🎶 Original Compositions

Opus 1, Composed late 2004 — February 2005. This was my first ever attempt at writing a ragtime work for piano, and resulted in a straightforward AABBCCDD medley form (no repeat of the A strain). It has its moments, I think, although I’d likely revise some things in the B strain bass clef, at a minimum, were I to revisit this today. I don’t think I’d change much in the A, C or D, although the piece lacks a certain cohesiveness throughout. Then again, I have provided (below) a bit of a narrative for the piece, which I suppose allows me to compare it with, say, Joplin’s “Wall Street Rag” (in the sense of providing four themes presented as done here).

Neier is an extremely small locality in Franklin County, Missouri, about 5 miles southwest of where I grew up. It had fields in which to run around, a cemetery, and a church where they often held dances on summer nights. Those dances are specifically described in the trio, which explains the presence of a little Dr. John-style boogie. The first theme is sort of a simple folk melody in Ab, followed by a habanera section in Db, then the trio in F#, and a F# ending theme.

By the way, the original footage I'd used in the now-deleted video was public domain footage from an television show called “The Old American Barn Dance” (1953).

Opus 2, Composed March 2005. This was my second ragtime composition. Somehow a proper AABBACCDD form eluded me still, this one having no D strain repeat. Aside from the robotic-sounding (rendered) tremolos, the piece isn’t bad, though. The inspiration is obvious. Hopefully, the A theme sets the overall mood and time period, the B section recalls many of the perils encountered, the C section recalls some of the more complex philosophical musings, and the D section evokes a river setting (and the richness of the chords in that section reflects both the general joy of this novel and perhaps just a slight awareness that Jim and Huck in fact missed Cairo, having drifted past it in the fog). The original spectacular footage, by the way, was from a public domain work called “People Along the Mississippi” (1952) by Gordon Weisenborn. Super stuff in that whole work, worth checking out on archive.org.

Opus 3, Composed July 2005. Kirby Park runs along the Susquehanna River in Kingston, PA. Its many intriguing nooks and crannies, along with the memories I have of the place, call for a bit more of an experimental effort than the other tunes posted here so far. The piece has definite ragtime roots, some references to blues, some nice rich 10ths here and there that sort of remind me of Errol, a bit of showiness, unusual modulations, maybe a little drama, a good bit of reflection, and I also threw in a few rather ethereal phrases here and there that are reminiscent to me of the fascinating composer Louis Alter. In other words, it’s a complete mess compositionally… I’m not really happy or proud of this one for many reasons (even if there are a few moments of inspiration herein), but it is what it is. Let’s see, I believe we start out in Bb, switch to Db for a bit, and then finish off in Ab. Give it a listen. What else do you have to do for three minutes and thirty-eight seconds?!

Opus 4, Composed Summer 2005. I suppose the term “hottie” is universal slang meant to indicate that someone is attractive; however I don’t believe I’d ever heard the term prior to moving to Pittsburgh (where, it is often uttered by those with the deepest Pittsburgh accent as “hawty” — as in “Yinz saw some hawties dahn-tahn at the Stillers game.”).

But, no matter where you’re from, I think the term has its universal connotations. If a piece of music were to be called a Hottie, it would almost certainly have to be a fast-paced rag, textured with sensual suggestions, evocative rhythms, rich chords — and it should be course fun to play. Is that what this is? You be the judge. (I like it, for the most part. The opening sections aren’t too bad but, I must say, the D theme represents some of my more inspired work to date.)

Opus 5, Composed Summer 2005. Blue as in “based (somewhat) in the blues scales”; Cat as in “intended to (somewhat) mimic cats”; Postmodern as in “many influences, many textures, etc.”; Scratching, as in “pun on scratching post” and, to a lesser extent, the feel when you’re playing the main theme is kind of like scratching a cat.

This piece is mostly in Db. The main theme started out as an improvisation one day a while back and I thought it was catchy. There’s a good bit of room for improv in this piece, if you’re able to do that sort of thing. I play it almost as written, but embellish a few parts and alter the timing here and there. There were a couple of measures where I just couldn’t perfectly notate it to mimic how it’s supposed to sound … but I got it about as close as possible to my intentions. The noble-feline trio is not blues-based, but I like how it fits in to the piece.

Opus 6, Composed October 2005. From 1997 to 2010, we lived in Pittsburgh, PA, where “Kennywood” was (and certainly still is) the local amusement park. In fact, it’s more than that; it’s a tradition and an institution. I don’t think a trip to the park is complete without a ride on their classic carousel. In the center, they have a vintage carousel organ providing the music. That’s the feel I’m going for with this composition. Ideally, it would be rendered by such an organ, a calliope, or something similar. A bell-like treble clef would also be befitting, although it’s presented here as a piano rendering.

I have an old piece of sheet in my house called “Sunny Jim.” On the cover, there’s a little dog with a dialogue bubble. The dog says, “Rag-Time Finish!” (no-doubt a marketing point back in the turn of the last century). So, here’s a modern-day composition with a similar approach — a rather light-hearted romp on the keys in Ab with a bold rag-time finish. It remains one of my favorite of my own writings.

A note about the video footage (now unavailable)… Naturally, it would have seemed preferable to get some actual footage from Kennywood for this. I searched around for any that I could possibly use, but came up empty. However, after quite an exhaustive search on archive.org, I managed to find a true gem entitled “Life Is a Lark at Willow Grove Park” (c. 1956, public domain from the Prelinger Archives). It fits the mood absolutely *perfectly* here as the setting for this composition. I wouldn’t change a thing now that it’s done.

Opus 7, Composed December 2005. The Laurel Highlands is a spectacularly beautiful area in southwestern Pennsylvania. My daughter and I took a long bike ride there in ’05 or ’04 (starting out in Ohiopyle State Park), and I always loved going back to that area. For those unfamiliar with the place, it’s about an hour southeast of Pittsburgh — home of the famous “Fallingwater” home designed by Frank Lloyd Wright (and many other wonders).

As for the rag, it reflects the natural aspects of the area — the trails, the river, the scenic overlooks, the mysteries. For some strange reason, this is the second time I’ve followed a Db theme with an F# trio. I like that particular transition, probably because F# and Db share so many common notes — but also because F# is such a beautiful key to me. I’m rather fond of this piece, even though I do plan some revisions in the finale — perhaps even a major overhaul of that theme, which I struggled with and never felt fully satisfied by in its present incarnation.

As for the video here… well, we moved away from SW Pennsylvania years ago. Chances are I won’t be going back to Ohiopyle anytime soon, so I’ve set this piece to some footage shot a few years ago heading out highway 26 from Portland (Oregon) to the coast. I just popped the camera on the dash one day & let it film the trip. Fits fairly well here, I think.

Opus 8, Composed January 2006. This was perhaps my most ambitious attempt to date, having set out to accomplish two goals: First, I wanted a depiction of the artist Henri Rousseau, also known as Le Douanier (which means “The Customs Officer”). (The cover mock-up shown here features one of his self-portraits.) Second, I set out to write something in five sharps, as it was a different mind-set than my normal places of comfort, which were Eb and Db for the most part (although I’d also been toying with F#). The piece is meant to be played rather quickly, as reflected in the rendering. However, there would be some important differences in any new, live-played version. For example, I slow the D section a bit, but not too much, and have come to introduce a bit of rubato in place, most notably in the right hand where, once the piece is mastered, the melody can benefit from a certain bit of controlled temporal independence which I think clarifies the emotional intent of the phrasing. I don’t believe this comes through properly in the rendered piece or the score, but it’s nevertheless part of this work. A few areas either have been or are still slated for some revisions, as well. But, I’m pleased with the piece in general. It’s always been well received in salons, etc.

Philosophically, there is much to admire about Rousseau. For one, many people often search for inspiration related to late-starters. I don’t believe Rousseau *really* gained any momentum until his 40s, and thereafter. So, if you’re looking for that type of story, read up on him. Next, the man was multi-talented — publishing art, music, and writing (and who knows what other output). This is a model that far too few follow in today’s world of what I feel is basically societally-forced specialization (resulting in, for example, self-deprecation being a far-too common style of communication and self-identification). I mean that last item not as a promotion of the opposite scenario, of course — more in the sense that few people today seem to embrace the possibility of living the “Renaissance man” ideal of multi-disciplinary advancement. Finally, there is the notion of what “naive” or “primitive” means — usually uttered by critics in a condescending manner, in my view. If you want to know the truth about my own art, music, and writing … I do it all strictly to entertain myself.

Opus 10, Composed December 2006. This started as a quick improv in Db (for the A strain) — just put my hands on the keys and it came out (though it’s a bit more bouncy in real life, as sequencing music tends to remove any rubato). Anyway, I’d almost written this tune off as an odd little curiosity, but then I was out cleaning the garage and an idea for a B strain hit me. Clearly, this was evolving into a decent rag. But, no trio came readily to mind. However, after a little thought, I finally decided to build off of the 10ths in the left hand at the end of the A strain repeat, so I downshifted keys and threw in some exotic scale references. For the D section, I was coming up empty again. However, after so many Bb notes in the trio, I decided to change keys again to Bb and reprise the A theme, though modified extensively. It ends with a flourish of 64ths that I probably play just as fast but not as precisely timed.

The D theme is also interesting (to me) in that I purposely lost a beat near the end (see measure 100, which has just 3 8ths instead of 4). Odd, yes, but I like it this way.

Opus 11, Composed January 2007. A friend of mine back in college, a poet, once remarked that she didn’t know what she liked better: the poems that just flowed forth effortlessly or the ones you really had to work for. The former is always welcome, but the latter offers perhaps a bit of a heightened sense of ownership. This one’s a pretty good mix. The main theme came to me a while back, and I’d toyed with a number of additional ones (scrapping several in the process). It’s an infernal tune, though — hence the name (taken from a fictional location in a book I’ve been reading — T. Pynchon’s “Against the Day”). Four flats, my impish friends.

Opus 12, Completed Spring 2007. Well, what can I say about this one? It’s just a crazy thing that I like to play more than it is a real rag or anything. I’d originally set out to write a more formal piece here, but it took on a life of its own and it is what it is.

A name came to mind at some point in the process, apropos as the tune ends abruptly after just three themes instead of four. (But, what would you expect from a magician?) Since I wrote this beast, I can (and often do) play it, but it’s got a few measures during which one can actually hurt oneself if played too quickly. It’s chock full of clichéic stuff, mostly drawn on the New Orleans piano tradition, yet defiantly maintains a sense of originality. I never really meant to write this one down, but did anyway. Surely you know who Erich is, right? Erich Weiss? Ring a bell?

Opus 13, Composed June 2007. In Ayn Rand’s book Atlas Shrugged, these are the words spoken by Eddie Willers to Pat Logan, the engineer selected by Dagny Taggart to operate the maiden run of her new John Galt line. It’s one of my favorite passages in the book, so I figured I’d name a rag after it. While this tune is entirely original, there are nonetheless references to other composers’ work herein. The A theme has a few chord changes that may faintly call to mind some of the modern rags of George Winston; the first eight measures of the B theme’s bass might remind one of Confrey’s Kitten on the Keys; the Trio is a subtle nod to Frank French’s Belle of Louisville, and the D theme is a direct homage to David Thomas Roberts’ Pinelands Memoir. I originally composed this for a contest. It received no awards or honorable mentions, but I’m still rather fond of the piece, and hope you like it, too.

Opus 14, Composed October 2007. When my sister opened this up at Christmas (alongside my mother and father, who also got compositions — included above), she said, “Oh look, mine’s in C.” She was implying, of course, that I purposely made the tune easy to play. Well, it does have a simplistic sound, but I assure you this is no walk in the park. It’s got plenty of interesting complexity that I’ll leave it to her (and to you) to discover. I was shooting for an ethereal feel in many places (such as the opening theme and the entire second section). Note: Measure 32 is just 1 beat long!

Opus 16, Composed December 2007. Dedicated to my mother, born 10/27/45. Of the three pieces posted online from my little Christmas/Birthday Suite, this is the most traditional in terms of ragtime form (with the rather unusual maintenance of a single key signature throughout — Bb). The trio is a lot easier than it may appear, as my notation software doesn’t do such a great job with grace notes, forcing me to notate these things most of the time. This piece and two others were given to my family as Christmas gifts (nicely bound!). I now understand why most composers charge a fee for their sheet music. Putting these things together requires some serious Kinko’s time (over and above composition time, of course). Aside from these three pieces, I’ve never published bound versions. Instead, I just make them all available as PDFs.

This was the first of a casual series of experimental, minimalist, electronic, ambient looping compositions done on an iPad a few years ago. I’d had this melody in my mind for a while and, although it was awkward to articulate on an iPad (my first go at the GarageBand app), the result was satisfactory. Sketched it all out one night in a parking lot of a Safeway. :-) I call this piece “The Violin.” Like the others in this series, it’s a perpetual loop, meant to be built upon with various layers of sound and performed that way using the mixers. The layers here include standard GarageBand instruments: “Grand Piano,” “Whirly,” “Soul Organ,” “Live Rock Kit,” “Heavy Metal Organ,” and “Plucky Synth” (all with various effects). The original (spectacular!) footage I'd set this to was public domain from the Prelinger Archives — footage from an ice harvest in the Poconos from 1919.

Another in an experimental iPad looping set. This one’s more of a trance-like reverie, entitled “Critters.” Prior to working this up as an iPad loop, I’d envisioned it as a never-ending repetitive progression, possibly realized on some bell-like instrument like a child’s piano. In any case, this loop was done on the iPad GarageBand app using the instruments: “Ethereal Rhythm,” “Whirly,” “Grand Piano,” “Hip Hop Drum Machine,” and the “Evolving Colors” synth. The public domain footage I'd set this to was from a 1952 short film called “Spring Comes to a Pond.”

I call this piece “For Máire Brennan” as a tribute to the well-known singer from the band Clannad. Their 1975 release “Clannad 2” is among my favorite recordings of all time. While probably not readily apparent in this recording, this composition includes some intentional, very oblique, references to that album — especially the haunting “By Chance It Was.”

While this piece is best realized on a specific spacey synth sound I have on another synthesizer, the sound here from my Yamaha digital piano is actually a fine example of how I would envision this piece mentally. (Unlike my previous upload, this one is a live-played recording — includes a few mistakes, but all in all I’m happy with it.)

The piece works well for solo piano, if at the cost of a certain ambience. I played it once for a group of piano players… I think they were expecting my usual ragtime because, when I finished and turned toward the group, they all just stared at me for about 10 seconds before applauding. That was weird, and memorable; I thought they probably hated it at first.

Opus 17, Composed 2008–2013. I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about Northern California — especially the area between Sacramento and Tahoe. I’ve never been there but, from what I’ve read and seen, can’t imagine a much more beautiful area. More description later after I post this tune. (I’ve finished a first draft of it and am nearly finished notating it as of July 2009.) For many, this will be more of a listening tune (as opposed to one you’d want to invest the time to learn), as it’s written in F# and then switches to B — two keys that you don’t see much of in the ragtime world. Somewhere, I have a video of me playing this live. It's on my Facebook account somewhere if interested.

The above video is an original piano rag by Jim Dee, composed Dec ’17 / Jan ’18. I had originally set this to some early public domain footage entitled “Today’s Horse Farm: Sun-Up to Sun-Down” from archive.org.

The video above is a ragtime-based piece I’ve been working on called “The Leveret,” which I’ve orchestrated here for piano, violin, cello, and glockenspiel. To give the piece some narrative, let’s say that we start out in F with a classic-rag-inspired summertime frolic, move from that wonderment into a dark, breathy autumnal theme, reprise the initial dance (with some revisions), burrow into a slow, introspective winter theme in Eb, and then finally emerge, celebrating the resurgence of Spring with a joyous, new ragtime dance that pays homage to the original, yet blazes new ground, this time in F#. At some point, I’ll post the orchestration, or at least the piano score, here as well.

The video above is a ragtime-based piece I’ve been working on called “The Leveret,” which I’ve orchestrated here for piano, violin, cello, and glockenspiel. To give the piece some narrative, let’s say that we start out in F with a classic-rag-inspired summertime frolic, move from that wonderment into a dark, breathy autumnal theme, reprise the initial dance (with some revisions), burrow into a slow, introspective winter theme in Eb, and then finally emerge, celebrating the resurgence of Spring with a joyous, new ragtime dance that pays homage to the original, yet blazes new ground, this time in F#. At some point, I’ll post the orchestration, or at least the piano score, here as well.

Here’s a new ragtime work, “Dorothy and the Bird Circus,” composed on the (awful-but-barely-functional) piano in our Puerto Vallarta apartment in April 2018. When notating the piece, I added a music box track to the treble clef (which largely mimics the piano treble clef, but deviates in a few places) for a magical effect. The piece was originally set to circa-1951 “Bird Circus” footage (public domain from the Prelinger Archives). This is perhaps the 15th or so project I’ve done of this kind, and I believe it’s my 20th ragtime composition! The woman shown here was reportedly named Dorothy, which I especially liked, as that was my Irish Grandmother’s middle name.

Here’s a new ragtime project I’ve been working on this month. Unlike my previous video post, this one’s actual title doesn’t relate to the footage. I actually call this rag “The Real West” and initially aimed to set it to various western U.S. footage. But, I couldn’t find anything to match my original vision, and then stumbled across this now-public-domain film “Design for Dreaming” (1956) from the Prelinger archive. I really loved how well it fit, which is somewhat odd, as I now envision this piece in a few completely different ways. I actually went back into the score and tweaked a few things after finding this footage, although such changes were subtle. Oddly, I also notice a strong presence of a particular E note throughout which seems to have rendered as though it is stressed, which it is not. Others may not hear it, but it seems to be a quirk of the rendering software used, or the particular piano soundfont.

Here’s a string quartet I’ve been writing lately. It’s structured in the classic ragtime format (4 themes, AABACCDD) and, while it includes passages of ragtime (and syncopation throughout), it largely maintains a habanera rhythm. The piece, which begins in B major and finishes out the trio and finale in Eb, is largely built around variations of a main theme, which is established in the A and taken in various directions in the C and D. I rendered this via MuseScore, using a few sound fonts that I found appealing, although perhaps I’d switch out for a better cello, if I ever found one. The lead violin is a tad slow for proper articulation of the theme, but the alternative was a “fast” violin that sounded far too tense for this composition. (If I were to have this performed ever, this could be corrected, of course with a human violinist!)

This is the first composition I’ve ever done without being in front of an instrument; this one went straight from my brain to musical notation. I waffled on whether this would be for piano and two violins, or some other combination of keyboard(s) and strings. Much depends on the sound balancing I can achieve with the given instruments used. But, it’s a fairly versatile chamber piece, I think. In this rendering, I liked the treble clef keyboard as a music box sound, a couple of strings, and the piano taking care of the bass. In any case, it’s a quick piece…about half in C and the rest in Eb. The original video for this was taken from public domain footage called “Soundie: When A Gypsy Makes His Violin Cry Emery Deutsch” from the Pelinger Archives.

For any friends harboring a curiosity for the aural intersection of classical and psychedelic, I present this new work “Nightmare at the Darlings” for piano and two violins:

I conceived the overarching idea years ago and often experimented with it as a potential solo piano piece, though never succesfully, as it lacked a particular vein of disorientation that eluded me at the time. But, as I’ve been so drawn to violin lately, I realized that adding additional string layers would fulfill the macabre vision — which is to musically describe (and possibly even induce) a frightening, disorienting, unsettling foray into the horrific-psychedelic, though safely and hopefully not without its own kind of beauty that, I think, offers integrity to the experience.

For anyone interested, the piece is notated in 7/8, and is in C minor. :-)

BTW, one reaction I get commonly to my original music is that I should score films — which I would absolutely love to do. Anyone interested in that, please contact me.

Much of this new piece has existed solely in my head for years, but never fleshed out into a whole idea. One of the more interesting aspects of it, for me, is that the bass drone, arpeggiated motion, and melody can actually be performed fairly convincingly on the piano simultaneously (the bass via sostenuto / pedaling; the right-hand half of the 6/8 arpeggiated rhythm using the thumb, index, and middle fingers; and the melody using mainly the ring and 5th fingers). Much of this piece is written with that intention, although here it’s fleshed out into fuller expression via multiple instruments. I han’t had a specific title in mind for the piece, although my initial vision was cinematic in nature, specifically bringing to mind music that might be heard in Japanese anime sequences. But, as I looked for video to sync up with the music, there were naturally copyright concerns in that direction. Fortunately, I found this Creative Commons-licensed video (see my Youtube video description for a link to the original visual source) featuring the Mandelbrot set, which I thought a near-perfect fit. For that reason, I’ve entitled the piece “The Art of Roughness,” a term coined by the father of fractals, Benoit Mandelbrot, to describe, in many ways, the mathematics of order and chaos — an area of personal interest for many years. So, here’s “The Art of Roughness.” I recommend good, loud external speakers / headphones to appreciate the goblins lurking in the details.