Concert Notes

Ives’ “Central Park in the Dark”

Notes by TŌN violinist Haley Maurer Gillia

Central Park in the Dark is a miniature tone poem written by Charles Ives around 1909. While Ives is now regarded as one of the 20th century’s most influential American composers, he actually had a full-time job in insurance and found most of his success and recognition after his death.

The work showcases the new ways Ives found to depict sonically the world around him: through polytonality, tone clusters, dissonance, and layering. The piece is meant to describe a hot summer night in Central Park, with the sounds of nature and urban life, from a park bench. Interestingly, Ives explains that these are his musings on how the park used to be “before the combustion engine and radio monopolized the earth and air.” This nostalgia is especially poignant from our vantage point in 2024, well over 100 years after Ives wrote it. It creates a sense of connection—even in 1909 he was considering what the city was like before technology changed so many things. As someone born and raised in New York City, summer in the city evokes specific feelings, and I feel a connection to Ives’ vision even a century later. In the city, there is always a layering—of smells, sounds, visuals—and a density to the sound and thickness of the summer city heat, even in the park. This is palpable in the composition of the work. To me, the strings that open the piece represent the omnipresent heat and the surrounding nature.

After the strings begin, different instruments enter, slowly introducing us to more elements of the scene, building up texture and density. This overlaying, or collage, technique of musical lines creates a cacophony that brings to life the city Ives has imagined: ragtime piano, a siren, a horse-drawn carriage, nature, and the hot summer night all mixing together.  As you listen, consider what these sounds might represent to you; you can be on the Central Park bench in 1906, imagining what the park might have been like even before then, or you could be in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park in 2004, as I was, or in 2024, in a seat at Carnegie Hall.