CLARINET & TRUMPET

Two instruments wind up playing beautiful music together—after a few sour notes.

Thanks to a tube of loose beads embedded in the spine, the book itself turns into a rhythm instrument when shaken—but there’s no (overt) connection made between this gimmick and the actual story. All is harmony between Trumpet and Clarinet at first…but then in swaggers Oboe to turn Clarinet’s head (“ ‘Is that a double reed?’ gasped Clarinet. ‘I know, right?!’ said Oboe”). Oboe is followed by Trombone, Flute, and others so that soon the band room is dominated by rival camps of brass and woodwinds. At last, though, following some painful discord, Clarinet hears Saxophone’s jazzy honks and realizes that Trumpet’s bright “buzz and blast” would make ideal harmony. Trumpet responds to her overture by agreeing to be tuned, and soon all the instruments (with a few newcomers of the percussion persuasion) have found a new groove. Herzog pastes broadly expressive facial features on the instruments and stands them up in stylish postures on stick limbs. In the climactic ensemble, each of the three coupled anthropomorphic pairs consists of one light- and one dark-colored instrument. Whether there’s anything to be made of that, there’s a bright, infectious energy to the illustrations that plays well with the narrative’s musical idiom.

Unexploited novelty aside, a clever improvisation with neither literal nor figurative strings attached.