Master of Paradox
“It’s like asking, ‘Do you ever get tired of living?’ You do, but it’s always temporary.”
Chris Potter is laughing as he tries to explain how, 30 years after he arrived in New York as one of jazz music’s most heralded prodigies, he’s still motivated to write, record, and perform. For the acclaimed saxophonist, now 48, the reason is so fundamental that it almost sounds hyperbolic and a little dark—to say that playing is like breathing might seem like a line consciously designed to project seriousness, and Potter recognizes that as he says it. But for him, it’s also true.
“Music has always been a vehicle for me to investigate the things that are important about life. It’s been a way of figuring out what it is I need to say,” he says. “Plus, I keep learning new things about it.”
As much as music is intrinsic to Potter’s existence, there’s still some dissonance between his work as a player and bandleader and his presentation in person. He’s soft-spoken and utterly unpretentious—nothing about the way he looks or talks suggests that he’s one of the most successful jazz musicians of his generation. Sitting in a Park Slope coffee shop not far from where he lives with his wife and 10-year-old daughter, Potter answers questions with such clarity and focus that there seem to be few he hasn’t already pondered on his own time. His presence is warm and steady, without a trace of the kind of affect that so often (mis)defines jazz in the public eye.
“It’s all about his sincerity, his diligence, and his work ethic—even though he wouldn’t proclaim that he has one,” says drummer Eric Harland, who has known Potter since 1998 and played with him on his 21st album as a bandleader, , released earlier this
