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BOOK
REVIEW
THE GREAT AMERICAN SYMPHONY:
Music, the Depression, and War.
By Nicholas Tawa. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press,
2009. 237pp. $24.95.
Nicholas Tawa is a veteran musicologist—one of the founders
of the Society for American Music (formerly known as the Sonneck Society)
and the author of countless books on various aspects of American music.
He has focused on art music as well as more vernacular styles, has written
about all periods, and is especially interested in examining the social
and political context in which the music under discussion has arisen,
and its relationship to that context.
At its conceptual core, Tawa’s latest book focuses on the period roughly
from 1935 to 1950, when a combination of factors—the failure of the
experimental music of the 1920s to win popular support, the Great Depression
and the consequent shock to America’s self-esteem, and, later, the challenge
to mobilize the country to defeat tyranny overseas—resulted in a consolidated
effort by composers to create a symphonic repertoire of the highest
quality that would embody and extol the shared values of America in
a language that the general public could and would appreciate; in a
sense, to “speak for” the American public, while providing a “bulwark
against barbarism.” As additional factors that contributed to this brief
period, Tawa cites the advocacy by major conductors of the living composers
they favored; FDR’s “Federal Music Project,” which led composers to
feel needed and appreciated by the society in which they lived; and
the resident orchestras formed by the major radio networks that broadcast
much of this new American music. After elaborating these factors, Tawa
then discusses the symphonic works that attempted—often successfully—to
achieve the goal of “speaking for” the American public, and even contributed
to the incipient development of a national musical language. He identifies
each composer according to a particular descriptive rubric (e.g. Hanson
and “the Spiritual Symphony,” Harris and “the All-American Symphony,”
Schuman and “the Muscular Symphony,” Mennin and “the Dynamic Symphony,”
etc.). For example, he considers Barber’s Symphony No. 1 (1936) to be
the first work to embody these ideals successfully, while viewing Hanson’s
Third (1938) as a statement on behalf of courage and perseverance during
hard times, leaving listeners with a sense of “lofty concepts and exalted
thought.” He notes the immense if brief popularity of Harris’s Third
(1939), which many believed at the time to be “the great American symphony.”
After concluding his discussion of the important symphonies of the 1930s,
he goes on similarly to discuss the “war symphonies,” noting that while
some composers became creatively paralyzed by the war, others felt it
was their civic duty to continue to compose, producing works that promoted
the spirit of democracy, without obvious literalism or jingoism. He
cites American symphonies by Antheil, Diamond, Piston, and Barber (No.
2) as sources of national pride and courage during those years. A discussion
of the symphonies of the immediate post-war years follows—works that
reaffirmed American values, while inspiring trust in the future. But
this was also the beginning of the “Cold War,” and with it the “red
scare” of the McCarthy period. During the Depression and the war years,
many of the composers who had shaped the American symphony into a source
of national cohesion, did so from a sense of solidarity with “the common
man.” Many of them felt a kindred affiliation with the Soviet Union,
which had been one of the Allies during World War II, believing (erroneously
and somewhat naively) that their sympathies were shared and supported
by the Soviet government. But now the Soviet Union was our enemy, and
those who had expressed sympathy for communist ideals in the past, were
regarded as traitors. Even the composer of A Lincoln Portrait, Appalachian
Spring, and Rodeo was blacklisted. Tawa attributes the end of this Golden
Age of the American symphony to the politically-based schism within
American society, along with the post-World War II suspicion that feelings
of nationalism were precursors of fascism. Roger Sessions, vehemently
opposed to populism, nationalism, and fascism, pointed the way toward
a new “internationalism.” In this he was joined by the many composers
who immigrated to this country in the wake of the war, and who knew
and cared little about an “American symphonic school,” supporting the
notion of an “international style.” Tawa quotes Paul Turok, who pointed
out, “European artists are for internationalism, so long as they come
out on top.”
This central argument is filled out by additional relevant information
about each composer, as well as a more cursory examination of what happened
to American symphonic music after 1950, leading roughly up to the present,
when Tawa sees a renewed interest in the symphony afoot. Although he
does discuss the continuing symphonic vein in American music after 1950,
Tawa might have stressed the irony that although the American public
was most intensely drawn to the search for “the great American symphony”
during the 1930s and 40s, it wasn’t until the 1950s and 60s when most
of the greatest American symphonies were actually composed. In the course
of pursuing his argument Tawa discusses about twenty composers, most
of whom one might expect to find, although I was somewhat surprised
by the importance given to the symphonies of John Alden Carpenter and
Douglas Moore, and somewhat disappointed by the absence of any mention
of Gardner Read’s four symphonies or Vittorio Giannini’s seven.
The Great American Symphony is a significant contribution to
the history of American art music; while most of the basic factual information
has appeared elsewhere before, Tawa brings to it the insight of his
own personal interpretation, while the circumstances he recounts led
to an egregious outcome that is still very much with us, i.e. the virtual
obliteration of a vast repertoire from the awareness of the younger
members of today’s musical public—a repertoire that at one time galvanized
the enthusiasm of a whole generation of music lovers. My own experience
has confirmed that young musicians today are largely unaware of the
symphonic music composed in America between, say, 1920 and 1970, aside
from a few favorites by Copland, Barber, and Bernstein. This is of particular
importance to those of us concerned with the fate of classical music
in American culture because much of the “listener-friendly” music composed
during the past 25 years has been written from a position of utter ignorance
of this earlier repertoire, resulting in much “reinventing of the wheel,”
and often not doing as good a job of it. It is also especially important
because the business of classical music in this country has been undergoing
a steady process of “dumbing down,” and, as a result, what is peddled
through the media as “classical music” has become increasingly boring,
hence failing to attract intelligent younger listeners who seek the
excitement of discovery, rather than the tedious re-hashing of a finite,
pre-digested, overly familiar roster of standards whose chief function
is to provide reassurance of class and status. (I realize that in writing
for Fanfare, I am “preaching to the choir,” because this publication
is geared to those with a taste for discovery.)
Tawa has a relaxed, conversational writing style, which is pleasant
to read, and he does not hide the fact that he is expressing his own
observations and perceptions, derived from a lifetime of listening and
study. So there is no pretense of pure “objectivity,” nor the tedium
of timid, defensive academic writing, while his descriptions of each
composer’s music succeed in capturing each one’s distinctiveness, providing
some guidance to the reader who wishes to explore the music that Tawa
is advocating.
Walter Simmons
© Fanfare 2009
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