angelic host): Maintain previous tempo; not synchronized with Main Orchestra.

Continue here in even time to pause before #6, repeating as indicated if necessary, and stop at m. 27

Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) To faciliate rehearsals, consecutive alphabet letters are provided at each measure of the D.C. here and in the corresponding parts through m.27 of the Main Orchestra.

Cb.

Vc. Va.

(or slower) a tempo A10 gradually a little slower and decresc. are dying away—not necessarily on the beat as notated) (Distant Choir plays only when vibrations of last piano chord very slowly than 2nd Violin) (top lighter

(scarcely to be heard, as in a great distance)

(ad lib.—if Celesta picks up this tune, then Piano eases out of it) (8va if light enough) (not if Piano plays C)

37 Trav ’ler see! Oh, see its (use low G only if there is a light Contralto with a good G) (partially hummed)

beau teous ray, its beau teous ray; See, see! which gradually die away after the Harp begins) as long as possible—with a little emphasis on the accents, (dies away in a half kind of humming, like a cloud,

Dost legato again thou see (or: Oh its div. dost beau thou teous, see beau its teous beau ray, teous, its beau beau teous teous ray?) ray, its beau teous ray? Oh, see! ad lib. Voices Dost legato again thou see its beau teous ray, see its beau teous ray? Oh, see!

Solo Piano l.h.

↑ ease out of this tune if Celesta plays r.h. lighter than E) (D and B l.h.

37 Vn. I tutti (or slower) a tempo sord. A10 legato which gradually die away, like the voices’ humming-tone) (strings almost bound together—just a little emphasis on the accents, gradually a little slower and decresc. (Strings die away and stop just after Harp is struck) very slowly

Vn. II sord. sord. div. unis.

scarcely to be heard) sord.

For example, if six singers, three hum from “see,” m. 38, (the men will take the arco one pizz.

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) words “Oh dost,” m. 37); three others sing the words, humming only at the end.

II. Comedy

Cb.

Measures

Contrabasses jump ahead to m. 51 and sustain tremolo when Upper Orchestra “collapses.” fall away

On downbeat of m. 51 (of Upper Orchestra), immediately cue

the Contrabasses (in Lower Orchestra) to jump ahead to their

m. 51, sustaining their tremolo until downbeat of next section.

Orch.) (No pause in

Basses start this with m. 51 of Upper Orchestra.

Basses jump to m. 51 and trem. arco, div. (Sustain tremolo until Lower Orchestra coincides.)

when Upper Orchestra “collapses.”

[The three “Groups” are designated to facilitate rehearsal. “Group” designations are indicated in the parts.]

(reaching about = 112–116 here)

* * The Viola parts have Cello rhythm cues + this footnote to show they are playing simple offbeats to the Cellos and Basses: * The parenthetical accidentals in the Solo Piano represent an alternate version.

two groups are designated to facilitate rehearsal. Instruments are marked either IN

Vn.

Extra Vn. II

Vn.

Cb.

coll’ Solo Violin

ten.

Vc.

coll’

Andante moderato (con moto) ( = about 92–96 )

Vn. II

Vn. I

Hn.

Contrabass

Violoncello

Viola

Violin II

Violin I

Pedal

Organ

Timpani

Trombone

F Horn

B Clarinet

Flute

Cb.

Cb. Vc.

Tbn.

F Hn.

Cb.

Vc.

(non

Vc.

Org. Timp.

Tbn.

B Cl. (ad lib.)

Cb.

Vc.

Very slowly—Largo maestoso First seven measures of may be played or not ad libitum

21"

OU = BU Crescendo and decrescendo wedges in Gong part apply to entire BU section. The tempos of OU and BU are proportionally related throughout the movement. See BU vs. OU: Tempos in Movement IV in the Survival Guide, p. xiii. A medium tam-tam should be used for this part. See the Gong entry in the Survival Guide, p. viii.

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) See Survival Guide p. xiii for clariﬁcation regarding opening measures and Alternate Snare Drum part.

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) Cb. Perhaps reduce B.U. dynamic (all such places are indicated in B.U. parts).

Boxed pitches marked “¼ ” are to be played one quarter-tone sharp. Perhaps reduce B.U. dynamic.

audible; just a distant wail)

(Basses with low C play 8va lower, ad lib.) subito

[At , Trumpet solo is loudest line in this passage—consider emphasizing.] OU = BU OU = BU Roman numerals in BU serve as coordination points here and at subsequent measures 35, 65, 79, and 85; see Survival Guide p. xiii. 10" (Basses with low C play 8va lower, ad lib.) subito

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score)

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) to project the theme above the Brass. overpowers the Piccolo, which is carrying the “Nearer My God to Thee” quotation. Either lower the 1st Flute by an octave, or om it all the partsexcept perhaps the Piccolo, which will help the Solo Piano but the result drowns out the Solo Piano, and the 1st Flute Ives only sketched the beginning of the Piccolo, Flutes, and Clarinets here, which double the Solo Piano. The previous edition realized the passage,

included in the parts).

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) These notes in the Solo Piano are assigned to the Quarter-tone Piano. Perhaps reduce B.U. dynamic. The Thrush calls in the Piccolo and Flutes may be reinforced with ﬂuttertongues on the last notes, here indicated editorially (and

lower octave may be omitted

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) in mm. 45–57. Tuning requirements are provided in the Harp part. if employed, the assistant could also play the optional d1+a1 dyads An assistant harpist would be required for this quarter-tone chord;

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) Second conductor optional but desirable through m. 63 for D.C. Violins, Flutes, Oboes, Clarinets, and Violins I & II.Each part in has ossia translation into (di ﬃ cult).

15" 4"

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score)

OU = BU See note on m. 32 re: Thrush calls and ﬂuttertongues. Notice that the D.C. Violins return to here. Perhaps reduce dynamic.

Oboes, Clarinets, and lower staff of High Bells match beat pattern of BU. Ossia of original notation provided in parts, but only usefulif players can see BU conductor.

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) OU = BU , i.e. BU = OU Desks playing Vn. III have mm. 65–88 boxed and labeled Violin III.

IVES: Symphony No. 4 (Performance Score) OU = BU See note on m. 32 re: Thrush calls and ﬂuttertongues. Perhaps reduce dynamic.

by Thomas M. Brodhead

Ives Society * Critical Edition * Performance Score Music autography and text typesetting by:

Charles E. Ives: Symphony No. 4

Charles

Thomas M. Brodhead

Ives SYMPHONY NO. 4

Charles E. Ives Symphony No. 4

CONTENTS

N OTES ON THE R EVISED E DITION , 2024

PREFACE

S URVIVAL G UIDE

Number of Conductors

Distant Choir (D.C.)

Harp Part in the D.C.

String Division

Violin Distribution in Movement IV

The Extra Violin II and Extra Viola Parts

Gongs

Indian Drum

Quarter-tone Piano

Optional Harp in Comedy

Quarter-tone Notation

Alternative Notations

Dynamics

Dynamic Swell in the BU

Thrush Calls: Movement IV

29

Solo Piano and Celesta Interaction at End of Prelude

Quarter-tone Piano Drop-out

Where Does the “Collapse” Occur?

Where Do the Train Wheels Come to Rest?

Measure Numbers and Rehearsal Numbers

Text Instructions in the Parts

Final Thoughts

PART PAGES T HAT

M AY R EQUIRE E XPLANATION

A LTERNATIVE N OTATIONS IN THE PARTS

“CONSULT CONDUCTOR” QUESTIONS IN THE PARTS

Movements I, II, IV

I

II

Movement IV

THE PROGRAM OF MOVEMENT II: THE CELESTIAL RAILROAD

BELLAMANN’S PROGRAM NOTE TO THE 1927 PREMIERE OF THE PRELUDE AND COMEDY MOVEMENTS

IVES’S CONDUCTOR’S NOTE TO MOVEMENT II

THE MEANING OF IVES’S CONDUCTOR’S NOTE ESSAY

OU COORDINATION WITH BU IN FINALE, MM. 65–70

I NTERPRETIVE AND R EHEARSAL A GOGICS

Prelude

Comedy

Finale

W HERE A SSISTANT C ONDUCTORS M IGHT B E E MPLOYED

Movement I

Movement II

Movement IV

How Many Assistant Conductors Are Required?

C HECKLIST FOR THE O RCHESTRA L IBRARIAN

INSTRUMENTATION REQUIREMENTS FOR REHEARSALS

SYMPHONY NO. 4

I. Prelude

II. Comedy