I gave a warm welcome to Vol. 1 of this series of Ives songs (9/91) and included it in my ''Critics' Choice'' in January. This second volume brings many more songs to the British catalogue for the first time and emphasizes the position of Ives as a major song composer. His output of some 160 songs challenges performers since they need to cope with anything from exploratory dissonance to vernacular comedy, where a convincing American idiom is required. Herford and Bowman are adept with the rough-and-tumble of Ives's songs, where the piano is not mere accompanist but a contestant for the limelight. The three Italian landscapes, August, September and December, based on some Rosetti translations of early Italian poets, are delivered with real aplomb; the tough grandeur of Lincoln comes across well, as does the snarling indictment of politicians in Nov 2, 1920; and the atmospheric landscapes are done with stillness and calm—Grantchester (Rupert Brooke) and Afterglow, for example. Also Thoreau, with a slightly unstable spoken American accent. The Greatest Man, a boy's tribute to his father, is exactly right as a vivid portrayal.
But overall I am slightly disappointed after the high expectations aroused by Vol. 1. For one thing, the order of the selection seems less convincing. It starts with Ives's setting of the poem used by Brahms as Feldeinsamkeit (Fischer-Dieskau on DG—5/71, nla—was unforgettable in these early German songs and Herford is not far short in this one) and goes on to In the Alley, a really silly take-off of a Victorian melodramatic ballad where the man ends up seeing the girl he fancies in the company of another man. It seems rather early in the programme to project such facetiousness, which is taken a bit literally anyway. In the Alley also brings in Ives's own associations, which may not mean much unless explained. Under the first phrase of the vocal line you hear the rustling sound of newspaper being turned! This is mentioned in the score and immortalizes the local bar pianist who was in the habit of reading a newspaper whilst playing. Some reviewers may get caught into thinking this is an editing fault since it is not explained in my own CD notes!
For another comic song of this type—Romanzo di Central Park—Ives concocted a text based on what he considered the soppy end-rhymes of romantic poetry. Neither Herford nor Ramey, who is far more po-faced, plays this for laughs. Ives knew his comedies as inconsequential trifles, but Charlie Rutlage is a classic. Herford and Bowman are a bit sentimental in the descriptive outer portions of the story, which are a foil to the violent central death. But I have concentrated too much on some minor reservations when I could have gone into more detail about the recording's achievements. These are there to be explored and anyone who enjoyed Vol. 1 will want to possess this one too—and, I hope, more to come.'