Donald Ashwander
Updated: Oct 10
Donald Ashwander was not your typical composer. He worked in shipyards, sailed aboard merchant ships, played piano in cocktail lounges, and spent nearly three decades making children laugh with a theater company whose scenery was constructed largely from paper bags. Somewhere along the way, he also became one of the most original voices in American ragtime.
A self-described "ragtime piano player," Ashwander was a composer who refused to be confined by labels. His music could be playful, nostalgic, mischievous, wistful, or surprisingly dark—sometimes all within the same composition. While he drew inspiration from the classic ragtime era of Scott Joplin and his contemporaries, Ashwander believed the music had far more to say than its early pioneers had been able to explore.
At a time when ragtime was being rediscovered primarily as a charming relic of America's musical past, Ashwander helped demonstrate that it could also be a living, evolving form of artistic expression. He didn't simply want to recreate the sounds of yesterday. He wanted to discover what ragtime might become tomorrow.
From the Alabama Countryside to New York City
Donald Ashwander was born on July 17, 1929, in Birmingham, Alabama. During the Great Depression, his family returned to a farm near Hanceville, where he spent much of his childhood surrounded by the sounds of the American South.
These were formative years. The hymns of Southern churches, Sacred Harp singing traditions, African American musical influences, and popular songs of the 1930s and 1940s all became part of his musical vocabulary. At the time, he probably had little reason to suspect that the everyday music of his childhood would eventually provide the foundation for his life's work.
Ashwander began studying piano in high school and later attended Sacred Heart College in Cullman and Birmingham-Southern College. But Alabama could only contain his musical ambitions for so long.
In 1948, at the age of nineteen, he headed north to New York City and enrolled at the prestigious Manhattan School of Music.
It was a fascinating time to arrive in New York. Classical music and popular music occupied largely separate worlds, each with its own performers, audiences, institutions, and expectations. The city's concert halls celebrated the European masters and contemporary academic composers, while jazz clubs, theaters, and smaller performance venues offered an entirely different musical experience.
Ashwander was interested in both worlds, but he wasn't entirely comfortable in either.
At the Manhattan School of Music, he became highly skilled in musical notation and developed a solid foundation in theory and composition. Yet the prevailing academic trends of the period, particularly twelve-tone and serial techniques, held little attraction for him.
He respected the discipline of classical composition but questioned why an American composer should feel obligated to write in a musical language that seemed so far removed from his own experiences.
He began asking himself a deceptively simple question: What would his music sound like if it grew naturally from the world he knew?
The answer would take years to discover.
An Unconventional Musical Education
After completing his studies, Ashwander found himself facing the difficult realities familiar to many aspiring composers: artistic ambition was one thing, but paying the bills was quite another.
Rather than surrendering his musical aspirations, he returned to Alabama and took whatever work he could find. He worked in shipyards, served in the merchant marine, and performed in bars and cocktail lounges along the Gulf Coast.
On paper, these jobs might seem like distractions from the serious business of composition. Ashwander eventually came to see them quite differently.
Working outside the conventional musical establishment brought him into contact with people, places, and experiences that no conservatory education could have provided. The music he heard, the conversations he had, and the lives he observed became part of his creative world.
Through it all, he continued composing.
He also began reconsidering the musical traditions he had once taken for granted. Sacred Harp hymns, Southern folk music, early jazz, ragtime, and the popular songs of his youth suddenly took on new significance. They were no longer simply the familiar sounds of home. They were the raw materials of a distinctly personal musical language.
For Ashwander, the challenge was to transform those influences into something original without sacrificing their essential character.
It was a slow and sometimes frustrating process. He had no interest in producing fashionable academic music, but he was equally unwilling to spend his life chasing commercial success.
As he later recalled, he sometimes felt he belonged to neither world.
Nevertheless, the years of experimentation were gradually producing results. By the time he reached his late thirties, Ashwander began to recognize that the musical language he had been searching for was finally taking shape.
And ragtime would play a central role in that discovery.
A Telephone Call That Changed Everything
One of the most delightful stories in Ashwander's career concerns a piano, a telephone, and a little old-fashioned nerve.
Ashwander had long admired They All Played Ragtime, the influential history of ragtime written by Rudi Blesh and Harriet Janis in 1950. The book had helped rescue the music of Scott Joplin, James Scott, Joseph Lamb, and other ragtime pioneers from decades of neglect.
After returning to New York in the 1960s, Ashwander composed one of his earliest rags, appropriately titled Friday Night, because that was when he finished writing it.
The following morning, still thinking about the composition, he looked up Rudi Blesh in the New York telephone directory.
And there he was.
Ashwander called the distinguished music historian, introduced himself, and explained that he had written a new rag. When Blesh expressed interest, Ashwander offered to play the piece for him—right there over the telephone!
It was hardly the ideal listening environment, and Ashwander later admitted that his own performance was somewhat shaky. Nevertheless, Blesh heard enough to recognize that something interesting was happening.
The two arranged to meet the following afternoon at the home of jazz historian Marshall Stearns, where Ashwander could perform his composition on a proper piano.
That meeting began one of the most important friendships of Ashwander's life. Blesh became a mentor, advocate, and enthusiastic supporter of his music, a relationship that continued until Blesh's death in 1985.
In 1966, a revised edition of They All Played Ragtime included two of Ashwander's early compositions, Friday Night and Business in Town. Their inclusion was significant: alongside the historic works of ragtime's pioneers were new compositions demonstrating that the tradition was still very much alive.
Blesh later championed Ashwander's music through recordings, including the 1971 Jazzology album Ragtime: A New View.
For Ashwander, the recognition was encouraging. But more importantly, he had found someone who understood what he was trying to accomplish.
Ragtime with a Different Point of View
What makes Donald Ashwander's piano music so fascinating is that it simultaneously embraces and challenges the traditions of classical ragtime.
At first hearing, many of his compositions seem comfortably familiar. There are syncopated melodies, lively rhythms, and the recognizable structural patterns associated with Joplin and his contemporaries.
But listen a little longer, and unexpected things begin to happen.
Harmonies wander into unfamiliar territory. Melodies become reflective or melancholy. A cheerful rhythmic figure may give way to an unsettling passage, only to emerge later with an entirely different emotional character.
Ashwander understood that the characteristic bounce of ragtime didn't necessarily require the music to be cheerful.
Consider Mobile Carnival Rag-Tango, a composition inspired by the festive atmosphere of Mardi Gras on the Gulf Coast. What begins with the promise of celebration takes a surprisingly introspective turn, introducing a darker emotional world through its tango influences.
Other compositions reveal different sides of his personality.
Astor Place Rag Waltz evokes the history and atmosphere of a New York neighborhood rich with memories. Peacock Colors explores more adventurous musical textures, while Perdido Bay Moon Rag brings a distinctive lyrical quality to the familiar ragtime idiom.
Then there are works such as Empty Porches and Forgotten Ballrooms, whose titles alone suggest a composer fascinated by memory, passing time, and the emotional resonance of places that have changed or disappeared.
Ashwander's music frequently blurs the boundaries between ragtime, classical composition, jazz, and American folk traditions. Some pieces are unmistakably rags; others seem closer to miniature tone poems or intimate musical recollections.
What unites them is a recognizable artistic personality.
There is humor in his music, certainly, but also tenderness, irony, longing, and sometimes profound sadness. His compositions are never merely technical exercises or affectionate imitations of the past. They often feel like personal stories told through the piano.
Perhaps that is why Ashwander's music remains so rewarding for pianists to explore. Behind the syncopation and clever construction lies a composer with something genuinely human to say.
From the Ragtime Piano to the Royal Ballet
Ashwander's growing reputation eventually carried his music far beyond the traditional ragtime community.
One particularly notable achievement came in 1974, when choreographer Kenneth MacMillan incorporated Friday Night into his ballet Elite Syncopations, created for London's Royal Ballet.
The production premiered at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden on October 7, 1974, and featured music by ragtime composers including Scott Joplin, James Scott, Joseph Lamb, Max Morath, and Ashwander.
For a composer who had once performed his first rag over a telephone, hearing that same music become part of a major ballet production must have represented a remarkable milestone.
Ashwander continued composing and recording throughout the following decades, producing works that increasingly reflected his broad musical interests.
His contributions earned recognition from ASCAP and other organizations, while his reputation grew among performers and enthusiasts of contemporary ragtime.
Yet his most widely recognized professional role had little to do with the concert hall.
It involved a children's theater company and an extraordinary collection of musical instruments.
A Serious Composer Who Loved to Make Children Laugh
In 1966, Ashwander joined The Paper Bag Players, a New York-based children's theater company known for its wonderfully imaginative productions.
Founded in 1958, the company built its performances around everyday objects, inventive storytelling, movement, comedy, and music. Its sets and props often employed ordinary materials such as paper bags, cardboard, and household items, transformed through the imagination of the performers.
It was a perfect environment for a musician with Ashwander's creativity and sense of humor.
As resident composer, musical director, lyricist, and performer, Ashwander became an essential part of the company's identity.
He initially accompanied performances on the piano but eventually adopted the electric harpsichord, an instrument whose distinctive sound became closely associated with the group's productions. He also employed slide whistles, kazoos, rhythm instruments, and an assortment of other unlikely musical devices.
One might reasonably wonder what an electric harpsichord and a kazoo have in common with sophisticated ragtime composition.
For Ashwander, the answer was simple: both could be used to make wonderful music.
His theater scores were playful, rhythmically inventive, and perfectly suited to the unpredictable world of children's entertainment. Audiences responded enthusiastically, and his music became inseparable from the company's distinctive character.
The Paper Bag Players received numerous honors, including recognition from the New York State Governor's Office, the American Theater Association, and the American Alliance for Theatre and Education.
Ashwander remained with the company for twenty-eight years, balancing his theatrical responsibilities with his work as a serious composer.
The contrast between these two musical worlds was not nearly as great as it might appear.
Both demanded imagination, originality, and a willingness to experiment. Both allowed him to communicate directly with an audience. And both reflected his belief that music should be rooted in genuine human experience rather than imposed artistic conventions.
In His Own Words: Finding a Musical Identity
Perhaps the clearest explanation of Ashwander's artistic philosophy comes from the composer himself.
On May 1, 1989, writing in Brooklyn, he reflected on the long and sometimes difficult journey toward discovering his personal musical language.
His words reveal the patience, self-doubt, determination, and eventual satisfaction that shaped his creative life.
"At Manhattan School of Music, I became adept at musical notation. I was not interested, however, in writing music in the 'International Style' which was the accepted academic mode of the time (1951). I realized that none of the musical languages I had studied would be right for me as a composer.
If, as I had planned, I was going to spend my life composing music, I would have to try to derive a viable language from my very American but seemingly fragile musical legacy.
The attempt to understand this legacy led me to relisten, with new purpose, to the hymns, Sacred Harp music, Southern black music and the popular music of the 1930's and 40's that had been the throwaways of my growing-up years. My efforts to define personal musical roots led me back through the spectrum of American music to its beginnings.
The process I found myself in seemed to be very slow-growing, requiring much patience. But I felt that this process would eventually result in a music that was truly myself, and firmly anchored to the world I knew.
The necessity of making a livelihood led me away from the New York musical into the world of the shipyard worker, the merchant seaman, the cocktail and piano-bar pianist and other more or less interesting stop-gaps. Instead of being detrimental, these new experiences away from the New York musical scene were nourishing. Musical composition continued to be the core of my life.
I deeply wanted my music to be liked, but a life spent chasing the will-o'-the-wisp of the popular hit was definitely not for me. When well-meaning family and friends would suggest that this was the only 'realistic' course to be taken in this day and age, I would instantly be thrown into a profound and morbid depression. At times, it seemed I was neither fish nor fowl - fitting into neither the academic nor the commercial world. Those were dark moments.
It was not until my late thirties that it began to dawn on me that the musical language and method of work I had struggled over had begun to materialize. That was a very fine time for me, filled with assurance and contentment. The process continues."
Those final three words—"The process continues"—are especially revealing.
Even after decades of composing, recording, and performing, Ashwander did not consider his artistic journey complete. He remained curious about where his music might take him next.
An Unexpected Farewell
Donald Ashwander's life came to a sudden and heartbreaking end on October 26, 1994.
He was preparing for a performance with members of The Paper Bag Players when he died unexpectedly at the age of sixty-five.
His death was a tremendous loss, not only to the ragtime community but also to generations of children who had grown up enjoying his music.
His niece, Sharon Moore, later expressed the family's sense that Ashwander still had much more to accomplish:
"He died too soon, only 65. I know he had every intention to write more, perform more, do more CDs. I feel he was at his peak and the older he got the better he would become. He was always exploring."
It is a touching observation, and one that seems entirely consistent with Ashwander's own description of his artistic life as a continuing process of discovery.
In January 1995, Charles Osgood paid tribute to Ashwander on CBS Sunday Morning, including him in the program's annual salute to heroes.
Osgood's farewell captured the remarkable combination of artistic seriousness and playful imagination that defined Ashwander's career:
"He was, in fact, a serious composer, but a couple of generations of children loved him because onstage with The Paper Bag Players, he was anything but serious. Goodbye to a hero of glee."
Few composers could hope for a more affectionate tribute.
A Musical Legacy Worth Rediscovering
Although Ashwander enjoyed considerable recognition during his lifetime, much of his piano music remained unpublished when he died.
Fortunately, his family and musical colleagues worked to ensure that his compositions would not disappear.
In 1996, the Ashwander family released The Music of Donald Ashwander, Volume I, a collection of ten compositions drawn from his manuscripts and unreleased recordings. A second volume followed in 1998, making another twenty works available to performers.
These publications helped preserve an important body of American piano music and introduced new generations of pianists to a composer whose work had remained largely outside the mainstream concert repertoire.
Recordings have also played a vital role in keeping his music alive, including the collection Sunshine and Shadow, which offers a particularly revealing portrait of Ashwander as both performer and composer.
Today, his compositions remain an important chapter in the story of contemporary American ragtime.
He helped establish that ragtime could be more than a nostalgic reminder of turn-of-the-century America. It could express complex emotions, accommodate adventurous harmonies, and draw freely from the extraordinary variety of American musical traditions.
But perhaps Ashwander's greatest achievement was something more personal.
He spent much of his life searching for a musical voice that belonged entirely to him. He resisted the temptation to imitate fashionable academic styles or to abandon his artistic instincts in pursuit of commercial popularity.
Instead, he followed his curiosity—through Alabama farms, New York jazz clubs, Gulf Coast cocktail lounges, merchant ships, children's theaters, and countless hours at the piano.
The result was music that sounds like no one else's.
Donald Ashwander may have described himself simply as a ragtime piano player, but his compositions reveal an artist of considerable imagination, emotional depth, and originality.
And somewhere in the space between the infectious bounce of a rag and the bittersweet memory of a forgotten ballroom, he found precisely what he had been searching for: a musical language that was unmistakably his own.
Selected Performances
Dove In The Window (1970): "Dove In The Window" is a shining example of Ashwander's distinctive and thoroughly Americana musical voice. The title itself conjures imagery of a peaceful scene, where a dove perches by an open window, bringing with it a sense of serenity and hope. Ashwander's composition captures the essence of this image through its melodic grace and harmonic warmth.
For pianists, the piece offers a rewarding exploration of Ashwander's musical vision. The piece demands a nuanced and expressive performance, with attention to the delicate interplay of melody and harmony. It is a composition that allows performers to connect with the heart of Americana and to convey the depth and richness of Ashwander's musical storytelling.
Forgotten Ballrooms (1983): "Forgotten Ballrooms," pays tribute to the burgeoning preservation movement in America that has breathed new life into abandoned and historically significant structures. In the not-so-distant past, only a select few possessed the sophistication to recognize the beauty and historical significance of seemingly ordinary places such as derelict railway depots or 1920s filling stations. Today, however, there are people discovering, restoring, and utilizing these architectural gems. This newfound reverence for the past has given rise to a unique breed of enthusiasts who engage in what can only be described as ballroom archaeology.
"Forgotten Ballrooms" takes inspiration from this rarefied and dedicated movement of ballroom archaeologists. Throughout the country, these individuals venture into the hidden corners of history, opening doors to ghostly rooms that resonate with the echoes of bygone dramas and memories long past. As the pianist embarks on this musical journey, they evoke the palpable atmospheres of these once-vibrant spaces, now shrouded in the mists of time.
The compositions syncopated rhythms, playful melodies, and intricate harmonies pay homage to the era when these ballrooms were the centers of social life and entertainment. Yet, there is an underlying sense of nostalgia and longing, as if the music itself yearns to recapture the forgotten stories and dances of the past.
Through Ashwander's musical tribute, we are reminded of the enduring power of history, culture, and the resolute spirit of those who seek to preserve the memories and grandeur of America's forgotten ballrooms.
Old Streets (1971): "Old Streets takes listeners on a poignant journey through the corridors of memory and nostalgia. American jazz critic Rudi Blesh once remarked about Ashwander's music, stating that he "draws on memory and the unconscious, a remembrance of things past." "Old Streets" embodies this sentiment, offering a musical narrative that transports us to a bygone era, evoking the charm and character of old Southern houses nestled behind ancient trees.
Ashwander not only composes a melody but also paints a vivid musical portrait of a bygone era. Through its enchanting harmonies and evocative phrasing, the piece becomes a vessel for the recollection of cherished memories and the spirit of places long gone.
Wax Paper Dance (1967): This charming piece was created for The Paper Bag Players, a renowned non-profit theater company dedicated to providing enriching and imaginative theatrical experiences for children. Founded in 1958, The Paper Bag Players have a long history of captivating young audiences with their unique productions, and "Wax Paper Dance" serves as a musical testament to their mission.
The piece is a reminder of the vital role that music plays in enhancing storytelling and creating memorable experiences for young audiences. It reflects Ashwander's expertise in crafting syncopated melodies reminiscent of his ragtime compositions. The piece's spirited and playful nature invites listeners to participate in a musical dance, mirroring the enchanting and imaginative world of children's theater.
"Wax Paper Dance" not only serves as a testament to Donald Ashwander's musical creativity but also as a musical companion to the magical productions of The Paper Bag Players, enriching the lives of young audiences through the power of music and storytelling.
To hear more of Ashwander's music, be sure to check out the Donald Ashwander Playlist on my American Piano Music YouTube channel.
The Donald Ashwander Recording Project
In July of 2024, I travelled to Gulf Shores, Alabama at the invitation of Sharon Moore (Ashwander's niece) and Judy Moore (Ashwander's sister). The purpose of the visit was to go through all of Donald Ashwander's hand-written manuscripts in order to locate all of his solo piano music. After a full day of going through everything, we located 70 complete compositions for solo piano. I'm happy to announce that I will be recording all of these pieces for a 4-volume release of "Donald Ashwander: The Complete Works for Solo Piano." Below are some pictures of my trip, including one of me sitting at Ashwander's personal piano - the same one he used to compose all this wonderful music.
Locating the Music
Donald Ashwander's music can be purchased from either Sheet Music Direct or Sheet Music Plus.
List of Piano Compositions
Friday Night (1965)
The Ragtime Pierrot (1965)
The Winter Fields (1966)
Voices, Voices (1966)
Upstairs Rag (1966)
Harlem River Houseboat Rag (1966)
Gayola Rag (1966)
Mobile Carnival Rag-Tango (1966)
Late Hours Rag (1966)
Sea Oats (1966)
Business in Town (1966)
Astor Place Rag Waltz (1966)
Second Floor Front (1967)
Peacock Colors (1967)
Radiating Star (1967)
Okra Rag (1967)
Perdido Bay Moon Rag - Version 1 (1967)
Alabama Backroads (1967)
The Moon Walk (1969)
Empty Porches (1969)
Radiating Star (1970)
Traditional Patterns (1970-71)
Grand Central (1971)
Old Streets (1971)
Waterloo Rag (1972)
Threnody (1972)
Mulberry (1972)
Reason’s Fee (1972)
Causeway Blues (1972)
Cascade Plunge (1973)
Turnips (1973)
First Avenue (1973)
Bay Breeze (1973)
Little Saints Hopping (1973)
Saratoga Rag (1974)
October (1974)
Sunday Night, Manhattan (1975)
Houston Street (1975)
Summer Garden (1976)
We Danced (1976)
Bicycle Race (1977)
The Garden at Night (1977)
Here and Gone (1977)
Grand Central (1977)
Nocturne in E (1959, revised in 1979)
Evanescence (1979)
The Spider’s Transformation (1979)
Street Corner Pierrot
Request (1979)
Playgrounds (1982)
Weekday Songs (1982)
East River Lights (1983)
Forgotten Ballrooms (1983)
Brooklyn Start and Stop (1984)
On the High Wire (1985)
Moving Man (1988)
Perdido Bay Moon Rag - Version 2 (1988)
Illicit Demands (1989)
Required Responses (1990)
Yard Sale Rag (1992)
