Joseph Redmond, a sixth grader at Mauro-Sheridan Interdistrict Magnet School who plays the baritone. Lucy Gellman Photos.
In a classroom at Mauro-Sheridan Interdistrict Magnet School, sixth graders William Garzon and Joseph Redmond lifted their instruments to their mouths, feet tapping the floor as a voice counted them in. Bright, wintery light bounced off the snow and streamed through the windows. The growl of a trumpet came from an office nearby. Seated beside each other, William and Joseph didn’t take their eyes off the music in front of them. Clarinet and baritone lifted off, and began to take flight.
Across town at John C. Daniels School of International Communication, Olivia Kristina Leigh Diaz unpacked her clarinet, and warmed up with a scale. On the stage, band teacher Bryan Carrera looked on, beaming.
All three are young musicians in the New Haven Public Schools, which for the first time this year sent students to the Connecticut Music Educators Association’s (CMEA) all-state Elementary Honors Festival, where they participated in a full day of ensemble workshops and band performances with students from across the state. Nominated by their teachers, all three spent last Friday at the University of Bridgeport, learning alongside students and educators from across Connecticut.
This year, those teachers include Marissa Iezzi, who directs the band at Mauro-Sheridan, and Carrera, who teaches music at John C. Daniels. Both are products of Connecticut public schools: Iezzi grew up studying music in Wallingford, and Carrera learned the tuba at Worthington Hooker, then graduated from Cooperative Arts & Humanities High School. Both now play enough instruments to comprise a small orchestra.
“It’s exciting! I’m very proud of them,” said Iezzi in an interview last Thursday morning, as students returned to school for the first time in five days. “They’re learning how to be independent on their instrument,” and also learning teamwork at the same time. “It’s a mix of both.”
This year, both she and Carrera nominated students as a way to recognize their talents, and push them beyond their comfort zones. When CMEA let them know that the three had been selected, it felt like a big deal: Iezzi can’t remember a time in recent history when kids at the city’s elementary schools have been able to attend a statewide event like this (prior to her time at Mauro-Sheridan, she taught at Truman School and James Hillhouse High School). It allows the district, where arts educators have had to fight to keep their jobs, to see the impact that music education is having in real time.
While all three students are also part of programs like Music In The Schools, All-City Ensembles and the Morse Summer Music Academy, all initiatives with the Yale School of Music, CMEA’s all-state band is different: it gives them a chance to meet other kids from districts around Connecticut, including those that fund the arts more robustly, or teach music education in different ways. When they have the chance to play with new people, they may see or hear something that they wouldn’t otherwise get to experience, and bring it back into their classrooms.
As they jumped into their final practice sessions last Thursday, all three students shook off some serious pre-performance jitters, and said that they were feeling more or less ready to jump in. Between snow days in January and February, they lost four days of rehearsal at school, where Iezzi and Carrera have been working with them both in and outside of class (both said the additional hours are worth it: it’s a chance to show the district some of the talent flourishing right in its own backyard). And yet, they seemed as prepared as they’d ever be, with neat collections of sheet music and a final day to go over any problem areas.
Students at the competition on Friday. Marissa Iezzi Photo.
“It’s nice!” said Carrera, who fell in love with the tuba in New Haven, studied performance and music education at the University of Connecticut, and then chose to return to the district that raised him. “For me, I just do it because some students need to step out of their comfort zones.”
“I think music is the best example of how to show off your work,” he added a few minutes later. “It’s like I tell students, ‘There’s no cheat code. You just have to put in the work, and put in the hours.’”
It’s also a reminder that young artists exist in every school. Mauro-Sheridan and John C. Daniels aren’t known for their arts programming, like some of the magnet middle and high schools in the district. And yet, maybe they should be: Iezzi and Carrera respectively have both been rebuilding their bands since the Covid-19 pandemic, which made ensemble work temporarily impossible. Last year, Mauro-Sheridan sent a student soloist to play with the New Haven Chamber Orchestra. Friday, John C. Daniels showed out with a student jazz ensemble and New Orleans-style second line as part of its Black History Month showcase.
Olivia, who started studying the clarinet at the end of fourth grade, has been putting in those hours that Carrera asks of his students. Since learning about the all-state band, she’s had to carve out extra time for rehearsal at home and at school, with four pieces she wasn’t expecting to learn. Each night, she makes time to practice on top of cleaning, homework, and the pieces she’s already learning for the school’s band.
“It shows the bravery in each person going and the skill that all of us have to work hard for,” she said. “We’re working really hard. I did it because I could.”
As she chatted, she assembled her clarinet, rifling through an overstuffed folder until she found a copy of Greg Hillis’ “Alpha Squadron” arranged for concert band. On the sheet music, she had transcribed the first four bars of notes, as a way to help herself learn the piece. C and D notes danced alongside E and F notations on the page.
“I kept getting confused, so I wrote them out,” she said confidently before warming up with a scale. She later added that she sees herself staying with the instrument for as long as she can: she likes that it lets her express herself.
Back in Iezzi’s band classroom, William and Joseph were running through details for Friday one last time, copies of Carol Brittin Chambers’ “Rock Attack” and John Higgins’ “Latin Magic” still tucked safely away beside their instrument cases. William, who picked up the clarinet in a nod to his two older sisters, sat against the stage, ready for the event. At home and at school, he said, playing helps him fight boredom and regain focus, so much so that sometimes he plays just for fun.
“I feel excited that I was nominated and accepted,” he said. “I haven’t done anything like this before.”
“I’m happy!” Joseph chimed in. “I’m kind of nervous about it, but I like it. My family cheers me on.”
When he joined the band last year, he hoped to play the trombone, just like his older brother. But the embouchure—that’s a fancy way of saying the mouthpiece—was too big. Then he thought about the tuba, but that wasn’t an option either. When Iezzi paired him with a baritone, something clicked. Joseph, who is from a musical family, had found his own instrumental home.
As he sat down next to William to practice, Iezzi counting them in, a person could see and hear that in real time. Iezzi tapped her foot, singing out the notes with a patient, low “Bah-bah-buh!” that somehow still managed to be crisp and sunny. Beside her, Joseph stopped playing, and whispered something, the baritone still propped upright in his hands.
“I’m sorry?” Iezzi nodded her head as he motioned to his mouth, and then back to the instrument, the words so quiet they were inaudible from just a few feet away. “Your voice?” She stood, lifted a trombone that seemed to materialize from thin air, and sat back down beside them. Then they started the piece again, their three feet tapping the floor in unison. Two sneakers bobbed brightly beside Iezzi’s dress shoe.
This time, the brass burst forward, confident and clear. Baritone hummed as William played out a string of notes that made it sound like “Frère Jacques” had entered the chat. Then the two instruments were in step with each other, marching forward with a precision that filled the room. They swooped, climbing upwards, and then dipped back down. They paused, then delivered the finale without a single squeak. They were ready.