Esperanza Spalding has never been one to sit idle. Her wandering spirit has brought the 36-year-old musician great success over the past ten years and has steered her work in new directions. In 2017, Spalding, a bassist, singer, and producer, spent 77 straight hours in the studio writing and arranging songs. The resulting album “Exposure” was pressed directly onto CD and vinyl for a limited release of only 7,777 copies. Her next project, “12 Little Spells”, examined the healing powers of music; Each song correlated with a different part of the body.

With this in mind, Spalding’s new release, a suite of three songs entitled “Triangle”, which is due to be released on Saturday, is intended to strengthen the audience physically and emotionally. But this time she has pandemic tensions in her sights.

“I remembered how the music had supported me,” she said on a recent call from her hometown of Portland, Ore. “And asked me if we could look into these issues in more depth.”

Spalding, a casual conversationalist who effortlessly accesses a wide range of scientific colloquial language, lights up when he unpacks the medical powers of music. But with her youthful curiosity and deliberate cadence, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking to a constipated professor. Over the past year, she spent some time building a Portland retreat where like-minded artists could think and create without disruption to the real world. Occasionally, she jammed with other musicians, including R&B star Raphael Saadiq and jazz guitarist Jeff Parker.

The worries about health and restoration in “Triangle” have been seeping away in Spalding for some time. After the release of “12 Little Spells” in 2018, she took a semester off to teach music at Harvard and moved to Los Angeles to write an opera with the sick jazz saxophonist Wayne Shorter.

“I was concerned that Wayne’s health wasn’t going to last and that we couldn’t finish his opera while he could see it,” said Spalding.

But over six months “he came back to life,” she said. “It was like that withered plant that finally got the water and completely transformed before our eyes.”

When the pandemic set in just a month later, she returned to Portland to begin the retreat, where she and 10 other color artists spent a month on 5,000 acres. It’s an idea Spalding had pondered for years.

“People are using this strange, uninvited breath of the pandemic to start the things they’ve been putting off,” she said. “That definitely happened to me.”

The real spark for “Triangle” came at the end of the retreat, where she was sitting alone in a garden after an event, wondering how she could alleviate the stress of isolation. “We have all seen ourselves locked in a situation that we did not design or inquire about,” she said. “It feels like we can’t break out.”

She began creating sketches for songs whose sounds were rooted in Sufism and South Indian Carnatic and Black American music and sent them to potential collaborators.

The compositions – which were written in consultation with music therapists and neuroscientists – are intended to evoke different emotions. The hypnotic “Formwela 1” worn by Spaldings Falsett is supposed to help calm yourself down in stressful times. “So you learn the song and then you can play it in your head yourself if you are stuck in a house and there is no way the dynamic will change at that moment,” said Spalding. The ethereal “Formwela 2” and the soulful “Formwela 3” are intended to calm the interpersonal aggression and re-center the listener as soon as the anger has dissipated.

Three months after the retreat ended, Spalding went to Los Angeles to finish the music with drummer Justin Tyson, a regular contributor to her. keyboardist Phoelix, a go-to producer for Chicago rappers Noname, Smino and Saba; and Saadiq, who worked with D’Angelo, Solange, and Alicia Keys.

“To be honest, she didn’t need anything,” said Saadiq, who produced “Triangle” with Spalding and Phoelix. “She moves so much in how she plays and how she thinks. I compared myself to Phil Jackson – why was he there when Michael Jordan was on the pitch? “

“Triangle” was recorded in his studio. When he heard the final version, he remembered that the sound was so transformative that he could mentally reset himself. The music, Saadiq said, “took everything out of my head. I was 100 percent clear. “

When “Triangle” is played all at once, it digs into your head and stays there. Its meditative mixture of chants, rain noises and vocal repetitions is intended to calm the prevailing fear. “It happens,” said Shorter, who plays on the third track. “It’s out there, but it’s interesting what she’s doing. She takes all possible risks and doesn’t give up. When you see a fork in the road, which path should you take? Take both. She did that and will need good company. “

“Triangle” will be released through Spalding’s Songwright’s Apothecary Lab, where she, other musicians and practitioners in music therapy and medicine will explore how songwriters mix therapeutic sounds into their work. This summer, she’ll be hosting personal pop-up labs across New York City where residents can schedule appointments and have compositions created to suit their mood.

“Basically we want to hear what people want from the music, like, what do you need?” She said. “It’s an invitation to hear what you need a song for, and that tells you what we’re looking for in our research, in our investigation.”

The songs created in the lab will be available on the website. Some of them will be featured when Spalding releases a full album this fall.

It seems like she’s not – at least for now – not interested in the conventional rigors of recording albums, putting them out and going on tour. These days Spalding would rather improvise and see what happens. Still, she understands that her new initiatives may take some getting used to.

“It’s a lot,” she said. “I know that part of my job is to present the form of this project and the offer and make it readable, since it is not an album and not a concert. It’s not that and it’s not that. “

“I want the collaborative truth to be readable,” she added. “That’s part of what is most important to me about sharing music.”