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"Charles Ives Reconsidered" Review: Towards A More Humane Scholarship
"Charles Ives Reconsidered" Review: Towards A More Humane Scholarship
Dr. Veltman
MUS 423
Book Review
Charles Edward Ives is one of the foremost composers in American history. He was born
and lived most of his life in New England, where he studied at the prestigious Yale. Ives
developed a style that many consider to have been far ahead of its time and anticipated some of
the biggest innovations in 20th century music such as the use of polytonality, polyrhythms, and
microtonal intervals. He anchored himself to his homeland as well, never studying in Europe and
titling many of his pieces with explicit references to places like Central Park and Concord,
music and composition led generations after him to hold him up as a uniquely American
innovator. If any American composer could be granted legendary status, Charles Ives would be a
top contender.
And this is exactly the issue examined in Dr. Gayle Sherwood Magee’s Charles Ives
Reconsidered. Legends tend to be smoothed out and simplified for ease of transmission and
potency of message. Facts and details that do not fit nicely into the monochromatic picture often
painted by history are downplayed or even ignored altogether. This can be especially
troublesome when the legend in question involves an influential artist. Magee claims that such a
disingenuous image of Charles Ives has become popularized to the point of being considered
truth. To combat the myth that has spread throughout academia, Magee carefully constructs in
Charles Ives Reconsidered a wholistic and detailed narrative of Ives’ life that strives to remain
true to life.
Dr. Magee is quite an appropriate author for such a book. Her rich career in musical
scholarship had been going strong for over a decade at the publishing of Charles Ives
Reconsidered. She earned her PhD in Music from none other than Yale University, Ives’ alma
mater, in 1995, and now serves as Professor and Chair of Musicology at the University of
Illinois. Much of her work has been in the realm of American music since the late nineteenth
century and on issues of gender in music history. The former is obviously relevant to the book at
hand, while the latter shows itself in Magee’s discussions of Ives’ aptly named wife Harmony at
various points. Notably, she is also the author of Charles Ives: A Research and Information
Guide, which, although published two years prior to Charles Ives Reconsidered, demonstrates a
concern for the composer’s history in a purely academic context. For Reconsidered, Magee
blends the two worlds of scholarship and storytelling. She had backing for the endeavor as well:
Charles Ives Reconsidered was funded by a Summer Fellowship Grant from the National
Endowment for the Humanities, a signal that Magee’s intellectual faculties are widely
recognized.
The NEH made a wise monetary decision. Magee provides a gentle and thoughtful
antidote to the plague of sloppy storytelling that has marked the legend of Ives. She delivers a
thorough, sincere depiction of the fascinating life of one of America’s foremost composers. It is
also a work that refuses to dishonor his legacy by removing the contradictions. She proves the
compelling portrait of a complicated man in all his brilliance. Far from a takedown piece or one-
sided attack on the credibility of Ives, this effort shows a much more potent and truthful respect
for the composer by fighting back against oversimplifications that water down the important
intricacies of his story. In Charles Ives Reconsidered, Magee powerfully asserts that the widely-
To accomplish this, she centers in on a multi-faceted target. According to Dr. Magee, the
prevailing historical narrative of Charles Ives’ life has been neatly trimmed to follow a
attractive” to many, especially those who take it upon themselves to defend modern American
music (Magee 3). The author’s mission is to offer a more holistic alternative to the
oversimplified, inspiring tale which has allured many. She claims that this so-called “Ives
Legend” is built upon multiple demonstrably false assumptions and neglectful oversights. In the
book, Magee builds on previous research conducted alongside a colleague into the true
timeframes of some often misdated Ives compositions to provide a well-informed picture of the
“this book can be seen as a reconsideration of the foundation of Ives scholarship which
contemporaries, isolation, and American identity above all else. In conjunction with
rethinking the dates, this book focuses on redefining Ives’s relationship to his American
origins, particularly the malleable meaning of his Euro-American education, from his
earliest works through evaluations of his music through the end of the twentieth century.”
(5)
This is the most concise thesis statement given in the book. Perhaps unsurprisingly, as
Magee argues for nuance and a broadening of the lens with which we see Charles Ives, her
argumentation becomes multi-layered and difficult to pin down. The level of complexity shown
to be so important in Ives’ life is unavoidably mirrored in the author’s descriptions of it. In spite
of this, the book does not feel scattered or unstructured. Rather, the thread which ties all
seemingly incongruous elements together is the chronologically presented biography of Ives that
carries the book along. It is helpful to view the book as a biography with a point to make. The
driving principle of the book is to pick apart the problematic “Ives Legend” and inject it with
some truth. Magee carefully and impressively weaves an insightful timeline for Ives, referring
back to this driving principle when she enters into an area of particular relevance or controversy.
What we are left with is a much more complicated but satisfying way to think about the life of a
complicated man. A few of the most important arguments and themes used to deconstruct the
legend are Ives’ lifelong struggle to reconcile his father’s influence with that of his Yale
professor, the amount of energy put in to publishing his own works, and the benefits of his ever-
The first major thread encountered in the book is the huge importance of George Ives,
Charles’ father. Chronologically ordered as it is, the book begins before the birth of Charles with
a description and analysis of his father. Immediately, Magee asserts her revisionist scholarship to
sharpen up once blurry lines. As pointed out multiple times, Charles’ father has been historically
remembered as a daring musical visionary who at once possessed an expert knowledge of the
European tradition and fought back at it with forward-thinking compositions. All of this
knowledge was thought to have been imparted to the young Charles who, of course, was a
prodigy.
Not so, says Magee. In reality George was a modest professor and bandleader. He had a
notably communal philosophy of music that led him to be much more interested in the informal
qualities of music than the formal. While he showed a definite interest in experimenting with
sound in ways far ahead of his time, George did not have much more than a rudimentary and
secondhand grasp of theory. Magee pieces together from newspaper excerpts and recorded
stories a charming profile of a music lover who would make his band stand on opposite sides of a
park because he liked the clashing sounds. His formal music education was probably limited to
completing part-writing exercises out of a textbook, but this did not seem to inhibit his activity.
The inclusion of details such as his wife’s “acceptance of George’s unassuming ambitions”
leading to their “cheerful marriage” adds to Magee’s correction of history, displaying George
Ives as the genuine, passionate man he was (11). Charles may not have had a scholarly
Dr. Magee gives a similarly thorough biographical section to the significant character of
Horatio Parker, Ives’ composition teacher. Parker was the recently appointed Chair of Music at
Yale upon Charles’ arrival to the university and had created a dense curriculum for new students.
Herself a graduate of the same department of this university, Magee’s research feels especially
thorough and lively in this section. She includes rich details from Parker’s aspiration and
struggle as a composer all the way to a summary of his weekly schedule. The level of
personability here, as in descriptions of George, seem purposeful on the part of Magee to firstly
display academic prowess and secondly (perhaps more importantly) ensure that readers are not
simply encountering faceless characters in the narrative of Charles’ life but storied persons with
The rest of the book returns again and again to the impact these two most important
musical influences had on Ives. As previously pointed out, the received wisdom is that Parker
was almost below Ives as a musician and had little to offer him and that the heartfelt folk
influence of his father’s music was never challenged by the cold European tendencies thrown at
him by the Yale professor. This is simply not true. Magee shows that there existed a great
tension from “Ives’s need to pit Parker against George”, strongly arguing that Ives thought of
them as opposing forces in his musical consciousness. It is also pointed out that “despite their
considerable differences, Horatio and George had much in common” (55). This further suggests
that Ives overlooked the ways these two worlds overlapped and preferred the competitive view
It is later shown how Charles went back and forth between linking himself to Parker and
denying any meaningful connection depending on the situation. For example, when advertising
his own Concord Sonata, it behooved the composer to identify himself as a former student of
Parker’s at the esteemed Yale (148). Later on in his life when compiling his Memos with Henry
Cowell, Ives heavily emphasized the genius and impact of his father while downplaying and
outright ignoring Parker’s impact. At one point, he recounts a time when he received negative
feedback on a composition from the professor and tells of going to his father for wisdom. Ives
writes that his father supplied a quotable folksy adage which pushed back against the stuck-up
academic. The only problem is, as the author here points out, George Ives passed away three
years before this incident reportedly took place (54). Magee does not present Ives in all his
flakiness and shifting loyalties to expose or shame him. Rather, the contradictory and sometimes
dishonest behavior highlighted here serves to enrich the portrait of a man who struggled with
discussions of how much and how often Charles Ives worked to publish, advertise, and put on
performances of his own pieces and indeed how successful he was. The popular narrative was
that Ives was something of a quiet genius who kept his work to himself until it gained attention
on the sheer merit of how good it was. John Kirkpatrick, himself responsible for much of the
“Ives Legend”, remarked that “for nearly half a century he has been experimenting with musical
sounds, and writing them down on paper, working quietly and obscurely (as revolutionary spirits
in the regions of the mind so often work), known only to a few inquisitive students and
observers” (168). These sentiments are still common, even a glance at Ives’ Wikipedia page
reveals claims that his works “w[ere] largely ignored during his life”.
While he was not the most widely celebrated or popular composer until the end of his life
and posthumously, Ives was no outsider to the musical landscapes of the day. He himself made
sure of it. Magee points out through narratives of both musicians and observers that Ives
regularly invited and hired talent to read through or perform his compositions. Later on, when
these attempts proved mostly unfruitful, he took another route and paid to self-publish his
Concord Sonata with its accompanying essays and then personally worked to distribute it to
anyone and everyone who may have been interested. A later commentator is quoted who
observed after the composer’s death that Ives “has literally lived with no performances of any
sort for almost all of his life, in utter loneliness” (138). Magee points out that while this has some
truth to it, Ives worked more or less for all his life to get his music into the ears of people who
would want to hear it. She also includes mention of his winning a Pulitzer Prize for his Third
Symphony and a successful performance of Three Places In New England for his colleagues in
insurance.
Simultaneously identifying Ives as someone who deeply wanted to have his works
performed more than they were and who worked to accomplish this but only moderate success in
his life will generate pathos with any audience. The image of a promising composer forced to
make a living with a backup plan in spite of his efforts is at the least pitiable to most. Add on to
this the details Magee includes about Ives’ reputation for generosity with younger composers and
an appealing character takes shape. Charles used his own funds to support promising peers such
as Henry Cowell quite often. It seems an act of humble servitude that testifies to his genuine
nature. Once again, then, Magee does not accuse Ives of musical treachery and offer him up to be
condemned, but makes note of the more human elements of struggle present in Ives’ career to
reveal a passionate man who cared deeply about music and wanted desperately to be a valuable
contributor.
Another more unbecoming thread of Ives’ career which Dr. Magee makes sure to
acknowledge frequently is the fact that he often benefitted from positions of privilege.
Discussions in the book of a certain era or event from the composer’s life are interspersed with
examinations of cultural and historical context. The author demonstrates a desire to present her
subject holistically by including information about not only what Ives did, but what allowed him
to do it and how it was done. Examples of this can be found in the many places in which Magee
describes Ives taking time away from work and financing his own music. In 1918, Ives suffered a
breakdown historically remembered as a heart attack, but Magee makes the case that it was
probably a violent resurgence of his cardio neurasthenia. Two chapters before, she described
how this condition was seen as “a badge of honor among the higher classes” (83) due to the
abundance of prominent, educated men who were diagnosed with it. After the interruption by
this “distinguished malady” (84), Ives and his wife took an eight-week leave to the mountains for
a “rest cure” during which he finished his Concord Sonata. Upon returning, he took another six
months off from his work to pay for a private printing of his newly accomplished work. He
would later pay for a larger printing and for distribution. Underlying all of this is the message
that Ives’ abundant financial security made it possible for him to take the time he needed for
music.
One of the most obvious examples of privilege and position in Ives’ life was his
prestigious education at Yale. Although the revised portrait of his father would make it appear
that Charles did not come from an affluent family, Magee observes that his uncle and brother
were also Yale alumni, and that the Ives family had planned for Charles to attend even before the
An alumnus of the school herself, Magee takes an honest and critical approach to the
culture in which Ives thrived during his college years. When writing about his discovery of and
interest in ragtime music, the author links his experience with this style to “what was then the
foundation of American popular music: the fascination with and imitation of African-American
culture” (57). Magee notes that Ives “excitement” over the African-American styles being
appropriated around him was typical of a white Ivy League student from an influential family
(excepting his father). She goes on to say that blackface performances of this style would have
been a part of the musical entertainment in Ives’ fraternity at Yale to which he contributed
music. About this fraternity and the other secret society with which Ives was associated, Magee
says, “If Yale itself was a bastion of white male privilege, DKE and Wolf’s Head… formed part
of the core of that privilege” (58). All of these descriptions and more amount to an image of a
very comfortable Ives in an institution which provided ample opportunities and easy access to
Perhaps the most troubling instance of Ives’ privilege in action comes when Magee
examines Charles and Harmony’s adoption of a little girl. The Iveses spent their third summer in
a row staying at their own property in Redding during 1915 and had a poorer family, the
Osbornes, staying with them as part of a program which gave urban poor the chance to have their
own “rest cure”. During their time together, Harmony Ives grew particularly attached to the
youngest Osborne, a toddler named Edith, and eventually she and Charles arranged to adopt the
child from the Osbornes. At this point that Magee grimly observes, “There is no evidence that
Edith ever saw her birth family again” (121). Members of the Ives’ family maintained that Edith
was a sickly, even handicapped child and that this impediment was main reason for her adoption
by Harmony the nurse. Magee scrutinizes these claims and offers an alternative perspective.
Edith’s childhood friend never mentions any pervasive illness in her descriptions of the girl. In
fact, no one outside of the family ever did. Edith was eventually married and had children of her
own and by all accounts lived a perfectly normal and fulfilling life.
Magee goes on to point out that if the girl had indeed been somewhat ill in some way and
that illness was the incentive for the Ives’ adoption, the child’s eventual good health would
invalidate that reason. Furthermore, she says they also “might have taken other, less intrusive or
drastic steps to aid both Edith and her family” such as a visiting nurse to help the other Osborne
children and their “certainly overworked” mother (122). The author argues against various
similar motivations before positing another: the Ives simply wanted desperately to raise a child
and found a convenient way to adopt one. Magee explains, “Edith’s rescue from illness and
poverty hid the Iveses’ very personal motivations”. She supports this with the evidence of Ives’
personal secretary testifying to Charles being bothered for and eventually giving money to the
Overall, Magee’s effort is incredibly well-researched and mostly airtight. Her deep
knowledge of each aspect of the goings-on around Charles Ives is displayed time and time again
throughout the book as she expertly hypothesizes about unknowns. She goes about demystifying
ambiguous situations with a fair and level-headed treatment of every concern that might show
itself. A pristine example of this is found in her breakdown of Elliot Carter’s eyewitness account
of Ives’ altering and updating a previously composed work (159). After eliminating any
suspicion that Carter may have been misremembering the event or fabricating it altogether,
Magee carefully lays out an impressive consideration of possible motives. She takes the readers
through a detailed account of why the revision probably took place, showing how Elliot can be
correct in his observation while Ives can have pure motivations for his editing by shifting the
However, there are two minor potential weak spots in the argumentative armor. These are
not critical to the central purpose of the book and therefore do not detract from the total
effectiveness of Magee’s remarkable work. Rather, they are simply inevitable failures to reach
spotless academic perfection, and these shortcomings themselves mirror the book’s emphasis on
human inconsistencies. The two that stand out most obviously are first of all Magee’s sometimes
stretched and inaccurate interpretation of hymn texts in Ives’ works and secondly her unfortunate
Firstly, her breakdown of hymn texts. On page ninety-eight when Magee is analyzing
Charles’ quotation of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”, she states “Despite its optimistic tune
and title, ‘What a Friend’ deals with the bearing of ‘sins and griefs’”. In the context of the
passage, she gentle argues that the idea of bearing sins and griefs is at odds with an “optimistic
tune”. For the Christian singing this hymn, however, that is not the case. The stanza in question
reads, “What a friend we have in Jesus/ All our sins and griefs to bear/ What a privilege to carry/
Everything to God in prayer”. At first glance, the mention of “sins and griefs” seems
incompatible with an “optimistic” mood, but the text is actually speaking quite cheerily of the
way that the friend Jesus has taken those sins and griefs. Singing of their absence in fact
On the next page Magee also makes brief mention of a stanza from “There is a Happy
Land”. She makes the claim that the hymn’s “‘far, far away’ land invokes the past” (99). This
claim is made in support of her drawing links from the material Ives quotes in a passage of his
Third Symphony to his recalling the simpler, happier days of the past. While that connection
certainly holds up, the example provided is off-base. The entire stanza reads, “There is a happy
land, far, far away/ Where saints in glory stand, bright, bright as day./ Oh, how they sweetly sing,
worthy is our Savior King,/ Loud let His praises ring, praise, praise for aye.” The “happy land”
in question seems quite clearly to be describing the Christian idea of heaven, often associated
with a gathering of bright saints and ongoing praise. Therefore, to a congregant singing these
words in a church service, these words most likely do not evoke the past at all, but the present
Now, these may be overlooked as inconsequential asides about text from a religious
tradition of which Magee herself does not seem to be a part. They are most likely the result of a
secular analysis of a sacred text. In fact, the argument could be made that Magee’s
interpretations are perfectly valid considering Ives, though he worked as a church organist and
occasionally attended church with his wife, was apparently not a devotee of any branch of faith.
Therefore the man himself may have had similar applications of the text in mind. The author’s
Throughout the end of the book, Cowell is portrayed in what is a best a neutral light. The
best thing Magee attributes to the younger composer is his part in establishing Ives as a relevant
modernist American composer, and this fact is negatively associated with ethnocentricity and
“pro-American, anti-immigration, and anti-European tropes” (156). On pages 164 and 165, as
well as elsewhere, Magee very nearly attributes all of the dishonest revisions of Charles’
influential Memos to Cowell’s impact on the man. She rarely examines a negative trait of Ives’,
including passages of explicit misogyny, without mentioning that it can be seen as an “echo” of
Cowell’s views or practices. This makes it seem as if Cowell was the toxic well from which Ives
drew his negative actions and if one is not careful could begin to absolve Ives of full
Lastly, the matter of Henry Cowell’s arrest is not given the same level of nuance and
attention to detail as many other events in the book. When Magee writes of Cowell being
convicted, serving his sentence, records Ives’ reaction, and speculates that he may have been
reluctant to become closer with John Kirkpatrick after being betrayed by Cowell, the momentum
of the narrative feels very much like the problematic Cowell finally got what he deserved while
Ives was heartbroken by his wicked friend. The details of the arrest are limited to the biting
conclusion that he “plead(ed) guilty to charges of child molestation” (165). In reality, even a
brief search for the facts of this arrest provide a more complicated picture than Magee paints.
True, Cowell did have a sexual relationship with an underage male, but the young man was just
under the legal threshold at 17 years of age and by all accounts it was quite a consensual tryst.
The affair was only brought to light because Cowell’s partner demanded money to keep it a
secret and the composer refused. As Michael Hicks lays out in an article titled “The
Imprisonment of Henry Cowell”, the boy was equally responsible for the relationship as the
young composer and only escaped a charge because of his age. Additionally, much of the
sentence hinged on an antiquated law which made a certain private sex act punishable by jail
time. Cowell even saw his bail raised by the judge upon completely misled fears that the
composer might try to commit suicide were he freed (Hicks, 95-97). Of course, this does not
excuse or justify any of what Cowell did, but Magee’s summary of “pleading guilty to child
molestation” hastily leaves a much more extreme and grievous image in the mind of the reader
remarkable and important work of accessible scholarship. The fact that “this study is the first
full-length consideration of Ives’ life and works using the completed new chronology, and offers
a new perspective” is no insignificant feat, especially considering Magee herself helped complete
the chronology in question. The author is overall successful in her attempt at bringing together
the most honest research and evidence to hold up a more accurate representation of this
important figure of American musical history. The vast scope of this effort is executed with an
expert control and careful treatment of material. Magee sets herself and this book apart by a
refusal to oversimplify the complicated and messy aspects of real life. She offers correction on
the fronts of both Ives and his colleagues alteration and those of academia history itself with a
general concern for the authenticity of Ives’ story. Indeed, all of the ugly details brought in do
not constitute a takedown of the composer, but show a respect and admiration that desires him to
be remembered in all his occasionally flawed glory. Magee ultimately testifies to the brilliance of
the man by letting his timeless and inspiring music remain exactly that in spite of, or perhaps
Hicks, Michael. “The Imprisonment of Henry Cowell.” Journal of the American Musicological
Society, vol. 44, no. 1, [University of California Press, American Musicological Society],
Magee, Gayle Sherwood. Charles Ives Reconsidered. University of Illinois Press, 2008.