Henry Powderly » Music

Saxophone Meditation 1

Henry E. Powderly II — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 02:40:44 +0000

I’d been hoping to shake some of the dust off my saxophone recently and record a few meditation-type pieces like I have on the piano. Well, tonight I decided to give it a go.

However, this time I recorded myself using Garageband on … the iPhone.

I frankly amazed that I can create multitrack recordings on a telephone, and even more surprised that the little microphone on this phone has such high quality.

The recording’s not perfect, but I like the result.

Saxophone Meditations 1

Piano meditation: On the breeze

Henry E. Powderly II — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 18:02:32 +0000

Here’s my latest piano improvisation, a short piece that I think I channeled my inner Erik Satie to create.

Again, I’ve used a simple motive, in this case the movement between two chords, and have tried to create a piece that has steady degree on movement without relying on harmonic changes and instead leaning on a repetitive rhythm and dynamic changes to create the mood.

It reminds me of a see-saw, or a sunflower swinging back and forth on a growing and fading summer wind.

I’m happy with the outcome, it’s peaceful.

Enjoy.

Piano Meditation 6

Piano meditation: The steps

Henry E. Powderly II — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 03:03:55 +0000

When I sit down to record a piano improvisation sometimes I just empty my head, play what I feel until I’ve said what I need to say. But sometimes I like to restrict myself to a specific motive, one of music’s oldest tricks, to create the piece.

You’ve already heard my “one note” meditation, as well as my exploration of the V-I progression. However, for this latest one, it’s all about octaves.

To create this each hand only plays octaves, so the harmonies never include more than two notes. The result is a sometimes haunting piece that climbs and falls, or mounts and slides downhill at times.

It’s beautiful and creepy and I’m happy with it.

Piano Meditation 5

Piano meditation: The tempest

Henry E. Powderly II — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 02:22:33 +0000

Who said program music is rightfully dead? In fact, I love it when music evokes a scene, mirroring some living phenomenon. It already mirrors, amplifies and often juxtaposes our emotional and spiritual experiences.

In the case of my next piano meditation, the idea was simple: a storm.

In order to create the effect I played a series of arpeggios, often faster than my fingers could move, causing a few muffed notes and blurred passages that I felt the captured unevenness of a whirling rainstorm. At one point, I break the rhythm altogether, and go wild like uneven bands of storm.

To make the point even more I upped the tempo in Garageband just a bit.

I pretty happy with the result. I don’t often play to set a scene, but maybe this is my musical attempt at haiku, which often finds greater meaning in the simple observation of nature.

Enjoy the piece.

Piano Meditation 4

Piano meditation: Peace, dark or light

Henry E. Powderly II — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 01:46:03 +0000

My last piano improvisation was on the more abstract side, an experiment in using one note only while still telling a musical story.

In this next one, it’s back to an exploration of mood, especially a minor mood. I based the meditation on a simple V – i resolution, stepping in and out of it, meandering through outside chords always with the inevitable V – i resolution in mind.

At the same time, I kept the movement of the piece very slow, almost decelerating at times, all to create a very somber and reflective feeling to the piece.

I kept the high points from gathering too much strength as well, which when I thought about it after listening to the piece the first time, it made it feel as if the music was a man with his head bowed who even when he’s on the brink of breaking out of the melancholy, doesn’t because he loves the mood too much.

Enjoy the piece.

Piano Meditation 3

Piano meditation: One note, no more

Henry E. Powderly II — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 02:08:26 +0000

I’ve always been disappointed the One Note Samba by Antonio Carlos Jobim doesn’t stick to one note, though the tune is catchy as hell. So for this second piano meditation I decided to try sticking to one note, and only one note.

That doesn’t mean one frequency. In this case I used five different octaves of G, but never left G.

It’s not all that pretty, and I made a point of breaking up the rhythms so the time and tempo felt fluid. In fact, the piece is a bit stressful at times, with all of the repetition, but who says music must always be pretty. Art not only imitates life, but it amplifies life too. And while repetition in our own daily lives may beat and beat on a muffled drum, it’s normal that an artistic interpretation of that sounds with more tension.

In addition to the repetition of the G, I discovered while recording that the pounding Gs started to generate a lot of feedback, which I ended up using in the piece. And since I played this on an electronic keyboard, which is always perfectly in tune, there are plenty of harmonics floating over the monotony.

Enjoy.

Piano Meditation 2 (With G)

The first keyboard meditation

Henry E. Powderly II — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 00:59:53 +0000

This is an exciting post for me, because I’ve decided to start posting some improvised piano music here, taking a risk, but getting it out there.

For as long as I’ve been playing piano I’ve held these types of personal sessions, where I hang my head and wail on the piano, following every idea as it pops into my head, encapsulating the mood of the moment in notes and chords and rhythms, letting go of any skill limitations and reaching in any direction I have the impulse to follow. When I was in high school I’d pick the lock of the theater door so I could jam on the baby grand on stage. When I moved out of my parents’ home, taking my piano with me, I’d often break into a meditation that lasted late into the night. And in college I again found ways to sneak into the auditoriums so I could play on the empty stage, whispering or pounding out music, alone and in the dark.

Now, as I’ve gotten older, my free time to jam like this is much less, which is why I’ve decided to start recording them when I get the chance.

For now, I’m playing these on a full size, USB-powered keyboard, using Garageband to record. The “Orchestra Steinway” piano in Apple’s symphony jam pack is incredibly warm and realistic, and with just enough echo to evoke an empty hall, the sound is perfect.

I’ll call these “piano meditations,” and I’ll post them as I record them.

The first one went in a somber, introspective direction, with moments of sweetness and a few spots of disorganized distress. I hope you enjoy it.

Piano Meditation 1

Chant

Henry E. Powderly II — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 10:29:54 +0000

Today I share a piece of music, Chant 1, which is last piano piece I’ve written in a while.

The general idea of the piece was to create a melody and to repeat it, each time adding a new note to the harmony. The motive, which is played in unison with its harmonies for the entire piece, starts out as a two part harmony, later picks up a third, fourth and lastly fifth voice.

I chose “Chant” because of the choral nature of the melody, and perhaps I will score it for choir one day. For now, I like how it functions as a piano piece.

Click to Listen:

Chant

And if you’d like to print out the score and play it yourself, be my guest.

Music inspired by the haunted hospital

Henry E. Powderly II — Mon, 04 May 2009 01:29:08 +0000

I consider it a perk anytime I get to use my creativity at work. And, in the case of the most recent example, I found some inspiration I can use on my own projects.

A few weeks ago I produced a video for Long Island Business News about the abandoned Pilgrim State campus in Brentwood on Long Island. It was once the largest mental institutions in New York state. It had its own railroad station, its own power plant.

It was also the mental hospital where poet Alan Ginsberg committed his mother, and she was lobotomized there.

However, today many of the building are demolished or abandoned, and it’s a spooky place that many believe to be haunted with the ghosts of the deceased insane.

Our photographer, Bob Gigione, took some amazing photos which I used to create the video, and Ambrose Clancy, who wrote a wonderful story about the hospital for the paper, crafted a poetic script which he read behind the video.

All the movie needed was some creepy music.

I wanted the music to sound like it came from outside of one of the crumbling buildings, with the listener on the outside, wondering which tormented soul was pounding away at a dusty, aged piano in the institution’s rec room.

So rather than hook up a nice microphone above my own piano, I used the tiny, built-in microphone on my MacBook Pro, which I placed on the floor.

As for the improv, I thought about the hospital of old, the cacophony of the herded insane, versus the eerie silence of the campus today. I’d often return to a C blues scale to keep the mood sorrowful, but not cliché, like a lot of diminished chords would have come across.

For the video, I put an echo effect on the track to add a bit of spookiness and make it sound more in the distance.

In the end, the video came out great, and it’s been very popular.

But here’s the piano track on its own, without the echo effect I used on the video. Rather, this track just has a live music filter on it. The best part, around 30 seconds into the track my dog Charley walked by the MacBook, and his little nails tapping on the wood floor adds a very creepy element to the track.

Click to play: Pilgrim State 1

While I was improvising this I really felt like I could have stretched out beyond 3 minutes. I’m going to record a series of Pilgrim State improvisations in the near future. But this time I’ll hook up the nice microphones.

I’ll be sharing those later.

Lastly, here’s the finished movie.

Improvising an album

Henry E. Powderly II — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 16:38:16 +0000

Most of my compositions are for solo piano, but when it came to creating my improvised album, Calendar, I tried something new. Using a synthesizer.

My first semester at Manhattan School of Music I took a MIDI class, which taught me how to create recordings of ensemble pieces without needing an ensemble. I loved it, and for more than 10 years I wanted my own setup; a keyboard, a set of synthesizer sounds, and a computer. I never had the cash.

Then, almost two years ago, after my employer unplugged my PC and handed me a MacBook – at my own prodding – I made the leap. Apple’s Garageband software, which came with the computer, looked like the idiot-proof program I needed. And for less than $300 I bought a full-sized, USB-powered keyboard. Finally I had the rudimentary studio I always wanted. And I had just the project in mind to break it in.

I decided I would create Calendar, an album where each track represented a month of the year, in a completely improvised fashion.

I’d start by thinking about a certain month, putting myself in the very mood of the month, gathering mental images, thinking about what instruments capture all of that. Then I’d noodle through the bank of synth sounds, come up with a quick melodic motif I thought felt right, pick the instrument I wanted to use for the lead track and just hit ‘record’ and play. If I didn’t like the track, I’d sometimes come up with a new motif, and go again. But I never wrote anything down. I wanted the music to feel spontaneous and vulnerable, imperfect was fine. Mood mattered most.

Next I’d just start layering the song with new sounds and instruments, playing along with the lead track, until I felt the song had enough color. The process was wonderful.

I’d played scores of gigs as a saxophonist, and I guess 99 percent of all the notes I ever played in public were improvised. But I’d never just improvised a song. And though improvising with my saxophone has always been a far more intimate experience, as it’s much easier to express what I want to express when I’m playing the horn, these improvised songs are much closer to the sounds I hear in my head. Improvising with my saxophone is like putting a nozzle on a garden hose. The spray is focused and fast, organized and able to be aimed. But improvising these songs was like taking the nozzle off, and the music just glub-glubbed right out of me.

Listen to them here. And any input is welcomed.

I write more about each track later.

Music inspired by the haunted hospital