In David Lynch’s Blue Velvet, the villainous Frank Booth (memorably portrayed by Dennis Hopper) is charmed by his underworld pal Ben. “Wow, suave, man!” Frank declares. “You are so fuckin’ suave.” Ben effortlessly closes his eyes, grins, and offers the slightest of shrugs.

For those of you who haven’t been blessed to meet deVon Russell Gray, well… he’s suave, man.

Gray, a multi-instrumentalist and music creator whose output encompasses a variety of styles and genres, is a thoughtful and sensitive soul - as interested as he is interesting. Gray’s music reflects equal reverence for Eric B. & Rakim, Mingus, and Bartók and his achievements in composition include a McKnight Fellowship, participation in the Gabriela Lena Frank Creative Academy for Musicians, guest lecturing at St. Olaf College, and an inaugural Jerome Hill Artist Fellowship. Gray is Composer-in-Residence for the Schubert Club (Saint Paul, Minnesota).

Over the course of a three-hour Zoom hangout, we discussed various creative endeavors while drinking mezcal and watching Mel Brooks’ classic spoof Spaceballs. The conversation began on the lighter side then gradually increased in intensity. Here are some highlights presented in twelve short movements.

Movement I - Mezcal and Incense

DVRG: Apparently Millennials are drinking mezcal like it’s water. The numbers have shot up the past couple of years.
AT: I have to admit that even though I’m no stranger to the world of spirits, you were actually the one that got me going on mezcal about a year ago. We were hanging out in St. Paul after Megan [Ihnen] and I performed and you were preaching the gospel of mezcal. I decided I needed it in my life. Let’s pour some and see what we think. Cheers! Mine [brand redacted] doesn’t smell too smokey.
DVRG: This one’s kinda smokey.
AT: I’m smelling black pepper. Mint. [tastes] Hm. Okay.
DVRG: Mine’s tequila-ish. There’s some smoke to it but mostly in the nose.
AT: Mine is super smooth. And I almost don’t mean it as a compliment. It’s a “chuggable mezcal.” But there’s a pleasant tamarind taste.
DVRG: This one’s got that harshness that I’ve come to enjoy from the agave juices.
AT: So on a scale from 1 to 10, what’s your rating for the one you’re drinking?
DVRG: 4.5.
AT: I was thinking 4 for mine but I’m raising it to 5 because it might make a decent mezcal for cocktails.
DVRG: I love mezcal cocktails! Get some citrus in there like blood orange and add a sparkling element…
AT: What are you lighting up over there?
DVRG: This is copal. It’s a resin. I’ve been burned out on traditional incense for a long time so I’ve been seeking alternatives.

Movement II - Running and Survival

DVRG: I am a runner now.
AT: I know! I see you on Instagram stories busting it. Have you always been a runner or is this something new you’re getting into?
DVRG: My trainer who recently moved to Hawaii told me that running was going to give me the change I was looking for. When COVID came I wanted to be my strongest and most fit ever. Then the fucking George Floyd murder happened and I realized I needed to be strong as well as fit. When the shit pops off, I want to be ready.
AT: I totally understand. You begin to see fitness as a way to survive.
DVRG: I’ve also been a fan of “survivalist” shows or “Alaskan homesteading” shows. There’s a show called Alone where they drop you off…
AT: There’s a part of my brain that would love to do that and then there’s another part that’s like “you would fucking die in three hours.” Or maybe not! If you got dropped off in the middle of Vancouver, do you think you’d make it back to safety? What if that were this interview? “Surprise, motherfucker, we’re getting on a plane to the Canadian wilderness...”
DVRG: I love the folks who think they have any idea how long they’d last. I can’t imagine I’d last more than two weeks. Especially if you can’t catch food.

Movement III - Kandinsky

Wassily Kandinsky, Gelb - Rot - Blau — Wassily Kandinsky, *Gelb - Rot - Blau*

AT: I see a Kandinsky print on your wall back there. It’s interesting because Kandinsky might be the first visual artist that I really connected with. What is it for you? What part of you vibes with Kandinsky?
DVRG: For the same reason I love Ornette Coleman or Cecil Taylor. It looks improvised a bit. It’s abstract and it’s self-directed. You can find your own way through it, find your own stories.
AT: There’s so much about it that’s deliberate but leaves open multiple paths.

Movement IV - Mel Brooks and LSD

AT: Let’s give it up for Mel Brooks being eco-conscious thirty years ago, right? The whole plot of this movie is going to be about fucking up the environment and how we shouldn’t do it.
DVRG: …because he was watching TV at the right moment and saw the indigenous man with a single tear rolling down his cheek, high on peyote at the time…
AT: Have you ever done peyote?
DVRG: Not yet.
AT: That’s the right answer.
DVRG: I’ve just recently opened myself up to the idea of LSD.
AT: I would love to go on that journey with you. One of the things that holds people back from trying LSD is this myth that if you ingest even the smallest amount it will result in total obliteration. Like if they have even a fraction of a tab the freakin’ walls will melt and they’ll experience ego death. That’s not how it works…

Movement V - Rick Moranis and Timpani

Rick Moranis as Darth Helmet in Mel Brooks’ Spaceballs — Rick Moranis as Darth Helmet in Mel Brooks’ *Spaceballs*

AT: Rick Moranis is just killin’ it.
DVRG: The tie he wears in this movie gets me. There’s a good underscore in this moment here…
AT: For sure.
DVRG: Other than Rouse’s Trombone Concerto, this might be the only time I give a fuck about timpani.
AT: I have an unhealthy obsession with timpani. The beginning of my Symphony No. 2 contains a massive timpani solo. I can’t stop myself.
DVRG: I read a quote earlier this year by Takemitsu shitting on westerners and their obsession with timpani, like “I really don’t get it why y’all think this is a necessary sound…”
AT: Man, I’ve never noticed the absence of timpani in his scores. Takemitsu is like, “Al… fix your life.”

Movement VI - Animation

DVRG: Something I’ve been revisiting and watching again from episode one is DuckTales. That shit holds up. It’s so good. Some of the episodes - some of which I haven’t seen since I was eleven years old - I can give you the dialogue before it happens. I didn’t know I had absorbed it so deeply!
AT: You were just in it with Scrooge McDuck. I haven’t thought about that show in ages. But that title song, though…
DVRG: So good.
AT: So good! Some of those late 1980s to mid-90s cartoons have incredible theme songs. The one for Hey Arnold! is just this dope jazz/hip hop bop that absolutely crushes. It kills.
DVRG: I don’t think I recall that one. I’m going to have to listen… [listens] Oh. Oh! I do remember this. Those changes! Sexy. That’s good shit.
AT: I just did a rewatch of all of Rick and Morty. That show is excellent. The fanbase sucks, but…
DVRG: I’ve been locked in a continuous Rick and Morty cycle. I just finish it then immediately start again. It’s the first thing I stream in the morning. That or Drunk History.
AT: What are the aspects of that animated show that attract you so much?
DVRG: Years ago I got into Archer then Bob’s Burgers. I realized there were elements from childhood I wanted to retain for the rest of my life. I decided it would definitely be animation and candy. Rick and Morty combines adult humor, layers upon layers of pop culture references, a sci-fi element, and animation. Plus, I love the character development. Jerry [Smith, the father-figure character in Rick and Morty] is a total piece of shit.
AT: Jerry starts off as merely pathetic then by Season 3 he’s irredeemable. It’s marvelous.

Movement VII - Comedy

AT: Mel Brooks is definitely someone I would like to talk to regarding their creative process.
DVRG: Is there anyone else on that list that’s a maker of comedy?
AT: John Mulaney. But my number one comedian whose process I would love insight into is Dave Chappelle. There’s an incredible fluidity of form with Chappelle’s joke telling that blows my mind. There’s a constant ebb and flow of the length of jokes in his set. Who’s on your list of comedians whose brain you’d like to pick?
DVRG: Chris Rock. His standup was the only place where he got to reveal the true prowess of his intellect. He’s savvy with politics and American hypocrisy. He’s always on the nose. I showed one of his older specials to my girlfriend the other day and she said “holy shit, how is this still so relevant to today?”
AT: Because Chris Rock fuckin’ knows.
DVRG: And because, sadly, ain’t shit changed in fifteen years.

Movement VIII - The Creative Impulse, Craft, and The Arc

AT: A lot of times when we talk about creativity we talk about the “craft” aspect of it. “What’s in your tool kit? How do you develop an idea?” I am increasingly interested just in the origin of ideas. Where do ideas come from? That first spark before you do anything with the idea. Before you even know how one could possibly use it. What’s the “point zero” for you with your creativity? Where does it come from?
DVRG: I’ve spent so much time trying to suss that out that I’ve worked my way back to: “I have no answers.”
AT: Perfect. [both laugh]
DVRG: Going back to Chappelle, I often wonder about his relationship with his writing partner.
AT: Neal Brennan…
DVRG: Yeah. And same with Richard Pryor and Paul Mooney. I want to know at what point in Dave Chappelle’s life did he recognize that a writing partner was a necessary element? And how do you find that person? I want to know who his failed writing partners were. A comedy set is a DJ set so it’s all about arcs, the lengths of the jokes, where they go, how big the laughs are, how long the pauses are, and so on. How much of it is stealing? That’s what technique is. You steal then it becomes internalized and you shape it to what your needs are and your voice eventually finds its way out.
AT: That’s a solid definition.
DVRG: The first time I really thought about superimposing the DJ set element into performance was when I toured with Brother Ali because that’s how he works his sets. He wanted to keep the same energy he had when working with a DJ when he was working with us as a band. So we had to rehearse really hard to get our transitions and our cuts as tight as a DJ’s would be. And that’s not exactly natural for a band to hairpin that way. Now every set I’m a part of I always think about the whole arc - the whole feel of it. We know the two things people remember most about a performance are the beginning and the end but you have a lot of control over what you do with their emotions throughout.
AT: So I’m assuming you bring this approach to composition as well. “What’s the arc,” right?
DVRG: It’s that plus something that I took from Chastity Brown. Early in her life she thought she was on a path to becoming a music minister. She was in a mentor experience with an older music director and they had her lead some songs and it didn’t go too well. The director said, “you know why that didn’t go well, right?” And she said, “no, actually, I don’t.” And they said, “you tried to take us to a place you haven’t been to yourself yet. Until you’ve known that whole arc of that piece, how do you think you can make it happen spontaneously?” So whenever I have a set to build or a piece to build, it becomes a reverse engineering problem. I imagine myself at that performance as a performer and as an audience member. Know the space and the situation. What’s it feel like? What’s the mood? What’s the energy? That brings in some Sun Ra elements: play to the room and shape your performance to the space. Walk every corner of the space. Know what the acoustics are.

Movement IX - Bond Themes

AT: Arright. Gotta get the 80s pop song that mentions the name of the movie in the movie. It would be so great to write the theme song for a major movie. Not score it - just write the theme song. That would be so much fun.
DVRG: I watched Quantum of Solace the other day and I forgot that Bond theme song was done by Jack White and Alicia Keys.
AT: Huh. Really?
DVRG: It’s… not great. But it’s Jack White and it’s good. They bring in the “Bond horns” and it’s nice. Who’s got the new one? Billie Eilish. I love that they try to be as hip and as pop and as close to number one as possible. We’ve had Tina Turner and Gladys Knight…
AT: …and Duran Duran in the 80s…
DVRG: That’s such a good one, oh my God!
AT: It really is! You could know shit about Duran Duran but be into that one.
DVRG: I had a hankering for Ludacris the other day and I had forgotten about how good his song was for the second Austin Powers movie.
AT: Kids sleep on Ludacris these days thinking he’s just that dude from Fast and Furious movies, but…
DVRG: He was really good. He was on it. The question is: when will there be a Bond song headed by a rapper? They should give Kendrick one.
AT: I’m actually a little mad at you now. [both laugh]
DVRG: Kendrick just won the Pulitzer. Come on. Give him a Bond movie.
AT: I’m a little mad at you because that doesn’t already exist. Now I’m like “let’s pause this movie so we can listen to Kendrick’s Bond song. That’s online, right?” That’s one of my favorite tells for how I know I’ve heard a great idea - I immediately get irritated that it doesn’t exist right now. I’m going to go to sleep thinking about this.

Movement X - Influence of Media

AT: Obviously you’re a big consumer of media. We both are.
DVRG: I had my years of self-loathing about that. I thought that my friends were more high-brow than I was because they got their shit from books…
AT: Me, too! And it’s not as if I’m not a reader, but I’ve certainly watched more movies in my life than I’ve ever read books.
DVRG: Same.
AT: Do you feel any kind of one-to-one creative transfer? I’ll be honest: there are times I feel more inspired to create my music by the movies and shows I watch than other pieces of music I listen to. Do you experience something similar?
DVRG: It’s hard for me to trace things in my music. There’s so much of the magic I don’t want to analyze.

Movement XI - Morality, Society, and Making Art

AT: I have a weird relationship with moral messages in any kind of art form. How do moral issues or current events factor into anything that you create? I’m not looking for a specific answer here. I’m not setting you up. I’m curious. I’ve struggled with this recently. I’m not exactly quiet about my political beliefs so I wonder why it’s not a more overt part of my art making.
DVRG: It all affects me. As much as I wished to remain my naive eighteen-year-old self who thought I would get to just have my immaculate composition hut on the side of a mountain somewhere beautiful and pastoral and write symphonies with birdsong, it has not been that way at all with any of the commissions in my adulthood. I always pushed back against the idea of being some sort of clichéd black composer. Like I’m not gonna set the text of Martin Luther King or Frederick Douglass in a fuckin’ tone poem. That’s not my thing. Love that, but that’s for them to do. I was leaning more into non-programmatic stuff. If there is an element of these kinds of issues, it’s not overt for me. You might have to dig into me or where I am right now to understand it. I’m an organic creator and I let the work guide me. I may start with a blank sheet of paper but once the first note is down it starts to talk to me.
AT: I see.
DVRG: As much as I am able I try to invite the ancestors in and let them guide my pen. And the work always ends up being about my experiences as a black-bodied person in America at this time. So every piece of mine is about the injustice and nastiness of this country. So there’s always James Baldwin at the core of things even if I don’t put it in the program notes, it’s there because I’m always reading him. I’m always reading poetry, I’m always reading histories, and I’m always up on current events. And there has yet to be a commission window where no nasty shit has gone on. It’s always in there.
AT: Yeah.
DVRG: The piece that I wrote for big band, All Kinds of Blues, Right?!, is directly related to Philando Castile’s murder. The piece for [pianist] Sarah Bob last fall, Simplicity, Goodness, and Truth, is about the dream I have that eventually I will get to be free in this life and free as a composer and creator and that I will get to create something that is simply beautiful. That wasn’t it, but there’s still the dream that I’ll get there.
AT: Whether or not you are conscious of it, events work their way into the fabric of the composition.
DVRG: I was in attendance at a lecture by Libby Larsen and I distinctly remember she said, “composers write in the emotional language of their time.”

Movement XII - Ancestors, “Tuned In,” Flowers

AT: What does “I try to listen to the ancestors” mean to you?
DVRG: I’ve always felt a kindred spirit to William Grant Still, to [Duke] Ellington, to the folks who left this plane before I was born. I feel connected to [Henry] Threadgill, who we still have. I’ve been trying to invite them in. Ten years ago I wasn’t burning shit. I didn’t have sage bundles or fucking copal. But it’s a progression. You have the tools you need when you need them. I don’t know what tools I’ll need three years from now, but they’ll come. But I’ve also felt kindred with [Wolfgang Amadeus] Mozart in that if I edit and edit and edit, I lose the thread.
AT: I understand that.
DVRG: It reminds me of something I heard [John] Corigliano say that if he had four months for a commission, the first three months it looks like you’re doing nothing on the outside. But all this math is going on inside all the time. Stuff comes to you. “It’s not this; it’s this other thing.” Inviting the ancestors also became more clear after I had my first successful positive trip on mushrooms. A friend told me you can control them…
AT: Yeah, you have to guide them…
DVRG: I was like “no one told me that - how the fuck would I know that?” So I had a good experience and I felt like the presence of some ancestors came into the space with me. They shared truths and I feel like they never left me. Now the trick is getting into the groove. The voice is there. The piece for Sarah Bob - I can hear me in there but some of it feels like gifts.
AT: You also said “tuned in” earlier. It seems like that’s what you’re describing. It’s an important concept. I went several years between trips. I had one within the past couple of years where I realized I still had a ton of creative energy in me but I was blocking it. It occurred that I need time and space to let it out. I wasn’t providing the framework and direction. I needed to tune in.
DVRG: My production partner believes that all police cadets should have to trip. I absolutely agree. How could you come out of that experience and still think you get to murder people?
AT: Absolutely. So what would “tuned in” feel like to you?
DVRG: It’s a state that I’ve learned that I can manipulate or manufacture. It takes me about three hours to get into it. Stream images, play some music, get the energy right. I’ll try some meditation but I don’t allow that tool enough access in my life. I like to fight and I know meditation will suck the fight out of me. Some scores need a little punchiness. It’s about what needs to be present. I don’t know. When I get it I feel like I can play a couple of chords at the piano and find the right frequency - so it is like tuning in a radio dial. Thank you for asking the question. I still feel like I don’t have the language.
AT: That’s the thing about it, right? There aren’t adequate words but I know precisely what you’re talking about! It feels hilarious to me when I’m tuned in.
DVRG: Does it feel like cheating a little bit? [laughs]
AT: Yeah! It feels like I’m getting away with some straight nonsense. Like I’m creating and I’m walking through the forest and I’ve stumbled across a big sack of money and I know it doesn’t belong to me but you better believe I’m stuffing my pockets and getting the fuck out. That’s what tuned in feels like: impossibly lucky.
DVRG: I feel it more often as a performer. Right music, right people, right time - you feel something extra-musical that you can’t quantify.
AT: You can close your eyes and start a note at the same time as your partner.
DVRG: Cosmic entanglement.
AT: “I knew you four thousand years ago on a different plane of existence.” I didn’t always believe stuff like that.
DVRG: Meshell Ndegeocello has a lyrical notion: “We were once flowers.” That sticks with me. And we were in the same bouquet.

Issue No. 4: Conversation with deVon Russell Gray (in 12 Short Movements)