I got a new camera on Friday: the Canon 5D Mark 3.  I’ve only been able to play with it a tiny bit so far – not enough to justify a full blog post – so I’ll intersperse a few pictures from the camera throughout this post, which has nothing to do with cameras or photography or flowers, but everything to do with “Strange Humors” and clarinets.

Back is 2009, a clarinet grad student at Middle Tennessee State University emailed me to ask if I would considering adapting “Strange Humors” – my piece originally written for string quartet and djembe, then arranged for concert band, and then sax quartet and djembe – into yet another version, this one for clarinet quartet and djembe.  Could that work?  I wasn’t sure. My favorite version is still the original for string quartet, because nothing has that same “bite” that you can accomplish with the hard downbow of a single string instrument.  Wouldn’t clarinets end up having to soften every attack, making the piece sound… mushy?  Could clarinets get any sort of edge to their sound, and accomplish it throughout the ensemble?  (Just ask Loki, shot at ISO 8000, and with zero out-of-camera noise reduction applied.)

My response to the grad student – Jessica Harrie (currently a DMA student in the awesome clarinet studio at Michigan State): sure, if I can just transpose the sax quartet parts for you.  Jessica agreed, I made her a set of very ugly parts (that were still labeled “soprano sax,” “alto sax,” etc.), and I completely forgot about the little side project.

In January of this year – a full three years after I’d sent those parts to MTSU – I received an email from somebody with the following text:

Hello… I’m wondering where I can purchase a copy of Strange Humors for clarinet quartet… thanks.

I didn’t even remember making parts for clarinet, so I ignored the email.

Then, two minutes later, another email, from a different person:

Hello! Just heard Strange Humors by John Mackey for clarinet quartet and djembe and I’m wondering where I can purchase this! Thanks.

What the… At first, I thought somebody had arranged it without my permission (that would be: bad) and performed it somewhere, and these two people heard it and liked it (that would be: good). So I replied to one of these emails, asking where they heard it (i.e., whom did I need to sue?). Moments later, a reply with a link to the YouTube recording of the piece. I clicked, saw Jessica’s name, and the whole thing came back to me. Oh right! Nobody would be sued after all (that would be: I guess good?). But how did this sound? Hot damn. It sounded awesome. Check it out:

Damn, that’s a great ensemble! Thanks to their performance, the whole thing works so much better than I expected. Thank you to Jessica Harrie, Clay Hensley, and Cordaro Hudson on Bb soprano clarinets, and Gordon Inman on bass clarinet. Whereas the original version of the piece, with all of the string glissandi, sounded almost Arabic, the clarinets transformed that sound – pretty far culturally – to the world of klezmer.

Hearing that the piece not only works well with clarinets, but becomes a very different piece, I decided to make an official, edited version, which I am releasing today. (The printed version is in a different key than the recording above. I lowered it a full step to match the original string quartet version – and to take advantage of the low concert C of the bass clarinet, one of the coolest notes on any instrument.)  You can view the perusal score on the new page for Strange Humors: version for clarinet quartet and djembe.

One of the benefits of living in Austin was being driving distance from so many great high school bands.  The Dallas area in particular has been so supportive of my music ever since Steve Andre and the Grapevine High School Band performed Redline Tango back in 2005.  (Plus, kudos to the Dallas Symphony, who gave the second performance of “Redline Tango” – the original orchestral version.  Getting a second performance is often a lot harder than a first performance.)  When AEJ and I decided to move to Boston last summer, I knew I didn’t want to give up the opportunity to work with the Texas high schools.  Why not continue to return to Texas during contest season to work with a bunch of bands, back-to-back, every year?  But how would I put such a thing together?

Enter TMEA, and conversations with two people in particular: Benny Davis of Rockwall Heath High School, and Charles Pennington of Allen High School.  Through a series of phone calls and emails, those two conductors put together a string of clinics that I couldn’t have scheduled on my own, largely because I didn’t know who all was performing my music this year.  (When I sell a set through a music store like JW Pepper, I have no idea who ends up with the piece.)  With the addition of a few other clinics requested via email, I ended up with a total of eleven high school clinics between Monday night and Thursday morning, all in the Plano/Allen area, and the Rockwall area.  And here’s what happened.

I arrived on Monday afternoon and rented a car at Advantage Rent-A-Car.  I mention them only because you should never, under any circumstance, rent from Advantage Rent-A-Car.  They might be $5 less per day, but you’ll spend up to 45 minutes waiting for them to “prepare” your car.  After four hours on a plane, I don’t imagine most people would be too excited about standing for 45 minutes to wait for a car, only to end up with a car much larger than requested.  I wanted a small car to save on gas, but they gave me this minivan.  At least it’s a Dodge.  As my friend Bruce Richardson said when he saw it, “A Dodge! You’re just like Eminem.”  Indeed.  And as AEJ said, if you’re driving from school to school to work with kids, the best impression is to arrive in a van, preferably with tinted windows.

This would be my schedule over the next few days:
Monday night: Allen High School Wind Ensemble, working on “Aurora Awakes”
Tuesday, 7:30am: Allen High School, 2nd band, working on “Foundry,” not for contest, but for their spring concert
Tuesday, noon: Plano East High School, top band, on “Aurora Awakes”
Tuesday, 2:30: Allen High School, “IB Music Class” – sort of an AP class for theory, etc.
Tuesday, 4:30: Plano East High School, second band, on “Undertow”
Wednesday, 8am: Rockwall Heath High School, top band, “Aurora Awakes”
Wednesday, 9:30am: Rockwall Heath, second band, “Foundry”
Wednesday, 11:45am: Utley Middle School, “Foundry”
Wednesday, 2:15pm: Rockwall High School, top band, “Hymn to a Blue Hour”
Wednesday, 4:45pm: Clark High School, “Hymn to a Blue Hour”
Thursday, 7:30am: Allen High School, 4th band, “Undertow”
Thursday, noon: home

First stop: Allen High School! Holy crap, this was the most incredible high school facility I’d ever seen. I only saw the new performing arts wing, so I don’t know what happens in the rest of the building, but I assume there’s an indoor pool, a bowling alley, a spa, and possibly a Maserati dealership. This is the lobby – of a high school concert hall.  You know what every high school theater lobby needs? 13 LCD displays.

What would you like to study at Allen?

Culinary Arts? Like, burger flipping? No. Culinary arts. In an industrial grade, stainless steel kitchen that outclasses most restaurants.

And they don’t just prepare that food for themselves, or just for a grade. No, they have a restaurant. A very nice restaurant.  (Presumably, these bars are normally open.)

When I was in high school, I was in drama club (I was the president of the drama club, until I was impeached in a scandal — true story), and I, for a time, thought I’d like to be on TV. (I’ve been told that my large head and tiny body would work well on the small screen.) If my high school had Allen’s TV production facilities, my life might have turned out differently. “Let’s go to John John Mackey for the weather.”

I won’t get into the classrooms, with their massive touch-screen computer displays and stereo systems, because I have a lot of schools to cover. Let’s just say that Allen has an incredible facility, and I’ve never seen anything like it.

And I didn’t even get a picture of their new concert hall, a beauty that seats 1500 and sounds better than just about any college concert hall I’ve heard. Unbelievable. And then there’s the band.

This is one of the largest schools in the United States, and with nearly 5000 students to pull from — just in grades 10-12! — it’s not surprising that this is an incredible band. Solid playing throughout, and Mr. Pennington gets not just technique, but expressive musicianship from his ensemble. It was a great way to start the week.

The next day, after a 7:30am rehearsal at Allen, I headed to Plano East High School — another massive, stunning facility.  As I said on Facebook, if your high school has a manmade lake and a dedicated fine arts building, your school might be fancy.

I worked with two groups there — one on “Aurora Awakes,” another on “Undertow” (with a trip back to Allen in between) — and was again blown away by what these students could do. Incredible technique to spare. Do you think these groups have ever won any trophies? Evelio Villarreal has an incredible program.

Back at Allen for the IB (basically, AP) music class.

Wednesday, I spent the day in Rockwall, about 45 minutes from Allen and Plano. My first stop was Rockwall Heath High School, where I got to work with two really good bands. Also, a flutist in the band, Alex Martinez, drew this. (Happy belated birthday, Alex!) I had a really nice couple of hours at Rockwall Heath.

Then, Utley Middle School, where the band was working on “Foundry.” They were so well-behaved and respectful (aren’t middle school kids supposed to be a pain?) — and they played really well. And they were even smaller than I am!  (That was a nice change of pace.)

One of the coolest things there was this set of “Foundry Bars,” built by John Thomas, the associate band director at Utley. (If anybody wants to order this “four metals” instrument, you can email John via this link.) The sounds were great. John designed them to sound like the samples on my Foundry page.

Here’s a video, including a bonus giggle:

A detail of the side.

Springs to allow the metal bars to “bounce” for added color.

Strike with these small, light hammers.

Next stop: Rockwall High School, with their new Director of Bands, Chris Kosterman.

Chris had emailed me to tell me how much his students had enjoyed working on “Hymn to a Blue Hour,” and that they were looking forward to the clinic. He wrote: “My kids will, for the very first time ever, get to see the art of creating music through the composer’s eyes. I hope we can bring your Hymn to life and discover all of its profound message.” I was a little intimidated. I don’t consider myself or my music to be “profound.” I thought I was just supposed to yell at kids who screw up, make a few jokes, and try not to curse. This was seeming like a different thing.

And it was. I have never heard such an earnest and beautiful reading of “Hymn to a Blue Hour” by a high school ensemble, and few college groups have approached what Chris and his students played for me on Wednesday afternoon. I got a tiny bit teary on the next-to-last page (okay, I admit it), and by the time Chris gently cut off the final chord, I was literally speechless, on the verge of losing my sh*t. To give you an idea of the mindset of these students, during the Q&A after the rehearsal, the principal clarinetist had this question: “To me, ‘Hymn to a Blue Hour’ is about loss and mourning, but also about healing. I’m having trouble determining whether my solos are about the loss, or about the healing. What do you think?” I about lost it again, just to hear a question like that about some little ditty that I would have called “Pretty Song in Eb” if AEJ hadn’t come up with the much better title. I spent 90 minutes with the Rockwall band, and I would have stayed another 90 if I didn’t have to rush back to Plano for another great clinic at…

Clark High School! John Mays and his group were doing “Hymn to a Blue Hour,” too, and this was with a band of only 9th and 10th graders. Jeez, what do they put in the water in Plano?! Two Texas All-State players in the clarinet section alone, another in the trombone section, and there may have been more. Just awesome playing. What are these students going to sound like when they’re seniors?! Also, I now have an idea for a sequel: “Hymn to a Blue Flower.”  (This picture is so much cheerier than the blog post about the Asphalt Cocktail bloody performance injuries.)

Then: dinner at one of my favorite places in Dallas, Reikyu Sushi & Bar. I started with spicy tuna on crunchy rice. Holy hell – nom.

Some nice, fresh sushi – yellowtail and eel.

One of those crazy deep-fried rolls with cream cheese in them. Totally not traditional, but yummy.  Just don’t tell my friends in Japan.

And some albacore tuna.

The next morning, I had one last clinic at Allen High School, and then I headed home to Boston. It was pretty exhausting having up to five clinics in a single day, but it’s hard to complain when you realize that public high school band directors do this every day, five days a week, throughout the school year. That is a hard gig.

My thanks to Charles Pennington, Matt Boening, Bob Ferguson, Sam Woodfield, Evelio Villarreal, John Brennan, Jana Harvey, Benny Davis, Joey Sivinski, Shawn Davis, Chris Kosterman, John Mays, and the bands at Allen, Plano East, Rockwall, Rockwall Heath, Utley Middle School, and Clark High School for an awesome couple of days. I’m totally doing this again next spring. I’m just not renting from Advantage Rent-A-Car.  That company sucks.

When I was young, my dad had the idea of selling a recipe through mail order. “Want to get rich? Mail order,” he insisted. That, or start a religion. “Momism,” he suggested. “You should start the Church of Momism.” I think I nodded, imagined the tremendous wealth that would be coming our way, him selling recipes through mail order, me as an evangelist of Momism, and then I went back to playing video games.

He took action, though. Not just action, he took out an ad in a magazine – I don’t remember which magazine it was – offering to sell his fried rice recipe for a dollar. $1. People ask me, “John, where did you get your business sense?” Look no further. I give you: Dave Fried Rice.

Yes, his fried rice recipe was called “Dave Fried Rice.” Not Dave’s Fried Rice. When I asked him about this, he said he was thinking: subject, verb, predicate. As in:

Jimmy: Did you hear what happened today?!
Tom: No.  What happened?
Jimmy: Dave fried rice!
Tom: Holy shit.

Believe it or not, this didn’t catch on like he’d hoped. After placing the ad in whatever publication, he sold exactly one copy of Dave Fried Rice. It went to somebody in Pennsylvania. Minus printing the recipe (although knowing him, it was probably hand-written), postage, and the cost of the ad, I think he lost about $50 on this venture. Gotta spend money to make money, I always say. But sometimes, even that doesn’t work.

Tonight, AEJ and I made fried rice. Sadly, after all that build up, we didn’t make Dave Fried Rice. Why? Because I don’t have the recipe for Dave Fried Rice, and my dad doesn’t remember it. I wish I’d invested in an original copy. Instead, we made AEJ+JCM Fried Rice. (That’s what happened tonight: AEJ and JCM fried rice.)

As with any cooking adventure, it’s best to start with a cocktail. After that, little else matters.

Our recipe is awfully complicated — for fried rice. Isn’t this supposed to be something you do to make good use of leftovers? Like, grab rice, an onion, an egg, fry it up, and done! Not for us. This recipe starts with shallots. If your recipe starts with shallots, not just an onion, you’re trying too hard.

You toss some shallots, garlic, and green Thai chili peppers into a food processor…

… pulse, and you have this. Don’t sniff this, unless you like a burning sensation when you breathe.

Chop up some onions and green and red peppers, and sauté those for a few minutes, then add snow peas. This smells amazing.

Next you take that shallot/garlic/chili pepper paste and sauté that for a few minutes. To this, you eventually add a mixture of brown sugar, molasses, and soy sauce.

It turns out that five Thai chili peppers makes a dish really spicy. We cut that with fresh pineapple. (We bought it pre-chopped.)

One other crucial ingredient: fresh ginger.  It’s not pretty, but it’s yummy.

For our “leftover rice,” we used rice we made last night. (It really does need to be day-old rice so that it’s dry enough to absorb all of the other flavors.) We make the rice in a Zojirushi rice cooker, which makes rice perfect every time, and even I can’t mess it up. Instead of using water as the base, we use homemade vegetable stock, so the rice is pretty flavorful even before we’ve added all of this other stuff. It doesn’t look like much, though.

Another crucial ingredient for fried rice: eggs.

You make a “well” for them in the center of the rice, and scramble the eggs.

Now we mix the vegetables into the rice.

It’s getting there. Now we add mirin (it’s a low-alcohol rice wine), more soy sauce, and some sweet Thai chili sauce.

Don’t forget the pineapple! Oh, and peanuts. We throw in a handful of salted, roasted peanuts.

Lastly: a secret ingredient that makes a huge difference. Seriously. It adds sweetness, more saltiness, and deepens the flavor overall.

Throw a few scallions on top, and: voila! AEJ+JCM Fried Rice!  (That’s what happened tonight.  AEJ+JCM fried rice.)