Book bans are heavy on Jaleel Shaw’s mind. During our interview, the alto saxophonist and composer returns repeatedly to the subject, reflecting on the Trump-era push to purge “gender ideology,” “critical race theory” and other so-called “woke” narratives from schools, the military and public discourse.
To him, it’s a direct attack on the pluralism America claims to uphold. Shaw recalls that he was never taught Black history in school; what he did learn about Black culture, music and identity came from his mother. “And this is where they want to ban the books,” he says, his voice tinged with quiet incredulity.
That struggle against erasure gives weight to Painter of the Invisible — out now via Changu Records, featuring pianist Lawrence Fields, bassist Ben Street, drummer Joe Dyson and guitarist Lage Lund. Vibraphonist Sasha Berliner guests on “Gina’s Ascent.”
Shaw’s fourth independent release is his first as a leader in over a decade — sideman credits meanwhile include Roy Haynes, Dave Holland and Tom Harrell, to name a few. The album finds him mining the legacy of Black history: personal and collective, spoken and unspoken. From “Contemplation” to “Baldwin’s Blues” to “Invisible Man,” it’s a work rooted in inheritance, inquiry, grief and gratitude — a defiant act of remembrance.
The title comes from Shaw’s friend Daniela Yohannes, a London-born, French Caribbean–based artist whose work, she writes, “dwells on alternative Black realities … through magical symbolism.” Her Instagram handle — Painter of the Invisible — resonated deeply.
“One thing I’ve thought about a lot recently is that as a musician, I feel like I’m a painter of the invisible,” Shaw says. “I’m a painter of sound. You can’t see sound, but you can feel it — and it moves you.” He connects this to the West African concept of the griot: a living vessel of memory and oral history. “As musicians, we are painters of that information,” he adds. “Sometimes, it’s not as attainable as a book.”
He’s known his fellow “painters” — Fields, Street, Dyson, Lund, Berliner — for years. Lund appeared on his first two albums, Perspective (2005) and Optimism (2008). He’s played with Fields for over a decade, calling him “a very down-to-earth, humble, musical, expressive musician.” Dyson and Street, he notes, are among the most in-demand players in jazz — Dyson with Pat Metheny and Chief Xian aTunde Adjuah, Street with Billy Hart and Andrew Cyrille, among many others.
Shaw met Berliner while subbing in Linda May Han Oh’s ensemble at The New School. “She sounded incredible,” he remembers. Berliner later invited him to guest on her 2022 album Onyx. When he wrote “Gina’s Ascent” in tribute to a cousin who died in 2020, he immediately heard Berliner’s sound in it.
“One thing that really mattered to me on this album is that we were really playing together a lot,” Shaw says. “I wanted to commit to a band sound — a group that not only knows the music, but understands where I’m coming from compositionally, emotionally, musically. And they brought their A-game.”
Gina is just one of the many lives honored on Painter of the Invisible. “Distant Images” pays homage to Shaw’s grandmother, “Pinky,” who died in 2016. “My grandma was a sports aficionado,” Shaw says. “She’d always grill me on who was playing for what team. We talked a lot before she passed — I could reach out to her about anything.”
“Baldwin’s Blues” stems from one of Shaw’s deepest influences: James Baldwin. “Lately I’ve been watching a lot of his debates and interviews,” he says. “When I think about activism — someone who speaks not only for Black culture, but for humanity — I think about Baldwin. He talks about how racism can make you start to agree with the people discriminating against you — to the point where you don’t even believe in yourself,” Shaw recalls. “I’ve walked into stores already self-conscious, thinking they’re watching me — before I’ve even seen anyone.”
“Tamir” honors Tamir Rice, the 12-year-old boy killed by Cleveland police in 2014. “What happened with Tamir struck me at a time when I was becoming numb,” Shaw says. “Trayvon Martin, Philando Castile — it was just happening back to back to back, to the point where you weren’t even shocked anymore.”
Tamir’s youth pierced that numbness. “I picked up the saxophone when I was eight. By [Tamir’s] age, I was just starting to get things rolling,” he says. “I thought about everything I’ve done in my life … and realized this young boy would never get to pursue his dreams.”
“Meghan,” a delicate soprano saxophone feature, pays tribute to arts patron and Revive Music Group founder Meghan Stabile, who died by suicide in 2022 at age 39. A tireless advocate for Black American music, Stabile was both a close collaborator and a friend. “She hit the ground running,” Shaw recalls, calling her “amazing, a powerhouse, a go-getter.” But like many who knew her, he didn’t fully see the pain she carried.
“Each musician brought something essential,” Shaw remarks. “The way Lawrence comes in after my solo [on ‘Meghan’], then Joe after him … it’s all connected. The album is what it is because of that shared contribution.”
The canvas is still wide open, and Jaleel Shaw is nowhere near done painting. “I just want to be a person who keeps that history alive, you know?” he concludes. “To let people know about these amazing human beings, this amazing history and culture.” JT