Superman keeps flying

There's something oddly appropriate about seeing Wayne Shorter wearing a Superman symbol. True, it's only a dog tag-shaped memento from the Christopher Reeve Foundation hanging from his neck, but the heroic detail suits the saxophonist when considering the impact of his career. As a composer and soloist, the 80-year-old artist has shaped jazz both on his own albums and recordings with Art Blakey, Miles Davis and the landmark jazz-rock fusion group Weather Report. Seated in front of a window at his hillside Los Angeles home overlooking West Hollywood, Century City and, on a clear day, the Pacific, Shorter smiles when asked about the bright red-and-gold logo. He flips it over to show the front, which identifies the foundation and a slogan that seems just as fitting: "Go forward." "I like to turn it around: 'No, this is a two-way street'," he says. It's the kind of oblique yet curiously apt explanation that comes up often while trying to put Shorter's idiosyncratic musical path into words. Because as much as his impact on the sound of jazz and improvised music lends itself to superhuman comparisons, it's not as if the composer has spent 2013 retired in some hillside fortress of solitude. In fact, it's quite the opposite. During what's amounted to a year-long celebration of Shorter's 80th birthday (which culminated last week in an all-star concert at the Hollywood Bowl organised by friend and collaborator Herbie Hancock), Shorter appears determined to look ahead. In addition to the winter premiere of a sprawling composition, Gaia, written for rising star Esperanza Spalding, and a recent live collaboration with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, Shorter also released Without a Net, a relentlessly searching live album with his current quartet that's his first album for Blue Note in more than 43 years. It also happens to be one of the most acclaimed jazz records of the year. "No one knows what's going to happen each night," he says of his ever-exploring band, which features drummer Brian Blade, pianist Danilo Perez and bassist John Patitucci. "I always say, we don't really rehearse," Shorter adds. "How do you rehearse the unknown?" The album features newly expanded takes on older Shorter compositions such as Orbits, which has become a standard since its inception with Miles Davis' quintet in 1967, and Plaza Real, which stems from Shorter's Weather Report days in the 1980s. These set up the debut of Pegasus, which marks a meeting point between orchestral structure and free-flowing improvisation over 23 minutes. Nodding backwards while restlessly surging forwards, the record balances oppositional forces. "I like contradictions," Shorter says with a smile. "When they rub and spark, they make a flame that illuminates." Spalding regularly covers Shorter's music (including the track Endangered Species on her 2012 album Radio Music Society), but when asked to describe what draws her to his music, she pauses to think about it. "I guess it's his spirit and creativity that shines through - his mastery is what really moves us, what draws us to the music." She excitedly recounts what she calls a "scary" experience of first performing with Shorter and Hancock, which in her mind became something of an internal struggle. "It really just feels like there's a dialogue going on like, 'This is so wonderful and fun, oh, my God, I can't believe this, listen to what's happening' and then the other part of me is like 'Don't try to be hip, Esperanza, like chill out'," she says. "Because … you know, these are your superheroes." (That word again.) "He might be … what writing should be about," says trumpeter David Weiss, a frequent explorer of Shorter's compositions, most recently with the new live album, Endangered Species: The Music of Wayne Shorter, which expands five Shorter compositions into a large ensemble. "Just writing a nice melody is not enough, writing some interesting chord changes is not enough," Weiss adds. Shorter's attraction to the unknown and its opportunities has also made him a dedicated fan of science fiction and fantasy. He recounts a fascination with Captain Marvel - later known as Shazam - that began when he was a child, and recommended books by Stephen King, Alan Dean Foster and Whitley Strieber. Shorter also delights in sharing his collection of superhero figures lined up in his office. They share the space with a wall-sized shelf of DVDs (sample title: Donnie Darko), laser discs, an electric keyboard and a row of Grammys. When asked what draws him to the fantastic side of storytelling, he pauses. "It's not what it seems. It's not what you've been taught," he says. "Whatever it is, you have to - yourself - investigate what it is." Finding a unique voice is a theme for Shorter. In a teaching session at the Thelonious Monk Institute at UCLA last spring, Shorter and Hancock led a seven-piece band of students in a class that was less about music and more about self-expression. After one exercise, Shorter singled out the trumpeter for what he heard as a step towards his identity. "The instrument doesn't play you anymore, you play the instrument," Shorter said. "When Wayne plays," Hancock says, "I don't hear a saxophone. I hear Wayne." Shorter expands the idea while remembering conversations with young musicians who ask for advice, which also directs towards himself. "My response is, 'Try to write and play what you wish for'. Take all the music lessons … all your Grammys, all your awards - your credentials - put them aside and think about what are you going to say after you say, 'Once upon a time'." As for what comes next, Shorter and his band recently recorded an album with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. He hopes to keep refining Gaia, the amorphous, shape-shifting composition with Spalding and the LA Philharmonic. "I don't like that word 'finished'," he says. "It's up for review. You can close the book on something, but I look both ways. Your present is a culmination of everything you've done in the past. It's your report card." While the music world has greeted his 80th birthday with an array of tributes to an influential career ("It's because I'm getting old," he says), Shorter still strives to look beyond what everyone else is doing. "To me, the celebration is like a door that's hardly ever open," he says. "They stop at celebrating and never open the door." Shorter leans forward in his chair and pantomimes peering into a tight space. "I want to see what's in here." The Los Angeles Times

Superman keeps flying

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}In a year that's marked his 80th birthday, jazz great Wayne Shorter is busier than ever

In a year that's marked his 80th birthday, jazz great Wayne Shorter is busier than ever