The man who suggested I start this blog told me that great writing is buoyant. I like that description, and I especially enjoy thinking about the times when words have helped keep me afloat. The more I think about it, the more I realize that all kinds of great art, not just writing, are buoyant.
An especially buoyant piece of music -- and an appropriate soundtrack to a first blog post -- is Herbie Hancock's classic track "Maiden Voyage." In this work for jazz quintet, Hancock creates a floating effect by suspending traditional musical patterns. He begins by playing repeated piano chords with subtle dissonance. Usually chords are built around intervals called thirds (On a piano keyboard, you can make a third by playing one white key, skipping the next one, and then playing the third). In this track, though, Hancock makes chords by stacking fourths. These piano harmonies immediately uproot listeners, who are suddenly unable to discern the key of the music, and force them to drift along with the flow of Hancock's playing.
Some jazz players use unusual chords to overwhelm listeners and submerge them in their intense vision. Not Hancock. Although his chords create dissonance, "Maiden Voyage" conjures a peaceful, occasionally dreamy mood. Part of this effect comes from the rhythm of the vamping piano. If you wanted, you could count four steady beats against the opening of the track. Hancock doesn't play on these beats, though; he plays in the spaces between them. This syncopated rhythm is another way in which Hancock suspends listeners' usual expectations and creates a sense of floating in his music.
Of course, "Maiden Voyage" is much more than just a distinctive, buoyant opening. Instead of trying to describe the rest of the track, I'm including a link to the song and the distinctive cover art of Hancock's classic LP with the same name:
That's the story of how a pianist keeps his music afloat. For more about how words and music keep me afloat, check back with this blog soon.
