Piano Power

New Orleans piano virtuoso HENRY BUTLER flexes his musical muscles on his new album, Homeland

Striving to describe New Orleans-native Henry Butler's astounding piano playing is not unlike trying to describe New Orleans itself. There's a regional flavor to it, but it's also a robust gumbo of styles and emotions, a soulful amalgam of grace and speed and whimsy. Henry doesn't bother trying to describe his music himself; he plays it, and leaves it to others to apply labels to it. What might strike a listener first when hearing his music is the speed with which he delivers his percussive pianistic flights of fancy. But there's so much in it: there's a precision and elegant intensity of focus on every note and melody, there's the blues from the Delta to Chicago, there's ragtime, classical, funk, gospel, R&B and more. As an example of this fusion of styles, he plays his first composition, "Paradox," written at the age of 16. It resounds like a poignant rendezvous of Joplin, Gershwin and Chopin.

A warm rain is falling today on New Orleans as Henry sits at his grand piano, and talks about his music, and his latest CD - his 8th release - entitled Homeland. The title comes from a new song that he wrote with lyricist/guitarist Vasti Jackson, about the courage and fortitude required to defend and embrace America. "In order to have a strong homeland," he said, "you need to keep things open for debate. You need to allow for greater self-expression. And I see the reverse happening now."

Born blind in New Orleans, he left the city at the age of five to go to a boarding school, the State School for the Blind in Baton Rouge. He remained there, benefiting from their vital music program, until the age of 17. "It was a great school," he said, "both for academics and music." Even before attending that school, he was drawn to music, primarily the visceral gospel singing and playing he heard in church. "I felt the music," he said. "I felt it through my whole body, my whole being." He also would visit a neighbor's piano, as there was none in his own home, and "play around on it." But Henry wasn't just banging on it, as most kids do. "I would always find a note," he said, "and then always try to find a note that sounded good with it."

At school, he started formally studying the piano at the age of eight, though he said at first he would have preferred being outside playing football and other sports. "I was volunteered to take piano lessons. `Volunteered' in the military sense of the word. I didn't have any choice. And since I couldn't fight it, I got into it." The lessons paid off, as Butler was a natural musician, and had that rarest of abilities - perfect pitch. He not only developed his own unique style on the keys, he was also a fine singer, and soon became both a drummer and a sax player. But piano remained his first love, even before his feet could touch the floor. "I could just barely touch the pedals at first," he said.

Within months of taking lessons, he was being showcased along with a good friend, playing piano at other schools and astounding those in attendance with the amazing dexterity and soulfulness he brought to everything he played, whether it was blues, classical, or anything in-between. "I got a lot of notoriety locally for that."

Asked how a blind man masters the piano, he said, "You're not supposed to look at the keyboard anyway. It's like typing. You learn the keyboard based on the position of the keys, and you don't have to look at it. And that works. If you look at the keyboard, you have another barrier that you need to surpass." He also attributes his virtuosity on the keys to his early start: "Learning anything when you're young is the time to do it," he said. "You're wide open. There are no barriers, and nothing to stop you from learning."

He started playing professionally with a band at the age of 14 in Baton Rouge. He did all the arranging for the group, though he was its youngest member. He would play the separate parts on the piano for each member of the band to learn. "Whatever I had to do to get them to learn their parts, I would do," he said. Often he would write out arrangements in Braille, and dictate them to his music teacher, who would then transcribe them for the other bandmembers, who were only partially blind.

He attended Southern University in Baton Rouge, where he majored in voice and minored in piano. Despite this focus on singing, however, he always knew piano was at the heart of his musical expression. "Piano was my first love," he said, "and it still is. But I also love to sing." After college, he began playing with a series of bands, and made his living as a musician. A lesson with the legendary Professor Longhair in the late seventies (to whom he dedicates the album's final track, "Ode To Fess") gave him new insight into his approach to the keys, which changed his style forever. "He said, `If you didn't play the piano so hard, you could move a little bit faster.' And that really hit home, because at the time I was trying to speed up everything. But fortunately, with a little practice and a lot of time, I can play a little faster without killing myself."

Asked how old he is, he's a little cagey. With a laugh, he said, "I'm as old as God and as young as eternity." He then added, "I probably come from the last generation that can really serve as a bridge between real jazz and funk and blues and gospel. I think most people now are more specific in what they do. Also, being from New Orleans, I was listening to a lot of people who really had to play a lot of styles to make ends meet. Fortunately, I was the beneficiary of seeing one human vehicle playing well in a variety of styles."

That variety of styles has remained a hallmark of his work. He made his first album, Five'n Around, in 1986 on MCA/Impulse records, and has continued to make dazzling albums featuring this happy rainbow of styles, both solo works and band efforts, ever since. "When I started out," he said, "I guess I wasn't wise enough to trim down my sails. I was doing a little bit of everything. I didn't know any better. And some people didn't like it, and some people did. But I never stopped doing blues or gospel or R&B - even some classical. I went through years of being blackballed by some, and hailed by others."

These days he's mostly being hailed, and is being celebrated in a documentary dedicated to the vital community of veteran New Orleans musicians called Make It Funky, which features Butler, the Neville Brothers and Allan Toussaint, along with famous fans that include Bonnie Raitt and Keith Richards. The hope is that the film will elevate the awareness of these great musicians in the way the Buena Vista Social Club movie introduced the world to a community of gifted Cuban musicians.

"Music is healing," he said. "Each key has its own energy spectrum, which can be used in a variety of ways, and healing is one of them. Most of humanity really hasn't investigated it a lot, but it's a very real thing." His own music bears this healing attribute, and contains a genuine happiness that can't be denied. "Well, I'm a happy guy," he concludes. "I never was one who thought that blues had to be sad. So even when I play the blues, I play happy blues. I have fun playing music. And if people have fun hearing it, there's nothing better than that. That's the ultimate goal. "

By Paul Zollo


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