Terence Blanchard on bringing jazz to the opera, learning from Wayne Shorter, and more

Champion dates back to 2013, when it was first created. I’m curious to know the history of how this opera came to be, and why Emile Griffith? What was it about his story that stuck out to you?

It came to be from the Opera Theatre of Saint Louis. That’s how it started. They initially wanted to do an opera to attract a wider audience. They wanted to do a children’s opera at first, and they wanted to do a jazz opera. The more we started to talk about it, the more we started to think that maybe we should put this on the main stage. Once we did, it just evolved from there. I’m a big boxing fan, and a friend of mine, Michael Bentt, who’s a heavyweight champion, he’s the one who told me about Emile Griffith. When I learned about his life, I just was really heartbroken to think that somebody could achieve [what he did] and not celebrate it with anybody that he truly loved. Also, the whole idea of redemption was something that really appealed to me — the idea of forgiving yourself. He had to forgive himself for doing what he was trying to do in the boxing ring.

It’s a very emotional story about this life that he had to keep quiet as he came into his own queerness. It’s a very delicate story to tell.

It is. It deals with so many issues. It deals with [him] being part of the queer community, it deals with the medical industry in terms of dementia, and it deals with the fighting industry in terms of regulations. The opera deals with a lot of issues, but the main story was really about Emile and him forgiving himself, because he carried that burden throughout his entire life. There’s a documentary called Ring of Fire, where you can actually see when Benny Paret’s son tells him the family doesn’t harbour any ill will towards [him]. He cried like a baby, because he had been holding on to that hurt — killing his opponent in the ring — for over 30 years.

When I was doing some reading about Champion, I was really struck by something that one of your teachers, Roger Dickerson, once said about how “the library of music for orchestral music has been limited” and “there needs to be an expansion of it, through jazz.” Why do you think he thought jazz was the way? Did that change the way you thought about opera?

His whole perspective was that if you look at all the great composers in history, they took folklore and used it for musical creation. With Stravinsky, you can hear Hungarian folktales throughout all of his creations. [Dickerson] thought that … jazz is American folklore. To write new music that could be considered influenced by American culture, it would have to involve some elements of jazz. When I started to write Champion, I didn’t want it to be known as a “jazz opera.” That’s why we called it an “opera in jazz.” It’s not like you have the Basie band swinging from beginning to end. But the elements of harmonic progression, phrasing, rhythm, and all of those things are part of the tools that I used to tell the story.

I feel like so much of your music is about telling these stories that are so important to tell. That feels like it’s in your lifeblood.

It’s always been a part of my upbringing. I’ve always been fascinated and influenced by music that deals with our history. I’ll never forget the first time I heard John Coltrane play “Alabama,” which was written for the four little girls that were killed in the church. It really had a heavy effect on me. It opened up a whole notion of having a responsibility to tell these stories in such a way that keeps them alive, and hopefully we get to a point where we learn from them and move on and become better people and a better society.

You’re coming to Toronto with both the E-Collective and the Turtle Island Quartet. You have quite a history with both groups. What does it mean to bring both of them on to the stage with you?

It means a lot because we’ve been having a lot of fun. We’ve been having a great time. When we worked with the string quartet over a year ago now, we just thought it was going to be a one-off. But man, it’s become like an annual thing. We have such a great time playing with this group, and both groups are inspiring each other. You can see it on the stage. We just love to play, and we have a great time feeding off of each other.

I was going to ask what people can expect when they come to see you, but that sounds like it — that electricity, that vibrance of playing together.

Oh, definitely. We have great, talented musicians. Amazing musicians in both groups. The string quartet, they’re revolutionary, man. I think those guys are changing the whole idea of what a string quartet is. What they do is really incredible and phenomenal, and we love featuring them every night.

Your latest album Absence is a tribute to Wayne Shorter. Can you put into words what he meant to you?

The first thing I learned from Wayne was just to be honest. Learn your craft, that’s No. 1, but utilize your craft for a purpose. One of the things in the documentary about Wayne that I love is that all of the things that I’ve analyzed intellectually over the years were compositions that he had written for people that he loved and cared about. They weren’t intellectual exercises — they were statements of caring and passion. So for me, it’s about learning your craft and developing the tools so you can speak in a very deep manner and a very creative manner. The other thing [I learned] is to take chances, man. Don’t be afraid. Go out there and be bold. We actually play a tune that’s based on something Wayne said in an interview when he was asked what jazz means — he said, “Jazz means, ‘I dare you.'” That statement itself really sticks with me. It’s not about trying to uphold a tradition, or trying to live in the past. It’s about trying to be bold and look toward the future.

This interview has been edited and condensed.