Terence Blanchard in Dallas

Jamie Jackson: Terence Blanchard is a renowned composer, jazz trumpeter, and educator, known for scoring many of director Spike Lee's films.

We sat down with Terrence to discuss the E-Collective's collaboration with the Turtle Island String Quartet, and his award-winning opera, "Fire Shut Up in My Bones."

It's inspired by "New York Times" columnist Charles Blow's memoir of growing up in the South and dealing with the trauma of sexual assault.

I wanna talk about your interest and your passion for music.

How did you get started in music?

Terence Blanchard: My father loved opera.

He was an amateur baritone, so I heard music in the house growing up.

My mom's sister taught piano and voice, and my grandfather on my mom's side played guitar.

So, there was always music in the house, and it was just a foregone conclusion that I may have some interest in it, but it didn't really come to fruition until I was about five years old, which is still very young.

Jamie: So, we obviously have the great opportunity to enjoy your opera, and also get to enjoy your jazz music with your band, and with Turtle Island String Quartet, and with yourself.

Talk about the collaboration that takes place between the pieces.

Terence: The guys in my band, in Turtle Island, you know, the talent level is extremely high.

These are the best of the best, you know.

And not only are we bringing it to you, but you gotta remember, I'm having fun playing with them, too.

Turtle Island String Quartet, those guys are incredible.

They are, like, redefining what a string quartet is.

Because they're freaks of nature, man, you know, and playing with them for, like, the last year, it's been such a beautiful experience that we're talking about doing another project together.

But the project that we're gonna be playing, you know, here, it's based off of our latest album, "Absence," which is a tribute to the Great Wayne Shorter, man.

You know, Wayne Shorter has been, like, a constant in my life, musically, man.

From the first time that I heard his music, and then having the privilege to get to know him, you know, personally has been such an honor and a blessing.

I can't even put it into words.

So, we put together this album, and it's a combination of his music and our music with the Turtle Island String Quartet.

Jamie: And in performing selections from your opera, "Fire Shut Up in My Bones," when you see your work being performed, what goes through your mind?

Terence: How did I get here?

Literally, I mean, you know, and then I get emotional sometimes, because I know my dad is not around, but me and my mom, we laughed, you know, when my opera went to the Met because we kept saying if my dad was around, we'd have to chain him to a chair to keep him off the stage, you know, because that really was his world.

So, when I get a chance to see these productions, man, it can be overwhelming sometimes.

You know, I'm just so sorry, he's not here to witness this.

Jamie: What made you decide to choose Charles Blow's story to tell and to tell through music?

Terence: Well, the reason why I wanted to do Charles's story is because, you know, being African American, being a musician in my neighborhood that really championed athletes, you know, I know what that isolation is like.

You know, I've never been sexually molested, but you know, walking to the bus stop with glasses and a horn case on a Saturday afternoon wasn't the most popular thing to do in my neighborhood, you know what I mean?

Or when I had to practice my piano lessons in a big bay window in the front of the house, I understood what feeling different was about.

I understood what that's like, you know.

When you're trying to belong so much, that's the thing, you know?

The thing with "Fire Shut Up in My Bones," these singers, they take ownership of it, so as soon as it's presented to them, it doesn't even belong to me anymore, you know, they're the ones who really bring it to life and really help develop these characters.

And for me, you know, it's an amazing experience watching it unfold and watching it develop, you know, because the stories are the things that are most powerful, because we all can relate to those stories, which is something as African Americans, we don't get a chance to see a lot in opera.

And I think that's what a lot of people have been responding to with the production, but it speaks to a certain demographic that hasn't been tapped into terms of the opera world.

But I think everybody is starting to get it now.

Tears from another place, from another time, from a boy who couldn't cry.

I never thought it would come out, but here it is, but here they are, tears of anger and shame, of manner of pain, on my way to kill a man, thrusting this hole in my hand.

A gun my mother gave me just in case, but Mama's gun couldn't keep me safe.

In a world, a place, in another time, a boy who couldn't cry is crying now, and someone must die.

Interstate 20, I drove this lonely road a thousand times, but never so fast as with murder on my mind.

A voice on the phone, "What's going on, boy, what's going on?"

Like nothing has happened, like everything was fine.

Shame held not so long, but betrayal doesn't die.

Scratching to get up, churning, boiling to get out.

Now, here it is.

Now, here they are, tears of rage and revenge, and someone must die.

Bullets, blood, and death, bullets, blood, and death, prepare to die... Prepare to die.

And maybe, for a part of me I despise will die with you.

Golden button, where you come from?

From a jacket of a king, or the pocket of a father in a world I never seen.

Pulled from his coat when he picked up his son, or put in a pocket for his wife to sow on, or given to his son to hold.

One day you'll have a coat like Daddy's on your own with buttons of gold.

Hold onto this one until then and think of me when you're alone.

I'll be with you.

Golden button, things thrown away, lost and forgotten.

Your loss, my gain.

A treasure to be stashed away for a rainy day, to fill the emptiness inside of me.

Golden button, where you come from?

Take me there.

Is there a land across the sea where someone might have time for me?

Golden button, where you come from?

From a jacket of a king?

Or the pocket of a father in a world I never seen?

Pulled from his coat when he pick up his son, and put in a pocket, for his wife to sew on?

Or given to his son to hold.

One day you'll have a coat like Daddy's of your own with buttons of gold.

Hold on to this one until then and think of me when you're alone, Ill be with you.

Golden button, things thrown away, lost and forgotten.

Your loss, my gain, a treasure to be stashed away for a rainy day to fill the emptiness inside of me.

Golden button, where you come from?

Take us there.

Is there a land across the sea where someone might have time for me.

Hold on to this one until then, and think of me when you're alone and I will be with you.

Karen Slack: It's just an incredible experience.

It is a masterpiece of American culture, of black culture.

I just feel so much pride.

This is the first time we are doing this piece in the South, and because Charles Blow is from the South, he's from Louisiana, I think it resonates with a lot of people, a lot of black people, a lot of, you know, gay people, because Charles talks a lot about his, you know, his struggles with his sexuality, which people every day, you know, no matter what color you are, you know, the story just resonates with everybody, but particularly I think in the South because of the subject matter, but also the idea around child abuse and all of these things.

It's a very tough story, but also a triumphant story, because it doesn't matter where you come from or what your circumstance is, but that you can rise.

And here he is, this gigantic superstar of, you know, "New York Times" and best-selling author, and now his story is an opera, like, that is a triumphant--that's a story.

Jamie: What was it like working with Terrence Blanchard?

Karen: Wow, I mean, Terence is one of the most generous, humble, loyal people that I know.

I sing his music and it really comes from within.

Like, I look at it on a piece of paper, I look at the black notes on the white page, and I just know how to interpret them.

And his music, it has so much freedom, because probably because he's a jazz, you know, brilliant jazz musician, and for classical, everything is laid out.

Like, you got it, this is, you know, the dynamics, all the phrasing and everything, and Terence just writes the notes, and it gives you this map where you can explore any way you want.

And so, I just resonate so much with him and he resonates with the way that I sing his music.

Take this stain from my memory, this pain from my soul.

My spirit is tainted, yes, my sin painted for all to see.

Lord, protect me, I'm in danger.

Stalked, taunted, prayed on even in my sleep.

The strong eat the weak.

What is this pull on me?

Why can't I break free from its hold?

A force like gravity dragging me under.

Why won't they leave me alone?

What do they want from me?

What do they see even in my sleep?

The strong eat the weak.

Take it all away, Lord, save me from my dreams.

Beautiful nightmares, lovely phantoms, tempting, begging, haunting my sleep.

Take it all away, Lord, wash me clean.

Terence: When it came time for me to write an opera, dude, I was scared to death.

You know, I'm not, you know, I'm like, what do I do?

And I tried to--I'm I'm a very methodical person when it comes to doing things, so you know, I kept saying that I wanted my opera to sound natural.

I wanted it to feel natural.

I wanted it to feel conversational.

So, literally I would read the libretto, and when I would read the libretto, I got the rhythm from my voice.

So, I literally would take the libretto and write it out on paper and put these rhythms underneath, you know.

I want people to walk away feeling fulfilled in some regards, hopefully a little more open to the idea of what it is, of the story that we're telling.

I remember when "Fire" went to the Met, there was one guy who walked up to me afterwards, and he was in tears, man, and he just said, "I'm a survivor."

That's all he could get out, you know, and then he said, "Thank you."

That's powerful for me, because, you know, these experiences musically are not about me, specifically, it's really about trying to create something to help other people heal like it did for me when I was coming along.

So, I'm just trying to pay it back and pay it forward.

Jamie: So, when it comes to the performance of "Peculiar Grace," talk about that, talk about that moment, talk about that experience and what it was like producing that, but also the audience reaction to that particular moment.

Terence: You know, what's interesting about just the title itself, it just came from a conversation that Kasi Lemmons, who's the librettist, had with Charles.

He said I was a boy of peculiar grace, and it stuck.

And when I heard it, I went, you know what?

Man, that defines so much of my life as well, because being different, you don't understand that you're blessed, you know, sometimes.

And people always look at you as being odd, an oddity, right?

But those of us who are blessed can stay focused on what it is we have a passion for, and that thing kind of carries us through those troubling years to the point where you get to a stage in your life where you go, oh, I was meant to do this, you know.

And I think that's what happens with Charles, you know, and I wanted to create music that could really speak to that idea, you know, of being different.

I once was a boy of peculiar grace.

A dangerous existence for a man of my race.

A black boy from a lawless town where everyone carries a gun.

I carried shame in a holster around my waist.

A boy of peculiar grace.

A man who was lost and not found 'til now.

Dreams that that kept me awake, isolated by strange desires.

Half formed, not embraced, a graceful boy in a dangerous place.

Alone, the subject of curiosity for the old folks to speculate.

What wrong with that boy?

A stranger in my hometown, an oddity, the butt of a joke, a hurt that can't be erased.

The South is no place for a boy with peculiar grace.

I'll go north.

I'll make my way.

Nothing can stop me.

No reason to stay.

The South is no place for a boy with peculiar grace.

Goodbye, Gibsland, goodbye pain.

Goodbye nightmares, goodbye shame.

Goodbye pistols in my mama's purse.

Goodbye pastors in the Baptist church.

Goodbye Daddy and your good-time women.

Goodbye honkytonks and sinners in 'em.

Say goodbye to Charles, baby.

I'm finally free, I'm free, I'm free.

So, you've come back, boy, I knew you would.

Destiny is calling you.

Don't hesitate, boy, not for a moment.

Chickens must come home to roost.

Don't be afraid, boy, I'll be with you.

I'll be right there holding your hand.

Get what you came for.

Do what you must.

Its all part of a master plan.

Its useless to resist the pull.

Go where destiny takes you.

It's brought you home to end.

You started back where your life began.

Get what you came for.

Do what you must.

The storys etched into your hands.

Destiny writes the end!

He has to bleed, he has to die.

There's no escape, You may as well embrace your destiny!

And maybe the part of me I despise will die with him.

Maybe you'll die with him if that's your destiny.

Is that my destiny?

You tell me.

I am what I am.

My roots run deep.

I bend, I don't break.

I'm not a mistake.

I'm not a child any longer.

Charles baby, everyone's baby.

I'm a man.

I am what I am, made in God's image, glorious and scarred, magnificent and flawed.

I am what I am.

I'm a man.

Now my life begins.

So much to explore, so much love to give.

This is it, the end.

Now it begins.

Terence: Well, one of the things I hope all audiences take away from these works is the level of talent that exists in our community.

You know, there was one journalist who asked me a question when "Fire" went to the Met, he said, "Do you think your opera is gonna inspire young black people to sing opera?"

And I'm like, "Man, are you kidding?"

You know, black people have been singing opera for generations, you know, and I said it's just a shame that you don't know them.

So for me, I just feel proud, like I was saying earlier, to create some type of vehicle that allows them to showcase their talents, because I'm in awe of watching and hearing them just in rehearsal, and then when it gets to, you know, the performance, man, it just kicks into a whole another gear, and it's just amazing to watch.

Jamie: How long have you been with E-Collective?

David Ginyard: I've been with them for the past eight years.

Jamie: Wow, that's a long time.

What have you learned from Terence Blanchard in those eight years?

David: He's been a great mentor, especially for a young kid like me.

And so, it's been a blessing, you know, working with him, you know, especially one of your idols, musician idols, you know.

You know, he's just a great person on and off the court.

First thing that spoke to me, his personality kind of related to my parents, you know, and me coming from a very small town, they don't care about how good you are on your instrument there, you know.

So, your personality speaks first.

He's very humble.

With the "Absence" record, he let me compose the title track.

In the process of making that record, he asked me, you know, he said, "Are you working on anything?"

I said, yeah, so I gave him a song, and he said, "It's great, but it can be greater."

So, we were in Europe, we had, like, a five-hour drive, and he asked me to ride with him, and in that five hours, I didn't have anything to write on but a napkin, so he said, "Record everything down," and he gave me some tools that day that helped me finish that song.

He turned me into Blue Note label, and they said not only is that song has to be the title track, we're gonna name the whole record "Absence."

I'm gonna put my song seventh or eighth, and put your song first.

You know, that just changed my life.

Jamie: Do you ever just wake up and just say I could not have imagined my life to be able to do what I love each and every day?

Terence: Every day, man, every day.

It's not lost on me.

It's not lost on me how blessed I've been.

Every day, you know, I get up and I think about my father, I think about where I was as a kid, what I thought I'd be doing.

I thought I'd have a day job playing clubs because I loved music, you know, but to have this career like this and just solely concentrate on creating music and teaching, you know, working with young people, you know, I feel very, very fortunate to have the career that I've had, you know, which makes me work harder at it because I don't wanna lose it or forsake it.

When God gives you gifts like this, man, you gotta take advantage of it and do everything that you can, because there's a reason for you having that ability.