At its annual Spring Festival last March, Boston’s New England Conservatory turned the spotlight on “Charles Ives and His World.” Under the direction of composer, flutist, and historian John Heiss, the festival presented concerts featuring Ives works from all genres. With financial support from the Charles Ives Society, the festival also offered numerous seminars, panels and master classes with renowned Ives scholars and performers. These events included a master class dedicated to the songs of Ives, featuring soprano Helen Boatwright and baritone William Sharp.
Mr. Heiss, one of NEC’s most dedicated and inspiring faculty members and a Charles Ives expert, introduced me to the songs of Ives last year—and I was hooked immediately. I had heard some of Ives’ orchestral works and sung one of his choral pieces in the past, but his songs, I found, are a much neglected treasure.
I was eager to delve into this material again, and was particularly tantalized by the festival master class with Mr. Sharp and Ms. Boatwright. When the assignments were given out for festival week, however, I was told that because I had previously coached and performed Ives with Mr. Heiss, other singers would be given first crack at this opportunity. Well, if I couldn’t perform in the Sharp/Boatwright master class, I could still attend, and that’s what I planned to do. When a friend who had been selected had to drop out, however, I eagerly took his place.
Choosing which repertoire to sing for the class required some deliberation. I already knew seven Ives songs and because the masterclass was fast approaching, I thought it best to select from those. I picked one of my favorites, “Tom Sails Away,” and one of the newer songs I had been working on, “Walking,” as appropriately contrasting works. Ives composed both songs relatively early in his career and wrote both in a lyrical style, but they are vastly different.
After some pre-festival coaching of the songs with Mr. Heiss and Irma Vallecillo (chair of NEC’s Collaborative Piano Department and one of the pianists on Albany Records’ four-volume, complete set of Ives songs), I felt more than prepared for the class.
I knew William Sharp’s singing from several recordings I own and love, and knew of Helen Boatwright from the first recording of Ives songs I had ever heard. To say that the prospect of singing for these two artists was intimidating would be an understatement. Besides having won the 1987 Carnegie Hall International American Music Competition, Mr. Sharp was one of four singers to record the complete songs of Charles Ives on the above-mentioned Library of Congress/Albany Records set. Ms. Boatwright was among the first performers ever to record Ives’s songs, which she did in partnership with pianist John Kirkpatrick, who was a friend and early advocate of the composer.
Sitting through the performances that precede your own in a masterclass is always difficult. But it’s a necessary discomfort, if one is to get the most out of the master artists. In this class, I learned very quickly that there is more than one way to perform Ives. Ms. Boatwright and Mr. Sharp themselves did not always agree on some interpretive points, and they sometimes disagreed with scholars in the audience.
The songs performed, including “The World’s Highway,” “In the Morning,” “Serenity,” and “Sunrise,” demonstrated Ives’ wide range of styles and influences. Ms. Boatwright had strong views about the type of sound that should be used when singing Ives.
“Not too operatic,” she told the soprano singing “The World’s Highway.” Similarly, she cautioned another singer to project a more authentic style in “In the Morning.” That piece should evoke an African-American soprano in a Southern church singing a spiritual. It shouldn’t be too pretty or too perfect, she said.
When it was my turn, I began with “Tom Sails Away.” Though seemingly simple to the listener, the song presents great difficulties in coordinating the voice and piano. Mr. Sharp pointed out to me that there is no consistent meter through much of the song, so knowing the notes and rhythms is simply not enough. He suggested that I might be depending on the pianist to follow me, instead of our proceeding together. I had to admit that I was guilty of this in spots.
Ms. Boatwright encouraged me to find a more childlike quality of sound. She felt I was almost “too knowing” in my interpretation. Mr. Sharp also worked with me in creating more contrast between the sections. The piece is only about two minutes long, but it is like a montage of memories, and the sections need to be differentiated.
Articulation markings in Ives are always a point of contention with interpreters and scholars, and this proved to be the case once again in the master class. “Tom Sails Away” contains a repeated phrase that appears first at the beginning and again at the end—but the rhythm in the two phrases is different. Was this inconsistency deliberate, or an oversight?
Mr. Sharp contended that Ives meant the rhythms to be the same. Some of the scholars in the audience disagreed, however. They all started chiming into the discussion, particularly Mr. Heiss, who insisted that the different rhythms were intentional. Ives must have had a reason to make them different, he said.
Although such a free-for-all is quite unusual in a masterclass setting (where the master talks and the audience and performers listen), this was quite enlightening. True, no agreement was reached, but the invaluable conclusion to be drawn was that performers have to ask the unanswered questions, particularly with a composer such as Ives. Ultimately, in the absence of clear direction we have to make our own informed decisions. It’s the only way to respect the composer’s wishes.
