
You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall

He plays everything. Even automobile hubcaps. And he’s a fine tenor, as we discovered one spring. Even a devilish composer, shown by his setting of a Longfellow poem we tackled under his direction.
He has a discerning ear, fine sense of humor, and rocks as well as Renaissance. He’s also a clean conductor, with supporting gestures, even when he’s playing ukelele on the podium.
Our Mister Music, or Music Man, as Gene Nichols is known in Washington County, Maine, and beyond. Director of Quoddy Voices.
I’m still not quite sure was his center of gravity is, but his orbit is quite wide.
a bass in the Balkan choir has a low C securely
or lower depending on the day, so he admits
what he’s hitting today is three steps below
my best rumble
with luck
or even two, on good fortune
the singers warm up on a modal scale
those two telling flats against a major
rehearse in three locations across the state
and come together at events like the one I’m at
and then dance, in lines not quite Greek
For him, that also shook up the universe.
The 150th anniversary of the birth of the American maverick takes place Sunday, the 20th, and despite his relative obscurity, he was a giant as an uncompromising modernist classical composer and as an innovative executive in the insurance industry.
Born in Connecticut and a graduate of Yale, Charles Ives’ musical transformation was certainly one of the most extraordinary cases in history, made all the more remarkable by the fact that he was forced to compose largely without hearing many of his adventurous works played by an orchestra or soloists until a half-century or more after their composition. Even the sonatas, songs, and chamber music suffered from widespread neglect.
As a matter of confession, I am quite fond of his music, from the wonderfully rich late-Romantic scores of his youth to the craggy, thorny modernist fireworks of only a few years later. I am among those who feel scandalized by the fact that this season orchestras aren’t playing even one of his symphonies in celebration, much less all four. Two of them did win Pulitzers, by the way, once they were finally aired, and riotous cheers often break out at the conclusion when the works are performed.
For a biographical overview of this American original, turn to my post, “Thoughts while listening to Charles Ives,” of November 5, 2013, at my blog, Chicken Farmer I still love you.
Today, I’m offering a Double Tendrils. Let’s start with ten quotations about music.
~*~
And here are ten Ives quotes about life itself.

The annual equinox Common Ground Fair in Unity, Maine, features multiple contradances each day in its folk traditions tent. The Maine Fiddle Camp hosts musicians and callers on the stage.

Eastern European music features low bass notes prominently. I listened to this group with envy. They were doing an all-Ukraine program.

The Maine Balkan Choir international music and dance ensemble performs at the annual Common Ground Fair during hour-long breaks in the big contradance tent. The choir rehearses in three subgroups across the state and then comes together for events like this.
Their closest location to me is Ellsworth, two -and-a-half hours away.

That’s Moose Island Contras Etc., a very fine traditional country dance band with a very fine caller. We do have fun around here.

The second-Saturdays afternoon event at a local tavern is already full of fine memories, including a visiting famed Irish fiddler shown here. Its core is MICE, the Moose Island Contradance ensemble. That space was soon filled with other players.
Most conductors try to make it melodious and strictly in time, constrained by starched shirts and gowns. Seated audiences typically go for that tuneful approach, not that humming along is approved.
What I find more compelling and exciting, though, is when the performance is filled with bubbles, like champagne, and a tad tipsy. One dance partner stepping on the other’s toes. Even better, when there’s some tension between, say, the brass and the strings, with a hint of freedom within the beats, the way one dance partner is a hair ahead or behind the other. Yeah, a little swing, if you will. And a little playful unpredictability.
Well, here we go, in the air approaching another new year.
My choir has been singing a joyous Renaissance piece that translates, in Allen M. Simon’s rendering, as:
Today Christ is born:
Today the Savior appeared:
Today on Earth the Angels sing,
Archangels rejoice:
Today the righteous rejoice, saying:
Glory to God in the highest.
Alleluia.
I first heard it in the second classical concert I ever attended, around age 12, with the velvety Roger Wagner Chorale on tour. Never, ever, did I imagine I’d be part of presenting it myself.
Still blows me away, all around.