Music Credits: “NY” composed and performed by Kosta T, from the cd Soul Sand. Used courtesy of the Free Music Archive.
Terence Blanchard, Live at Monterey Jazz Festival, 2023. “The Water” from the album A Tale of God’s Will (a requiem for Hurricane Katrina). Composed and performed by Terence Blanchard. “I Dare You” from the album Absence Composed by Terence Blanchard, performed by the Turtle Island Quartet. “Peculiar Grace” from the opera, Fire Shut Up In my Bones. Music composed by Terence Blanchard, libretto by Kasi Lemmons, sung by Angel Blue, Metropolitan Opera, 09/27/2021.

Jo Reed: From the National Endowment for the Arts, this is Art Works I’m Josephine Reed. This is part two of my 2023 conversation with NEA Jazz Master Terence Blanchard. In our last episode, we explored his early years in New Orleans, his time with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, and his evolution as a composer and bandleader. Today, we continue the conversation by looking at the many ways Terence has expanded his artistry—with his groups, through opera, and his role as artistic director of SFJAZZ. We’ll talk about his album Absence dedicated to NEA Jazz Master Wayne Shorter, and how composing for opera pushed him into new creative territory. We’ll also explore his passion for music education and the ways he’s helped shape the next generation of jazz musicians. But first, we turn to one of the most defining moments of his life both personally and artistically—Hurricane Katrina. In 2005, Hurricane Katrina hit the United States killing over 1,800 people and devastating much of New Orleans. Katrina and its aftermath became the subject of Spike Lee’s four-part documentary, When the Levees Broke, which was scored by Terence. Terence was living in LA [Los Angeles] as well as New Orleans and brought his family, including his mother, to California before the hurricane hit. Their return to New Orleans became a part of the documentary.

Terence Blanchard: When we did When the Levees Broke, man, it was tough. It was tough for a lot of reasons. We were living uptown at the time, and the house that we had there, we didn't have water damage. We had broken windows because of the wind, and got all of that repaired. But what was crazy about that was when I worked on 4 Little Girls and the visuals of that and the storyline, when it would get too heavy for me, I would take a break and I would come down and hang out or go to the park, go bike riding or whatever. I couldn't do that when the levies broke, because I was really stepping right into what it was I was looking at in my studio. So that was a rough time. And then to go through the thing of taking my mom back to the house was probably one of the hardest things I had to do other than bury my father, because she was holding out hope that nothing had happened to the house, and I had already been to the house. I went the night before just on my own, and I saw the devastation, and I couldn't say anything to her. I had to let her experience it herself. 

It was rough. That was hard. Spike didn't even come in. He stayed outside. It was hard for everybody that was there. We worked together, but we're family. You know what I mean? And they're seeing my house that I grew up in destroyed. But then when I started to see the documentary, I was totally amazed at what Spike put together. Initially, it was supposed to be a two-hour documentary, two hours, but there was so much information, we couldn't leave it there. We just had to expand it. But our budget stayed at a two-hour budget. So basically, we all worked for free at a certain point, but we were all committed to it. And I told Spike this, and it's probably one of the most comprehensive things I've ever seen done on this area, because there's so many different cultures and facets here. He had all of those things combined in this one piece. And that's the way that I tried to approach it in scoring it. But the most important thing was I was just thankful for him to do it.

Jo Reed: But then you also came out with the album A Tale of God's Will: A Requiem for Katrina building on some of the themes you used in When The Levees Broke.

Terence Blanchard: Yes.

Jo Reed: Tell me about the story that you felt like you wanted to tell with that album.

Terence Blanchard: Well, it was more that I couldn't get past the whole notion of what had happened to my city. Just seeing all that type of stuff in your hometown, it's something you never imagine, you never want to see again. But then it just frustrates you. And while I appreciated what Spike had done, I felt like I needed to make my own statement about it. And we started working on it, and the guys were creating their tunes and arrangements, and there was so much magic that was happening. It was crazy. I don't know who said it first, and I can't remember, but one of us started chanting, “this is a tale of God's will.” It just came out nowhere. We didn't have a title for the album at all. And once that started to happen, man, everything just started to fall into place for that album. And when we released that album, people were telling us how the music had affected them and how it helped them get through the grieving process.

Jo Reed: And A Tale of God's Will was the first Grammy you won as a leader.

Terence Blanchard: Yeah, it was interesting, the Tale of God. It was interesting because A Tale of God's Will was the first Grammy that I'd ever won in my life as a leader. And it was powerful. It just meant a lot because we didn't create the album for that. You know what I mean? But being recognized still meant a lot. So it was a powerful moment in time, for sure.

Jo Reed: And you addressed the impact of Katrina through your role as an educator….The Monk Institute is a multi-faceted organization dedicated to music education and you were instrumental in bringing the institute to New Orleans.

Terence Blanchard: Yeah. When I worked with The Monk Institute, I loved all of the work that we would do in the high schools. Granted, I love working with the students themselves. They were semi-pro soon to be pro musicians. But I was really excited about sending those guys out into the high schools and middle schools. So when we talked about bringing it to New Orleans, that meant a lot to me because I knew at that time that there were kids that were suffering, struggling here. When you go through something that's traumatic like that, I went through Hurricane Betsy as a kid. I remember stepping off of my porch being picked up. I was about four years old being picked up and put into a boat. And (we) couldn't find my dad for a couple of days, and we were staying in somebody's front room of a house sleeping on the floor. So come on, I'm four years old and I still have that's stuck in my head. So I knew that there were kids here that were in dire straits, right? And I also knew that music could probably be one of the things to help them. So that's why I wanted the Monk Institute to come to New Orleans. And sure enough, when we started sending our kids out into the high schools and the middle schools, they started to help a lot of kids here.

That's what my life turned around in terms of why I create music. When you see the power in it and how it can help people deal with these tough topics like this, you start to feel a responsibility to address these things, because all of my mentors are gone. You look around and you go, well, who else is here but us? So we need to address this stuff.

Jo Reed: But of course, you more than anyone are capable of doing more than one thing simultaneously. And the album Absence is your love letter to Wayne Shorter, it features your group E-Collective and The Turtle Island Quartet and I think it needs some flowers in this conversation.

Terence Blanchard: No, thank you for saying that. Man, I love Wayne Shorter so much that I had to do something to let him know that before he passed, and the thing about doing an album for Wayne, which is the way him and Herbie both are, they don't want you to just do their tunes. No. What do you see? How do you see it? How do you perceive it? What's your idea? You know what I mean? So we did a mixture of some of his tunes and some originals. And man, we got a chance to go and hang out with Wayne before we recorded. Now, I had been around Wayne a number of times. Obviously I've been on him for a long time. But some of the guys in the group, it was their first time being around him. And Wayne is the type of dude, he just gives you a life lesson of just a general conversation. And I'll never forget when we left the house, we were standing outside the house. We hadn't gone anywhere. And the guys were like, "Thank you, man. Thank you for this. Thank you, thank you."

Jo Reed: You talk about life lessons. Please, please convey the one where he said to you, “It takes courage to be happy.” Because I read that, and that was a life lesson for me. Like fourth hand.

Terence Blanchard: Right? Yeah. Well, I was playing at the New Orleans Jazz Festival. Jazz and Heritage Festival, and Wayne was there. And just in typical fashion, I don't even know how the subject came up, he starts to tell me about some violinist who never would win an audition for an orchestra, because she played real aggressive, and her style didn't mix with other string players. And she had gotten to the point of having so much rejection that she was at a low point in her life, almost at a point where she wanted to commit suicide. And her mother called her, and just like any mom could hear something was wrong with her child, and her child wouldn't say anything. And then the mom goes, “Well, it takes courage to be happy.” And when Wayne told me that story, man, I had been trying to, the best way I can explain it is that I was trying to live up to an image that wasn't real. It wasn't me. It was what I thought a jazz musician should be, right? And man, when he said that, it was like something was lifted off to my shoulders. And I went, "Oh, Right. It takes courage to be happy."
It brought me back to something that a great musician in New Orleans, Alvin Baptiste, said to me, he said, "Man, the easiest thing to do is to learn how to play like John Coltrane." He says, "Because everybody loves John Coltrane." He said, "The hardest thing to do is to be yourself. But that's what being an artist really is." So when Wayne told me that story, my mind went right back to that, and I went, right, okay. So now the question becomes, so then who am I really? Who am I really? I had been already moving down that road, but I was trying to fit it within an aesthetic. And when Wayne told me that the walls came tumbling down, everything became a possibility for me then.

Jo Reed: The composition you wrote for the album Absence is “I Dare You.” And that's an important title, a very significant one.

Terence Blanchard: Yeah, it's a very important title for a number of reasons, because the tune itself, it's a tune that I'd written to prove a point to my students about. You can make a tune out of two notes. (Terence scats)

Jo Reed: I kept thinking of Beethoven's Fifth.

Terence Blanchard: Okay, well, okay, okay. Right. Okay. So what's funny about that is that when I introduced it to the audience, we play a stretch of tunes, and I try to remind 'em of what they heard. And I said, "Do you remember that kind of funky Beethoven us thing that we start with?" I said, "That's one of my tunes." And what's crazy about that to me is because that the introduction was written the morning of the day, we recorded that introduction was written the morning of the day. We recorded the tune because I noticed we didn't have anything for, I said, "I woke up early one morning." I said, "We need something for this beginning of the tune." So I wrote that string introduction that morning and brought it in. And the title comes from something that Wayne said when he was asked by Tavis Smiley, what does jazz mean? And Wayne said, “Jazz means I dare you.” And it was another one of those life lessons you say, I dare you. And I'm like, "See, that's what I'm talking about. It takes courage to be happy. I dare you." You know what I mean? And it's one of those things where in the Buddhist philosophy is like to fight, to fight for your potential. To keep moving ahead. Wayne was a prime example of that. So it's kind of how I'm trying to live my life through his examples.

Jo Reed: What led to you composing opera? Were you fulfilling this suppressed longing?

Terence Blanchard: Oh, man. No way. No way. When it came to writing opera, that was not something that was even on the plate whatsoever. I always tell a joke, when Jim Robinson came and asked me, he said, we want you to write an opera. I kind of leaned across the table to smell his breath. I'm like, is this dude drunk? What's going on, man? You want me to write an opera? That's some of the funniest stuff I've ever heard. But I got to tell you though, I'm always up for a challenge. So I called Roger Dickerson again, "Roger, they want me to do this." Boom. And once I started, it was, man, it was such a journey because I didn't know what I was doing, but I kept saying to myself, just write what feels right. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, you still have another career.

Jo Reed: And Jim Robinson was artistic director of Opera Theatre of St Louis?

Terence Blanchard: Yes. And opera theater, St. Louis man, they were amazing. They really stepped me through the process. You work workshopping it, dealing with the voices, understanding when music should be turned in, understanding how to do a piano vocal score so we could rehearse. And then finally getting down to the final thing, man, it was a process, but the payoff is so incredible. I can't explain it to you. You sit in a room, you sit at a piano by yourself for two years crafting this story, and you kind of see images in your mind. But then all of a sudden, there are people who are singing these lines like sound familiar to you. And they're walking around the stage, and all of a sudden now they have costumes on and there's lighting. It blows my mind. So I've been telling people recently, "I'm looking forward to doing my third opera now," but probably when I'm in the middle of it, I'm going to be like, "Man, what the hell was I thinking?"

Jo Reed: Well, your first opera was Champion based on the life of Emil Griffith who was a boxer and he was gay. What attracted you to that story?

Terence Blanchard: I found out about Emil Griffith from my best friend, and he knows I'm a fight fan. And he had talked to me about Emile Griffith, and he told me about the book Nine, Ten and Out. So I think the thing that got me about Emile's story, I thought about the time that I won my first Grammy They called my name. I turned to my wife without thinking, give her a kiss and a hug, and I go up and receive my award. And I'm thinking, this guy became welterweight champion of the world and could never really celebrate that openly with anybody that he loved. Makes no sense to me. And what was beautiful about doing it with opera theater St. Louis, is that in order to promote the opera, we did a lot of civic stuff. I went to a lot of organizations, spoke to them, the gay and lesbian community, the sport in the sports world. We had panel discussions. We did a lot of stuff. And it brought everybody out in St. Louis to experience it. People from the health community that deal with dementia, they were there. And everybody was just thankful that there was something that treated these topics with dignity and allowed us to talk about.

So that, again, was a powerful thing for me. But the most important thing was I got hooked. I hate to say it, I hate to say it, Jim, but I got hooked. You know what I mean? I don't consider myself an opera composer, and they keep telling me, "Dude, you're an opera composer. Get over it." I am hooked on how it all comes together. My favorite part is when we get into the theater in rehearsal and you see it and you can kind of understand what's going on, but they don't have the wardrobe yet lighting. And when you get into the theater and the lights and the, oh my God, and it just starts to come, and then it really doesn't really pop until that performance, the premiere. There's something that happens to those guys when that curtain goes up, boom. They click into another world, man with all of a sudden everything just gets raised up a notch, and it's an amazing experience to have in your life. 

Jo Reed: I have to think that all your experience in scoring films really helped you when it came for you to sit down with an opera.

Terence Blanchard: My experience in the film world helped me tremendously in the operatic world because I wasn't so concerned about writing for orchestra. I had that under my belt, and creating sonic colors for certain situations was fine. The problem was writing for voice. And the most problematic part is different from singing to singing. They can all be sopranos, but they're different. Sopranos all be baritones and all be different. So that part was the part that took some time to learn. But when you learn that for a specific singer, oh man, it turns everything around. Just knowing, knowing the abilities of the singers to be able to do those things, that's when the storytelling process really becomes a big deal. I'm a big Puccini fan, and the thing that I love about Puccini is that I love how the melody line develops with the story. They're intertwined, and that's what I've been trying to do. I also try to make the musical lines feel natural. So I would spend a lot of time, I would spend a lot of time reading the libretto out loud, and when I would read the libretto out loud, I would hear the rhythms and what it was that I was reading, and I would write that under the libretto. One of the other things that I had to learn about the human voice is that being a trumpet player, to hit those high notes, we have to hit those on demand. Right? Well, with singers, they can do that, but a lot of times they want to run up to the note. So you have to take that into consideration when you're writing, especially if you want it to be big at a certain point of the storyline. All those things play a factor in how you develop your melody lines.

Jo Reed: Well, Champion was very well received, and then comes opera number two. Fire Shut Up in My Bones based on the memoir by Charles Blow. So what is the origin story for that particular opera?

Terence Blanchard: My wife knew of the book Fire Shut Up in My Bones and asked me to read it. I was floored by a few things in the book. First I, I'm a big fan of Charles Blow, loved his writing, loved him as a commentator. Still think he's probably one of the smartest people out there. But then you read the book and you go, man, he's from Gibbon, Louisiana. Oh man. And then you find out that he was molested as a kid, and you go, wow, that was unfortunate. But then you look at his life and you go, but that dude came through that in a way that's so impressive. We have to do this story.

Jo Reed: Fire In My Bones opened in 2019 at the Opera Theater of St. Louis, and then you get a phone call from the Metropolitan Opera.

Terence Blanchard: Yeah, I get a phone call from a friend of mine named Peter Gelb, and he goes, “Hey man, we want to do your opera at the Met”. And I went, "Excuse me." You have to remember, I never really saddled up for this musical journey in my life. So while this is all taken off this, it's kind of unreal for me in a sense. Then all of a sudden now, the production has gone from being this one little thing to being this huge production at The Met. I remember walking into the rehearsal for the first day, and it was about 50 singers in the room, and I went, "Whoa." And I'm the only dude in there that couldn't sing. You know what I mean? It was like, oh, man. But the beautiful thing about it was everybody was on the same page as to the purpose, the importance of it. We had a round table discussion the first day of rehearsal, and there was a lot of tears, a lot of tears, people saying things like, this is the first role they've ever done that they can relate to. One of the young kids said it gave him hope because he was bullied at school because he wanted to be an opera singer, but he felt safe in our community. He was around so many people like him. I knew this, but it didn't really click until I had a conversation with the late Arthur Woodley, who was a great baritone, and we were talking about how a lot of African American singers grew up in a church or sang R&B or jazz, and they were told to turn all of that off to sing opera. And then it hit me that day of that first day at a rehearsal where we had the round table. I'm like, wait a minute. This is a current story. This is an American story. So I told the singers, I said, listen, whatever your background is, bring all of that to this man in Angel Blue. She did it on this aria “Peculiar Grace”. She asked me, are you okay with me doing some things? I'm like, sure. Because she grew up in a church singing a church. Lemme tell you something. When she sang, I think in rehearsal, everybody was in tears. It was powerful. I think what she sang was beautiful. Don't get me wrong. But I think the reason why we were all in tears was because it was like we've been avoiding this for how long? But it made total sense, and it was who she was as a person who has a deep faith, and man that turned everything around, turned everything around for everybody 

Jo Reed: Fire Shut Up in My Bones opened the 2021–22 season at the Metropolitan Opera—the first opera staged there after the long Covid closure and it was first opera by a Black composer to be performed by the Met, ever. Which shocked the hell out of everybody so for you, it had to have been on one hand "Oh my God, my opera is at the Met and like, oh my God, are you kidding me?"

Terence Blanchard: Oh, definitely. That was definitely it. I was like, I was at the Met. It was just incredible. And then I'm like, I forgot the journalist who called me, he said, "How do you feel being the first African-American to have an opera at the Met?" I'm like, "What?" I didn't believe him. I'm like, go back and check that. That can't be true. Then not only was it true, but then I'm doing an interview on television and they bring me a ledger of operas that were rejected and William Grant Still's name is in there three times. Three times. And I had just heard one of those operas the summer before in St. Louis and thought it was hip and amazing. Didn't know what it was. I'm like, well, man, what is this? And they said, oh, that's William Grant Still's Highway 1. I went, man, that's kind of cool. I love that. So the thing that was so crazy about that period in my life, I kept telling people, man, okay, I'm the first African American to have an opera at the Met, but I'm not the first qualified African American to have an opera at the Met. Let's just be real about it. They were many other guys who were well qualified to have that moniker. So while I'm proud of it, but it comes with a mixed bag of emotions. Opera is the highest form of musical theater you could ever experience. That's the way I look at it, and I think with all of the talent out there, man, the possibilities are endless to create stories and tell stories that could be really intriguing to a fan base.

Jo Reed: What was opening night like at the Met? What was the feeling like in that house, on the stage?

Terence Blanchard: I was emotionally just blown away at the level of support that was shown to us. People came out dressed to the nines. It was incredible. And I had never been that nervous before in my life, because this is the Met. This thing could really bomb. But when those guys started to sing, I felt like I was in good hands, if that makes sense. I knew that they were stepping up to the plate. They understood what was at stake. Right. And like I said, everything went up a notch. Everything went up a notch. All the performances to such a degree where I felt weird coming out to take a bow at the end of it. You know what I mean? I just put some notes on the page, those people that went out there and performed and did it. But to see the response from the crowd, There were so many people who had never been to the Met before, never been to opera before, who came. They were excited about it. It was probably one of the most diverse audiences they've ever seen at the Met. And one of the things that we learned is that those first timers bought tickets to other shows.

Jo Reed: You are passionate about education.

Terence Blanchard: Yes.

Jo Reed: You have a whole career as an educator. Talk about why this is central to your artistic life.

Terence Blanchard: I am the beneficiary of great teachers and great programs as well. New Orleans Center for the Creative Arts, all of the summer programs that I went to at Loyola University. Without those things, I don't know where I would be. And I see now, excuse me, I see now how important they are because we don't have a situation where guys are learning on the streets. Some people are, but guys are coming to these bands well prepared because of these systems. The guys in my jazz band with Kendrick Scott and some of those guys, they all went to Arch High School. Those arch high schools really helped shape their careers and gave them strong musical foundations, which allowed them to go out and grow and prosper. When Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans and there was talk of taking music out of the schools, I lost it. I'm like, who would ever think of such a thing? I remember they did a study and they found that kids
who were involved in music did better in math and science, just in general. So just from a productive point of view, the arts really help us develop another side of our brain. And I'd like to think that it helps us to develop the compassionate side of us–that along with these experiences as musicians, allow us to create music to help people heal. But as patrons, it allows you to get from, like Art Blakely used to say, the doldrums of everyday life.—

It allows you to enter into a world where you could put aside things that are bothering you, things that are troubling you just for a moment, which could help rejuvenate your soul to get back to doing the work that you need to do. So I think it's a win-win for everybody involved, because music education is not just about creating musicians, but it's about creating a community that really appreciates the arts, I think. And I've seen what it's done for me. I'm here to tell you arts education is vital. It's vital. People don't really get it sometimes because they keep looking at the big picture. They're not understanding that this is not necessarily about creating the next Wynton Marsalis. No, it's not about that. If we do that, fine, that'd be great. But it's about creating the next productive person who understands what art is and what life is about, much bigger than what they see on the block. We want to have a world mentality. And that's what having these broader experiences for young kids does. Did it for me. Did it for everybody that I grew up with.

Jo Reed: I'm wondering when you're teaching students who are at the college level who are really thinking about a career in music, how do you help them develop their own style?

Terence Blanchard: Right. Well, when I'm working with kids who really want to become professional musicians, I make 'em all compose–all of them. But here's the thing. I teach them composition the way Roger taught me. So it's not necessarily about the idea, but it's how we develop the idea. So when I give 'em all of these rules about how to take their idea and runthrough all of these various permutations, they see all of these possibilities. The cool thing is, is that none of them sound the same because I'm not giving them the idea. They're taking their own ideas, and I'm showing them how to take that idea no matter how small, and blow it up into something big. An example I always use is (scats the beginning of Beethoven’s Fifth). Four notes and it became a huge symphony.

Jo Reed: And you are now the artistic director at SFJazz. What attracted you to that role?

Terence Blanchard: Well, the job at SF Jazz for me, was really attractive because it's San Francisco, first of all. And when you think about music and art in San Francisco, man, there's a lot of cutting edge stuff it that's come from that area. It's been an incubator. You know what I mean? For art, for creative things, for daring things. It's getting, the tech world is kind of taking it over now in terms of the impression of what's there. But no, man, it's always been this haven for the arch for me. And Randall Kline, who was the guy who created SF Jazz, I've known him for a number of years, man, for a long time. When I first met him, he was a concert promoter. And when I saw what he built with SFJ is, I thought it was brilliant, brilliant. Had no idea I'd be working there—running a joint. But now that I'm there, I'm excited about what it is we can do. Because I wanted to be a destination spot. I want people from all over the world to come to San Francisco and check out SFJazz. We are already well entrenched in the community, and there's more things that we could do in terms of outreach to students that I'm working on. We want to go more into the schools and some communities and have a bigger footprint in those areas. But along with that, I want to offer opportunities for musicians that are kind of caught in the middle of things. You got to understand that it's a different world from when I got into the music industry. When I got in, you got signed to the label, they promoted you on radio, you were hearing you all over the place, and you could tour. That's gone. It's gone. So we have to figure out how to help some of these musicians who are not major stars, but who are not beginners. They're kind of caught in the middle a little bit. And so some of us realize we have to take a chance on them to build a relationship with audiences, and that'll happen over time. That's the reason why It's a nonprofit organization. We don't have to turn a profit, even though we do, we do extremely well. But at the same time, I am really excited about all of that. There's some technological things we're going to do. We have immersive video there. I'm excited about how we're going to incorporate that into live shows. I actually want to curate a series of matching video artists with musicians and have them collaborate on things. There's so many things coming down the pipe with SFJazz. So when you talk about why I'm there, man, it's because the sky's the limit with that organization. And I was telling some people, I said, man, I really feel like I've been given the keys to a Ferrari with SFJazz, because it's already been doing a lot of great work. I'm just coming in there and just kind of putting my take on things and trying to expand it in other areas.

Jo Reed: And you have been named an NEA Jazz Master. What does that mean for you, Terence?

Terence Blanchard: Well, first of all, I was not expecting that at all—the NEA Jazz Master thing because I had seen so many people receive it. When it finally dawned on me and I realized that it was real, it took me a second. It's a huge honor. It's a huge honor to be in a class with all of my heroes. It's something I didn't think of that it just never crossed my mind. And even now just talking about it, now's like the realization of it. It's overwhelming to a degree, because I remember when it started, and I remember saying to myself, finally, that's kind of cool that these guys are being recognized like this in such a way because they've been contributing so much to the world of music. And now to be in that lineup, man, ask me when it's all after the thing is done. It is kind of like going to the Met for the first time. It's like I can't really put into words what it feels like because I'm still processing the entire thing. But to suffice it to say, it's a huge, huge overwhelming honor to be amongst some of the greatest of our time.

Jo Reed: And an honor so well deserved. Terence, truly.

Terence Blanchard: Thank you.

Jo Reed: Thank you. Thank you for everything you do.

Terence Blanchard: No, thank you. I appreciate you saying that. I do. I do. And NEA Jazz Master. Wow.

Jo Reed: That was part two of my conversation with 2024 NEA Jazz Master Terence Blanchard. We spoke at the end of 2023. This is my last episode of Art Works. I am off to my retirement after 696 shows…and each one has been sheer pleasure. Art Works has been possible all these years because of the support from my colleagues at the Arts Endowment, most particularly those in the Office of Public Affairs, both past and present. So here’s to Adam Kampe, Jess Sarmiento, Jamie Bennett, Carlos Arrien, Rebecca Sutton, Kelli Rogowski, Liz Auclair, David Low, Sally Gifford, Paulette Beete, Carolyn Coons, Victoria Hutter, Sonia Tower, Aunye Boone, Cliff Archuletta, Allison Hill, and especially Don Ball. My heartfelt gratitude. For the National Endowment for the Arts. I’m Josephine Reed—thank you for listening.

Terence Blanchard: They did a study and they found that kids who were involved in music did better in math and science, just in general. So just from a productive point of view, the arts really help us develop another side of our brain. And I'd like to think that it helps us to develop the compassionate side of us that along with these experiences as musicians, allow us to create music to help people heal. But as patrons, it allows you to get away from, like Art Blakely used to say, the doldrums of everyday life.

It allows you to enter into a world where you could put aside things that are bothering you, things that are troubling you just for a moment, which could help rejuvenate your soul to get back to doing the work that you need to do. So I think it's a win-win for everybody involved, because music education is not just about creating musicians, but it's about creating a community that really appreciates the arts, I think. And I've seen what it's done for me. I'm here to tell you.

Music Credits: “NY” composed and performed by Kosta T, from the cd Soul Sand. Used courtesy of the Free Music Archive.
Terence Blanchard, Live at Monterey Jazz Festival, 2023. “Oh- By The Way” from the album Oh-By the Way, composed by Terence Blanchard, performed by Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. “Sing Soweto” composed and performed by Terence Blanchard, from the cd Terence Blanchard. “Flow Pt.1” from the cd Flow, composed and performed by Terence Blanchard.
 

Jo Reed: For the National Endowment for the Arts, this is Art Works, I’m Josephine Reed. Trumpeter, composer, bandleader—Terence Blanchard is a six-time Grammy winner, a MacArthur Genius Fellow, a two-time Oscar nominee, and now, a 2024 NEA Jazz Master. Over the course of his career, he’s left an indelible mark from his early years with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers to his decades-long collaboration with Spike Lee to his groundbreaking work in opera. In this first of a two-part conversation recorded at the end of 2023, Terence takes us back to where it all began—New Orleans. He talks about growing up in a city filled with music, the teachers who shaped his artistry, and the pivotal moments that set him on the path to becoming one of today’s most influential musicians. With all he has accomplished, one of the things that has remained constant is the influence of New Orleans. So I began by asking him how the city—its music, its culture, its energy—has shaped his career.

Terence Blanchard: Well, New Orleans is one of those cities where growing up here, either you are a musician or you have been heavily affected by the music. I've heard a lot of great music from the time that I was a little kid. I remember going to picnics and there being live bands of people that really could play. So that stuff, it's in your DNA and no matter where I go, no matter what I do in my career, this is always with me. 

Jo Reed: You grew up in a city full of music and in a house that was full of music too.

Terence Blanchard: Yeah, it was so interesting me, because the house that I grew up just had music everywhere. My mom's sister played piano and taught voice. My dad loved opera and was an amateur baritone and sang all the time. Sister's husband sang with my dad. So there was always performances when I was a little kid, recitals, church performances, things like that, that I was going to, whether they were singing or not. So it became second nature just to be around it. And my grandmother had a piano at our house, and I used to just try to bang on the piano because everybody was playing it at some point.

So I would try to take my turn and I didn't know what I was doing. I was about five years old. And then that's when they started me on lessons when I was five years old. I guess they got tired of me trying to play Batman without knowing what I was doing. But it was a type of thing where, I don't know how to explain it. There was always references. No matter what type of music I was into. I remember Andre Previn would come on television. My dad would scream, come here, come here. Sit down now listen to that. Oscar Peterson. I remember Oscar Peterson was on television one time, and he said, man, look at his touch. Look at how he uses his fingers and how his hands are placed. That was a big thing for my parents, and I think for me now, looking back, it all resonated around the whole notion of being excellent at what it is that you did.

Don't ever take it for granted. My father used to come home when I was a little kid, and I'm a kid. My dad would come home and he sold the insurance, and he always had a lot of change in his pockets and a lot of keys. So soon as he hit the door, I could hear him in the back of the house and I'll be like, "oh my God, here he is." And he comes back there and I must be about eight or nine years old, and he goes, "Hey, man, don't you have a recital in two months? You need to be practicing." And I'm like, "yes, in two months." I said, "I have time. What are you talking about, man?" And he would make me go up there and practice, and he would sit on the couch right next to me while I would practice. And he was like, "Hey, hey, go back. Go back. Go back. Do that again." Yeah. So he would never let me get away with anything when I was a kid.

Jo Reed: When did you start playing trumpet? How did the switch come about?

Terence Blanchard: What happened was, wow, switching to trumpet was an interesting endeavor. In fourth grade in elementary school, a guy named Alvin Alcorn came to my elementary school to give us a demonstration on New Orleans traditional music. And it was something about the way the trumpet resonated, the vibrato and his tone, the sound, it sounded human and vocal like to me. And I remember going home, I tell him, my dad, I said, dad, I want to play the trumpet. What made that interesting was my grandmother had the piano and he had just rented a piano for me to have at the house, so you could imagine that conversation.

But listen, after he calmed down and the swearing stopped, he said, listen, if you practice, I'll get you a horn, but you got to practice. And again, setting the tone for me. You know what I mean? Letting me know what the work ethic was about. And then a few years, or maybe it was a year or something after I had my horn, we get to a stoplight and there's Alvin Alcorn in the car next to us, and I go, dad, that's the guy. He's the reason why I'm playing the trumpet. My dad knew him. I didn't know that. You know what I mean? And my dad rolls down the window, of course, it's one of those long lights. And my dad rolled out, he say, “Hey, Al.” And he goes, “Hey, Oliver, how you doing?” He said, “Hey, man, listen, my son plays the trumpet. You think you could teach him how to play jazz?” And I got excited because I'm like, man, I'm going to study with this guy. And he said, “No, no, no. He's got to learn how to do that on his own.” I was a little kid, man. I was crushed. I was crushed. But I look back on it, and I think it was probably the best thing for me to hear about learning how to go out and get it yourself, not rely on other people, but do the work yourself.

Jo Reed: Well, you always speak so highly of your teachers throughout your life, but your early teachers, Martha Francis and Louise Winchester, and the great Roger Dickerson. Yes. Tell us how they influenced you, especially Roger Dickerson. Still he's a touchstone.

Terence Blanchard: Yes. Well, it's one of the things, well, I try to tell people all the time, because educators don't get enough respect. We don't shine enough light on them, but they are the real superheroes in a lot of our lives. Martha Francis was my very first piano teacher. The only reason why I laugh is because when I was studying with her, we were living in a double, and she lived in a double, she was in the part behind ours. So I could never miss a lesson ever, any weekend. And as a matter of fact, my bedroom's in the back of our part of the double, and their front one was the front. So I would hear them play the piano all night long. But she was great to get me started. And then Ms. Winchester, I was about 11 or 12 years old when I started studying with her.

I didn't realize what I was getting, but she was teaching me theory and giving me ear training lessons when I was 11 or 12 years old with some other kids. And we didn't know. We thought this is what you were supposed to do. So we were learning about how music was constructed. So that helped me with Roger, because when I went to Roger, my aunt, my mom's sister, she went to college with Roger at Dillard University, and then she said, maybe I should take him over to Roger to see if Roger will take him as a student. Because Roger was only teaching college students. He wasn't teaching high school students. But when I got there, he had seen my progress. I was about 14 or 15 years old and asked me some questions and then he took me on as a student. And from that moment on, man, my life, it took a turn because this guy, first of all, he felt like family. You know what I mean? He knew my aunt. He felt like somebody in my immediate family. And he would challenge my thinking all the time. “Well, tell me why is that significant?” I had to have answers.

When he started teaching me composition, I didn't ask. It was just something he started doing. And he taught me in such a way where everything that I had written or would write, I had to explain melody, counter lines, bass lines. I had to explain where they came from. There had to be some relevance to the original musical idea, which really started to make me understand about being concise, you know what I mean? And having some type of consistency throughout whatever it is that you create. But I didn't realize it because I'm a kid. I didn't realize it. Every week, I would go over my work, and I'm like, oh, alright. I got him this time. And I would get there and he would look at it and he'd go, that's nice. Oh man, this is really beautiful. It's great. But right here. And he would start to mark up my thing when I'm like, oh my God. But I love that level of attention to detail because it's done me well in my career now. And I wouldn't be here. And I don't have any shame in my game about saying it. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Roger. I would not, because he saw something in me I didn't see in myself.

And that's what teachers do. That's what the good ones do. And just to prove the point, when it came time to write an opera, I called him just like I, I would call him whenever I had big moments in my life, and I said, “Roger, these people are asking me to write an opera. I don't know what to do.” And he said, “trust your training.” He said,” trust your training.” He said, “don't write an opera, tell a story”. That's all he told me. But he knew what was in me. And then George Jensen was my trumpet teacher. And then Dr. Bro was a teacher that I had at NOCCA, and then Ellis Marsalis as well. So all of these people played a role in my life.

Jo Reed: And NOCCA is the New Orleans Center for the Creative Arts. You and the Marsalis family go back a long way. You and Wynton are childhood friends. Were you guys playing out in New Orleans? Were you playing in recitals?

Terence Blanchard: No. When I first met Wynton and Branford, we were at elementary school. I always tell a story, man, we were at the Loyola University summer music camp, and Wynton was going to sixth grade. I was going to fifth grade. I'll never forget it. Branford was going to seventh grade. And we were at the summer music camp, and it was not even the jazz band. It was like a concert band thing. And me and Wynton had the last two chairs in the trumpet section. We would've saddest dudes in the group. Man, I always talk about it. I said, I think most of our music had rest.

We sit there while the band was playing. We talked to each other, man. So what'd you do yesterday? Man? I played ball. What about you? Oh, man, I had football practice. It was that kind of thing. But not too long after that, I saw him, Wynton again, man. And he was playing up a storm. And I said, man, what are you doing? And that's when he told me, he says,” man, you got to go to NOCCA, New Orleans Center for the Creative Arts.” He said, you got to go there. And then he talked about John Longo, who was his trumpet teacher. So I immediately started to do some research about New Orleans Center for the Creative Arts, and found out that it was a public school. And I was going to a private school, and I had to talk my parents into it. And it was hard for them because the private school I was going to was one of the prestigious schools in the city. So to leave that to go to a public school was something they really couldn't put their heads around, but my parents stuck with me throughout all of that stuff. And once I got to NOCA, that was another big shift in my life because I was around kids like me who really wanted it badly, kids who would practice. And we were at an arts high school, so we were around dancers, actors, writers, painters. And it was an amazing experience that school was so smart and how they designed that program, because we would have a gala to raise money at the end of the year. And the gala itself was education for us, right? Because the gala was a performance where we brought all of the disciplines together to interact to make one big show. So we had the dancers, had the actors, we had the musicians, and sometimes there would be crosspollination between those disciplines. And it was a beautiful thing to witness because we all got a chance to learn.

Jo Reed: You ended up going to Rutgers University. Why Rutgers?

Terence Blanchard: Well, when it came time to go to college, I looked at a lot of schools, and what it really boiled down to was who were the trumpet teachers there? They had a great jazz program there with great jazz teachers. Paul Jeffries, who played in Thelonious Marks' band, Larry Ridley, Kenny Barron, who's a great jazz pianist and was actually one of my piano teachers. I studied piano with him a little bit, and it just made sense because then I would be close to New York.

Being in New Brunswick was really cool. Then as a matter of fact, I stayed with Paul Jeffries before school started. He was playing in Lionel Hampton's band at the time, and he took me on one of the gigs and told me to bring my horn. And then I'm out there and the band is setting up. It was an outdoor gig, I think, in Philly someplace, and the band is setting up, and some of the trumpet players asked me to pull on my horn and play. And then Lionel Hampton walked up behind me and goes, Hey, man, let me hear you play a blues with the piano player. So I played the blues with him, and the next thing you know, I was in the band. So I started traveling with Lionel Hampton's big band, basically before I started, maybe a week or two before I started school.

Jo Reed: What was that experience like for you? What an education that had to have been?

Terence Blanchard: Oh, man, being in that first thing about being in Lionel Hamptons band is that you realize when you get on the bus, everybody has their assigned seat and you, and don't disrespect that. You know what I mean? And I'm a young kid and I'm like 18 years old, Hey, young fellow, that's my seat. That happened for about five minutes, and I wind up in the back of the bus, of course, obviously. But once we got to the bandstand, it was an amazing experience. It was incredible. I had Curtis Fuller in that band who's a great trombone player. Frankie Dunlap, who played with Sonny Rollins was in that band; Oliver Beaner--he was a trumpet player in the section. He kind of took me under his wing. there were great musicians in that band man. And it was an education being around those guys because they would all play on a high level. Everybody in that group. And I was the youngest guy in the group. And it was interesting because they treated me with respect, but they treated me like they had expectations. Just because you’re a kid, don't think we're going to be easy on you. No, it wasn't that. I had to live up to everything by being in that band. And I think that band really helped prepare me to be in Art Blakey’s band after that, because I was getting training and learning how to elevate myself by being around those guys.

Jo Reed: It had to have been a transition going from Lionel Hampton's band to Art Blakey’s Band. They’re very different musicians, different band setups. Talk about that transition.

Terence Blanchard: No, it was a big transition going from Lionel Hampton to Art Blakey, because the big band, I'm in the section, I may be in one or two solos a night. With that small ensemble, you have a lot more responsibility. It's only one trumpet, two other horns and the rhythm section. So it placed a lot of responsibility on me really quickly. But it was exciting though, at the same time, because I'm playing with one of my heroes. I tell people all the time when I never forget, when I first saw Art Blakey’s band and saw him play live and played with him live, I had to go back and re-listen to all of my albums because it sounded different to me. There was a practicality about what it was that he was playing. And then to hear how he would shape our compositions was amazing.

I mean, because this is the dude I've been listening to on all these records with Wayne Shaw or Herbie Hancock, and Lee Morgan, I mean, the list is endless. And now I'm standing in front of him and he's playing one of my tunes. It's crazy. It was really crazy. But it was a great, great learning experience. I was there for four years and wound up becoming the musical director of the band. And Art was, man, he was brilliant. He knew that I was a shy kid. I was a shy kid, didn't talk much whatsoever. And I'll never forget it. He says, I'm going to make you the musical director. You need to come out of your shell. You're too shy. And I said, okay. And which meant I needed to announce the tunes, announce the band, and do all of that stuff. And it was uncomfortable for me at first. Oh my God, just like trying to talk in public was not my thing, but I got adapted it rather quickly. But the most important thing about playing with Art was not just playing with him. I met all of my heroes while I was in that band. I met Dizzy Gillespie, I already knew Clark Terry, but I met Woody Shaw, Freddie Hubbard, Miles Davis. I met all those guys while I was in that band.

And as a matter of fact, when Dizzy came to do a show with us, Art told them that I played piano, and we had just taken a break intermission, and Dizzy goes, well, when we go back out, we just, me and you go out and we both play two ballads. I'm going to play a ballad and you play piano for me, and then you're going to play a ballad, and I'm going to play piano for you. And that's what we did. And I was about 20-21 years old. I always tell people, it's the first time you heard vibrato on a piano, man. Because I was shaking. I'm sitting there going, this is Dizzy Gillespie, man, and I'm up here playing a piano with Dizzy Gillespie. It was crazy. But that was the kind of experiences that I had.

So I tell people all the time, even though I was in that band for four years, I felt like I aged by 40 because it was such a rapid thing of seeing all of these great musicians hanging out with him, meeting Wayne Shorter, seeing Herbie Hancock, watching Tony Williams play. Tony, we played a show at this club. It was called Fat Tuesday, and it was a small little club. And at the table right in front of us, it was Max Roach, Roy Haynes and Jack DeJohnette sitting at the table right in front of us while we're playing. And I'm like 19 years old. I'm looking at… I'm like, wow, how did I get here? How did this happen? But that was the kind of rapid acceleration of growth that I experienced while I was in that band for four years.

Jo Reed: And you also experienced a lot of growth in terms of composition because Blakey demanded that musicians composed. Talk about that and beginning to come into your own as a composer.

Terence Blanchard: Well, as soon as I joined the band, Art goes, “Wynton told me you could write. I want you to bring your music to the group.” And what was the most challenging thing for us in that band was by the time we got to that band, he had already made a bunch of iconic records. So there's a sound in our head about what the Jazz Messengers were. But he wanted us to change that. He wanted us to have our own version of that. You know what I mean? As a matter of fact, one of the little things, I don't know if a lot of people noticed this, but when Wynton and Branford and all of them left the band, there was a big shift over in the band. He got a new set of drums. It was a little subtle thing that he would do all the time. So when we left the band, same thing happened. He got a new set of drums, you know what I mean? But that's just the type of guy that he was. And he was like, I remember one time we were playing at Sweet Basil’s, and he goes, “I want this band to get to the point where we could just go out there and create a tune just on the fly.’ That's Art Blakey saying that. There was no boundaries for him, even though he had a strong musical personality. But within that personality, the sky was the limit. It was really about how we could really craft the music to really have our own version of the Messengers while we were there.

Jo Reed: And while you were still with The Messengers, you and your fellow, New Orleanian Donald Harrison got together and created your own quintet.

Terence Blanchard: Yes.

Jo Reed: What did you and Donald want to do together musically? And tell me about that time that you were together. You created some gorgeous, gorgeous records.

Terence Blanchard: No, thank you. Thank you. What happened while Donald and myself were in the band was George Wein approached us and he said, man, I want to record you guys as a duo. And we were like, oh, okay. And once we put our heads around it, for us, it was an opportunity to create and to create our own sound. One of the things I'll say about Donald and myself, back then, we never really tried to sound like anybody. We were in search of. We were trying a lot of different things. And when we put the band together at first and started touring, man, that was an education because all of a sudden now, we don't have that strong thing coming from Art Blakey. And we had great drummers, but we had to get adjusted to playing with other people, but in the meantime, give them a kind of sense of where we were coming from musically.

I looked at it as a workshop group. Let's just try these ideas, man. We have this moment in time where we have this band together. Let's just try things. And that's what we did. When you listen to those records, I listen back to 'em and they make me smile. The thing that I'm proud of is that we made the effort. We didn't sit back and just accept things. We really tried our best to create our own sound.

Jo Reed: You have banner years throughout your life. In 1991 was one you started your solo career with release of the self-titled album Terence Blanchard. And then that same year, you began your more than 30 year collaboration with Spike Lee. So let's take the solo career first. What made you decide, okay, I want to go out.

Terence Blanchard: Again, I didn't make those decisions. What happened was George Butler at Columbia Records, he came up to me and says, Hey, man, I want to do a solo album with you. And I said, okay, okay, fine. But here's the wild part about it, though. I was working on a song for that album, the Self-titled album, and just so happened to be working with Spike for Mo Better Blues, where we're doing the pre-records. So we took a break, and I started going through that song for that album, and Spike walks by and he goes, "Man, what's that?" Or, I said, "it's a song that I'm working on called 'Sing Soweto', something that I'm working on for my album." He goes, "Hey, man, can I use it in the movie?" And I said, "sure." So at the time, we just recorded it, just the melody just trumpet.

And I was like, oh, cool, man. My tune's going to be in a movie. I didn't think none of it. That's going to be kind of cool. And the next thing you know, he came up to him and he goes, ‘Hey, man, can you write a string arrangement for it?” And it's one of those moments where do I lie? Or do I tell the truth? So I lied. I said, yeah, I got to write a string arrangement for it. That's when I called Roger, I called Roger, Hey, man, listen, I have this thing to do, man. Same thing. Trust your training. You'll be okay. I did the arrangement. I came back, and we are in the studio now. There's a 60 piece orchestra out there. I handed music to Spike's dad, because he was scoring the film and Spike's dad goes, “Uhuh, you wrote it, you conduct it.” And I went, excuse me, what? And right at that moment, I went back to my high school training where we used to do sight singing classes. It was embarrassing. But we got through it. We got through it, and Spike came up to me afterwards, and he goes, you have a future in this business. And I said, oh, man, thank you. I really didn't think nothing of it, but then he called me to do Jungle Fever. So all of that stuff was happening at the same time. And I look back on it now and think about how crazy it was at the time. But for me, it was just there were opportunities that were in front of my face that I had to try to experience and try to take advantage of.

Jo Reed: And Jungle Fever was the first film for Spike that you actually scored?

Terence Blanchard: Yes. And the reason why I'm laughing is because he loved “Sing Soweto” so much. He couldn't get it out of his ear. So I kept trying to write these other themes for him. He goes, "Yeah, yeah. Hey, man, let's just use 'Sing Soweto'." He said, "Nobody don't know." And I said, "But remember, it was in another movie." He said, "Nobody will know." So that's what happened. And then I literally didn't think he was going to call me to do Malcolm X because it was such a big movie, big budget film, major stars. And sure enough, he said, "Listen, man, get ready. I want you to do Malcolm X." I immediately started listening to some scores, started studying. I was cramming because Jungle Fever was a great experience, but I knew Malcolm X was going to be something totally different. So I had to be prepared. And I did a lot of work before we started working on that. So I know that I did the best that I could at that time because I'd studied so much.

Jo Reed: Terence, what goes into scoring a film? And the B part of that question is, and what goes into working with Spike in particular, that's such a long collaboration.

Terence Blanchard: So when it comes to film scoring really my job is to help with director tell a story the best way they see fit. Now, the interesting thing about it, there's so many ways to do it, and that's where the problem comes in, because sometimes with certain young directors, mostly they can be all over the place, and sometimes you have to hone them in and say, look, well, let's make a decision about an approach so we can have some consistency throughout the entire thing. Within that approach, there can be variables, obviously, but that's the great thing about working with Spike. Spike, man, that dude, he respects all of the different crafts that it takes to make a movie. So he doesn't stand over you. He's not bothering you all the time. The most that I hear from him is when we are initially creating the themes. When I'm writing these themes for him, we'll go through the film and he'll say, "I want this person, this person to have a theme." Then I'll come back here and I'll start to work on a theme, and I'll write him down, and I record him just on the piano. He doesn't want it any other way, just on the piano. And I'll send him to him and he listens to him and he sings him. And then either we get together or he'll call me and he says, "Hey, Terence, I want number 11 to be so-and-so's theme number four, to be so-and-so's theme." And we go through an entire thing like that. And then once he does that, I don't hear from him until we get to the studio.

And I think, I don't know this to be true, it is only my speculation, but I think it's like a psychological thing, because if somebody puts that kind of trust in you, man, it makes you check everything three times. You know what I mean? Because you don't want to let that person down if they're giving you that type of room. You know what I mean? I want to make sure that things are going to be right. I don't like getting into the studio and still having to write music. I try to make sure all of my scores are done when we get to the stage. I don't like that extra tension. And it is been great working with Spike because I'll show up, everything's ready, and I get to the studio maybe two hours ahead. And when I get that two hours ahead, it's because I just want to relax.

I don't want to run in and jump into work. No. We relax and be kind of joking around, and then all of a sudden Spike shows up, "Hey man," boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. And then the concertmaster come in, he says, "They're all tuned up and ready to go, boom." And then we go out and we'll start the first scene. We'll pick a scene, say, Spike, what do you want to hear? Let's do this scene. And once we do it, I realized it's him wanting to hear the entire score for the first time. An audience will hear it. And he's brilliant in that way, man. So one of the things about working with Spike that I should have alluded to earlier, it's like working with Michael Jordan. It's like you're on a fast break and you are the last guy and he's about to pass you the ball. You can't miss the shot. You can't. So Spike has always made me stretch in ways other directors haven't because of his cinematic style.

Jo Reed: And you were nominated for an Academy Award for a best score for two of the films Da Five Bloods and BlacKkKlansman.

Terence Blanchard: Yeah. Congratulations. No, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. That was pretty funny though, when we got nominated for BlacKkKlansman, because the journalists asked us, it was Barry Alexander Brown, Spike and myself, and he asked us, "was it working together for 30 years?" And we were really? Damn. It’s been 30 years. Okay. But the thing that I had to say when the guy asked us that is that it's been brilliant working with those guys for 30 years because they never talked about demographics. They only talked about what was best for the movie every time, for every film. And it was something I never really noticed until he asked me that. Whenever they were making about editing or storytelling, it was all about what was best for the story. And you got to give them credit for that being an artist and being true to their art.

Jo Reed: Yeah, we see it on the screen.

Terence Blanchard: Yes. Yes, we do.

Jo Reed: While we're talking about this, I have to bring up Perry Mason, which you recently scored. And I just wonder if there's a different way you have to approach an ongoing series as opposed to a single film. 

Terence Blanchard: What's interesting about doing series episodic television is that if the series is great, it helps you evolve with the storyline. When we did the first season, I told Tim Van Patton, who was the director and producer of it, I said, man, I said, dude, you're making this easy for me. He goes, what do you mean? I said, everything's on the screen. There's nothing for me to manipulate or add a supplement. I'm following you guys. I'm following the action. I'm following the storyline. And when you have John Lithgow and Matthew Reese, the cast was incredible. You know what I mean? Those guys make it easy.

The cool part about that was just that it was a remake of something that I grew up watching, but the remake was brave. Paul Drake is an African American guy. Della is a gay woman. There was so many things about the story that I thought was just brave, and they were mixing up all of these things. And I told Tim, well, that's what we need to do with the music. We should mix up the old and the new. Because at first, they wanted me to do it with a big band. I'm like, I don't think that's what this thing needs. I mean, we could have done it that way. It wouldn't have been a problem. But I kept thinking something else. And oddly enough, man, I wasn't going to play on it at all. No, I wasn't going to play on it. But what happened was we did the first season during the pandemic, so I was upstairs in my studio working on it, and then when it came time to record, we couldn't get in the room. So we had to get everybody to do their parts in their home studios. That's what happened the first season.. We had to get everybody to do their stuff in their home studios and then piece it together. So in the process of that, I said, well, I don't know who we're going to give for a lead instrument because I had been thinking about maybe a voice or maybe something else.

And then I said, man, alright, why don't you just play on it for now? And then that became the thing. And then when season two rolled around, I don't know. I don't know how to explain it, it became fun because I didn't have to create the palette that was already created in season one, but I did have to think about how am I not going to beat people over the head with those themes? You know what I mean? And again, it had to be integrated into the storyline and the storylines was powerful. I think they did a great job. That was one show. I was really sorry that we didn't get picked up for a third season, but I thought it was an amazing month for me. I had a lot of fun working on it.

Jo Reed: Meanwhile, you're pushing your own solo work forward in albums like Flow produced by Herbie Hancock, and that was some great jazz. It had some soul grooves going on, west African beats, funk, all coming together in a really wonderful hole. Can you talk about putting that together and the relationship you and Herbie have?

Terence Blanchard: Well, it was so interesting working on Flow because we didn't have a title for it first, right? We knew we wanted to do an album of our original music. And I said, man, maybe I should get Herbie to produce. And I said, ah, let me ask him. And he said, yes. And when he said yes, that was a pivotal moment for us as a group, because at the time, we're still trying to figure out our way as a band. And we get into the studio and Herbie just starts talking to us in a way, nobody talked to us before. He said, man, but what band played plays like this band? He said, I love this band. At the time, he said, there's my band, Wayne's Band and your band. Those are the three bands that I like. 

And his leadership just by what he did, was incredible, incredible. It made us like reach. But the funny part was we realized we were running out of material for the album, and Herbie said, well, man, y'all jazz musicians go out there and create something. And that's how Flow came about, and that's why it's called Flow, because one of the things that we were experiencing is being in the moment, being in that flow. And it's funny because a lot of people think art and creating stuff is about a struggle, and it's not because sometimes when you're on the flow of something, it just comes out. But that's why I think you practice, you hone your skills. So when that surge of energy comes, it comes through that filter.

Jo Reed: Let’s talk about your current band The E Collective for a moment, how do you come together musically? How do you allow musicians their own voices and give them room for their own compositions, but at the same time to still create a coherent, cohesive band.

Terence Blanchard: With The E Collective man, it's been such a blessing playing with those dudes because it's like my other bands too. Everybody in the band can write, and everybody in the band is extremely creative. So what generally happens with us is that when we take on a new project, guys will jot down ideas to come up with things. And when we start to go on the road, we use our sound checks as rehearsals, and we run through ideas and we try different things, and all of a sudden we'll start to implement things into the lineup, and then it just kind of grows from there. But the thing that's cool about this band, what's ever on the page, that is just a roadmap. You know what I mean? That's a starting point. Because once these guys get it in their minds and they know what it is, they tried things every night and then it just kind of grows from there. It's been such a great thing playing with them. That's the reason why we did the live album, because we kept saying, okay, us in the studio is fine, but when we're playing live is when a lot of the magic really happens. And we wanted to really capture that. But these dudes, there's something else, man. I love playing with those guys because they're so flexible and they're brilliant, man.

Jo Reed: That was part 1 of my two-part interview with trumpeter, composer and 2024 NEA Jazz Master Terence Blanchard. In part 2, Terence discusses the impact of Hurricane Katrina on his life and his work, his ongoing exploration of music with his current band, taking on the role of artistic director of SFJAZZ, his groundbreaking work in opera, and his role as an educator mentoring the next generation of musicians. Follow Behind the Mic wherever you get your podcasts and part 2 will simply appear in your feed. You’ve been listening to Art Works produced at the National Endowment for the Arts, I’m Josephine Reed—thanks for listening.

Terence Blanchard: Oh, man, being in that first thing about being in Lionel Hamptons band is that you realize when you get on the bus, everybody has their assigned seat and you, and don't disrespect that. You know what I mean? And I'm a young kid and I'm like 18 years old, Hey, young fellow, that's my seat. That happened for about five minutes, and I wind up in the back of the bus, of course, obviously. But once we got to the bandstand, it was an amazing experience. Oliver Beaner, he was a trumpet player in the section. He kind of took me under his wing because he was like, man, come sit by me. You know what I mean? And I remember I was such a young kid, and his wife met me and saw me in the band and knew I was a college student. So when we'd have trips, she'd fix a meal for him, and then she'd fix extra stuff for me to have, because I was just a kid.

But then musically, excuse me. But then musically, it was incredible. I had Curtis Fuller in that band who's a great trombone player. Frankie Dunlap, who played with Sonny Rollins was in that band. And like I said, Oliver Beaner, there were great musicians in that band man. And it was an education being around those guys because they would all play on a high level. Everybody in that group. And I was the youngest guy in the group. And it was interesting because they treated me with respect, but they treated me like a, they had expectations. Just because you a kid, don't think we're going to be easy on you. No, it wasn't that I had to live up to everything by being in that band. And I think that band really helped prepare me to be in our Blakeys band after that, because I was getting training and learning how to elevate myself by being around those guys.