This is a break from the standard pattern for the American Classics 
                line. Unlike the Copland, Gershwin, Bernstein and Barber issues 
                this one scoops up rarities. It is not a ‘Best of’ compilation 
                although what is here is far from inferior. The source is the 
                contents of one CD and one LP.  
              
The songs for piano 
                  and voice are a magnificent restoration to the Ives discography. 
                  Marni Nixon has an unaffected and non-operatic sound which well 
                  fits the range of Ives’ songs. John McCabe is in complete sympathy 
                  with the idiom as you would expect. These songs go from the 
                  musingly thoughtful Englishry of West London to the primitive 
                  tin tabernacle of At the River. Nixon is also well in 
                  touch with the childlike tone of The Greatest Man but 
                  also springs forward for the knowing atonal hysteria of The 
                  Cage, Farewell to Land, Soliloquy, Ann 
                  Street, From 'The Swimmers' and the quirky collisions 
                  of General William Booth Enters into Heaven. Charles 
                  Rutlage is done in cowpuncher ingenuous character with a 
                  touch of sampler-sentimental. Even then there is some stunning 
                  atonality at the end. Side Show has an Irish McCormack 
                  lilt. What an extraordinary artist we hear in Marni Nixon. There 
                  really should be an Edition of her recordings. For now grab 
                  this disc if you enjoy the work of true originals in sound. 
                
Speaking of which 
                  we then hear Set No. 1 which is in six movements veering 
                  between Weill, Schoenberg, Satie and Webern. Both Sea and 
                  Mists are gentle poetic inspirations. Compare these with 
                  the acid harshness of the volcanic discordant piano of On 
                  the Antipodes (piano and baritone) – an ultima thule 
                  of conflict, moving from panzer assault to sentimental fluff 
                  and back to blitzkrieg in a scintillating instant. Tone Roads 
                  No. 1 is raspily dissonant and propulsive but the last movement, 
                  with its wandering tonality, trumpet cantabile and murmuring 
                  piano line, is simply magical. From the Steeples and Mountains 
                  sounds at first like a soft exercise in bells and nostalgia 
                  but raw Old Testament fanfares disrupt and scorch the music. 
                  Tone Roads No.3 starts like From the Steeples 
                  with a bell tolling and continues with the discordant chatter 
                  of the woodwind. These are almost shocking in their originality. 
                  The Rainbow and the rocking Pond take us back 
                  to the poetry of Mists and the Sea - not without 
                  atonality but light as down and impressionistic as the short 
                  atonal pieces by Fartein Valen. The Bells of Yale includes 
                  a humming chorus and Henry Herford who sings the school song; 
                  disconcerting yet heartfelt stuff. Be perplexed but let yourself 
                  enjoy this. The Gong on the Hook and Ladder is a gaunt 
                  dissonant parade of cadavers - at least that's the way it sounds 
                  to me. More peaceful yet just as dissonant and with an imperious 
                  trumpet solo and a chaos of bells is All The Way Around and 
                  Back. Over the Pavements anticipates the more acrid 
                  harmonies of Weill with a wind ensemble and a jazzy piano skipping 
                  and capering. Set No. 2 is in two movements, the first 
                  of which is a Largo - The Indians with fanfares and thoughtful 
                  figures seemingly anticipating or possibly borrowing from Stravinsky's 
                  Le Sacre. The second is Gyp the Blood which sounds 
                  like some ghastly tub-thumping rally - music in which excoriating 
                  satire is as evident as in a Grosz caricature. Aeschylus 
                  and Sophocles is dissonant but not raucous. An ensemble 
                  of pointillist strings moves steadily with a piano threading 
                  its way through and is then joined by Herford who cuts an heroic 
                  figure through the hurly-burly. The listener is then left in 
                  a dank peaceful place to meditate on the stuff of philosophical 
                  desolation. The final Set for Theater or Chamber Orchestra 
                  is in three movements. The last of these is another mood 
                  impression In the light which sways in gently shifting 
                  textures and harmonies. The strings breathe a gentle air while 
                  the horns colour the clouds. So ends this sequence of short 
                  epigrammatic and often discordant yet magically suggestive pieces. 
                  Hearing this fascinating and succinctly expressed music makes 
                  me even more keen that EMI should track down those Ruggles tapes 
                  from CBS-Sony-BMG and issue them in this series. 
                
This disc is evidence 
                  of a true original in sound and the originality is unclouded 
                  and yet more enthralling in these smaller formats. 
                
The disc also breaks 
                  with the series tradition by printing all the sung and referenced 
                  words.
                
This is to me a surprise 
                  winner and one in which Ives emerges as a master of dissonance 
                  and a magician of mood, evocation and suggestion.
                  
                  Rob Barnett