As I’ve mentioned elsewhere on the boards, I’m stuck in Chicago for the next few weeks on a family matter. Over the past months when I’ve had to be here, I’ve kept the radio tuned to WFMT, the classical station, which has kept me entertained in a fine fashion, playing lots of the more obscure music that I love, and FAR fewer warhorses than New York classical stations play.
This weekend they’re playing American composers ONLY, as a tribute to the Glorious Fourth. Well, fine, I can see that. Of course, you can imagine what I’m getting to listen to.
I’ve probably heard “Rhapsody in Blue” six times, and “An American in Paris” four. Barber’s “Adagio for Strings,” a dozen. Enough Louis Marie Gottschalk and Edward MacDowall to make me fully understand why they are considered “minor composers.” John Phillip Sousa, God help me. Charles Tomlinson Griffes…well okay, I like Griffes a lot. But in SMALL DOSES. Ditto Leonard Bernstein. A smattering of Riegger, Piston, Diamond, Sessions. Virgil Thomson, shoot me now.
No Charles Ives! No Gerorge Antheil! No Elliott Carter! Can’t spook the ears of the Midwestern burghers!
And certainly WAY MORE Aaron Copland than I ever hoped to hear. This, I think, is killing me more than anything else. AARON COPLAND IS RECOGNIZABLE WITHIN SIX BARS OF ANYTHING HE EVER WROTE, because EVERYTHING AARON COPLAND WROTE SOUNDS EXACTLY ALIKE.
Aaron Copland is also considered the God of 20th century American music, because of his hard work getting people to respect it. He started Tanglewood or some damn thing. So the Academy LOVES him. And the Common Man loves him, because his shit is very accessible. No scary atonal stuff. Not too many drums. No slithery rhythms.
I have never owned a recording of an Aaron Copland piece except for “Appalachian Spring,” which is the one Aaron Copland piece you should have, 'cause it’s pretty good, and everything else he wrote sounds exactly like it.