THE OBSERVER:
The double life of Charles Ives (1874-1954) is summed up most aptly in his rhetorical remark: 'If a composer has a nice wife and some nice children, how can he let them starve on his dissonances?' With this comment, Ives completed his studies at Yale and went into the insurance profession, when he rose to the most senior ranks while concurrently composing music away from the public eye and free of commercial demands. His peculiar mélange of popular American songs, hymns and marching-band tunes, all combined with his own unique voice, lends his compositions a beautiful old-world charm while still shocking the listener with their startling freshness, remarkably vibrant after nearly a century.

Perhaps providing the finest interpretation of the two piano sonatas on disc, one each opening this superb two-CD set, Philip Mead is in his element, dexterously flying through those glittering dissonances and freely enjoying Ives's unstilted ragtime motifs. CLASSICAL CD OF THE WEEK
Tarik O'Regan

THE SUNDAY TIMES:
These two discs afford a generous survey of Ives's substantial corpus of piano music, including the two big sonatas, the six-minute Three-Page Sonata, six of the Studies, an obstinately astringent Waltz-Rondo and the set of Five Take-Offs, which parody a piano recital divided between popular tonal and angry atonal offerings. The performances are superb - the readings of the marvellous First Sonata, with its excursions into ragtime, and the dauntingly transcendental Concord sonata, with its flute and viola obbligati, and fixation on Beethoven's Fifth, are deeply pondered - and so is the recording.
Paul Driver

BBC MUSIC MAGAZINE:
This is a most desirable disc. Even more than his orchestral works or songs, the piano works of Charles Ives demonstrate the extraordinary and compelling originality of a composer who was truly ahead of his time. For instance, not allowing convention or practicality to constrict his creativity in the Piano Sonata No. 2 (Concord Mass., 1840-1860), Ives includes a part of flute and a couple of bars for viola as well as large clusters to be played by a board. Such an approach seems more akin to experimental works of the Sixties rather than a piece completed in 1912.
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Christopher Dingle

THE GUARDIAN:
Mead's no-nonsense performances of Charles Ives's two full-scale piano sonatas- the first, composed between 1902 and 1920, and the massive Concorde Sonata, began immediately afterwards - are naturally the focal points of his survey. But he also includes the terse and muscular Three-Page Sonata, the Five Take-Offs (a mixture of parody and radical experiment), and a selection of the studies in which Ives tried out techniques and material that would find their way into his larger-scale compositions.

Mead has no problems with the formidable technical difficulties many of these pieces present; the massive accumulations of notes, the cross rhythms and lightning switches of mood. But his sound is sometimes monochrome, and the recorded sound rather claustrophobic.
Andrew Clements

MUSICAL OPINION:
Piano music played a particularly significant role in Charles lves' career. There have been several recordings of the two big Sonatas, but less attention has been given to the substantial quantity of smaller scale pieces. Moreover, the Sonatas have not always been convincingly played or very well recorded. At the same time, most of the discs have emanated from the United States, and have often been difficult to obtain. They have also tended to disappear from the catalogue quite rapidly. Philip Mead's 2-disc set provides a neat and generous solution to all these problems. His interpretations of the Sonatas can be ranked with the best, showing that he has a strong affinity with lves' music. They are also very well recorded. Above all, each disc contains a good selection of lves' smaller items. Some are bizarre and some purely entertaining; but they give a fuller picture of lves' output for the piano.
Unknown reviewer

LA FOLIA:
For this impressive two-CD set, Mead plays a Steinway Model C, a smaller and tighter-sounding instrument than the concert Steinway D. Mead and producer David Lefeber intended to suggest an instrument Ives might have used. The piano’s reduced resonance probably accounts for Mead’s brisk speeds and pinched dynamics. It takes a few moments to adjust to the shift in scale. The Metier conjures a lonely musician improvising in a deserted town hall rather than a tuxedoed pianist onstage
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In “Emerson” (misspelled on Metier’s track listing), the 7/8 section (page 8) momentarily hints at Messiaen. It’s easy to miss the viola’s two sotto voce measures. Mead tears through “Hawthorne” deliriously. The tight piano shrouds Ives’ wonderful effects: sustained chords emerging from the din and ppp chorales following ffff salvos. In a hurried “The Alcotts,” the scent of lilacs blows too quickly through the town. Mead works wonders with the gauzy “Thoreau,” the A-C-G ostinato becoming Mahlerian. But the harsh, too-prominent flute doesn’t blend into the fog. If Mead had chosen a Steinway D, he’d move to the head of the class. Ironically, the Model C’s minimal reverberation reveals Mead’s astounding accuracy. I like what Mead has to say, but wish I could hear it better.

The massive Concord is less than half of Mead’s menu. The first sonata, Studies and short pieces speak to Mead’s dedication. Ives’ intensely personal piano works could reflect political views (Study No. 9, “The Anti-Abolitionist Riots in the 1830s and 1840s”) or favorite pastimes (Study No. 23, “Baseball Take-Off”). The Three-Page Sonata is a potent statement comparable to Bartók, Schoenberg, or Scriabin’s inquiries into short forms. The acoustics confirm three different recording venues.
Grant Chu Covell