by Nate Chinen

“For a Big Birthday, Leading Three Groups A Night” Leo Smith 70th Birthday Celebration

Wadada Leo Smith was a force in motion during the early stretch of his concert at Roulette in Brooklyn on Friday night. Stalking the stage, busily directing the output of his Golden Sextet, he gave off an air of restless intent. The exceptions mostly came when he played his trumpet, projecting in a hard, lustrous tone. In those moments he rooted himself: shoulders squared, the bell of his horn pointing either straight ahead or toward the floor. At every juncture he seemed to mean business.

In any case, he wasn’t coasting in advance of his 70th birthday, which the concert — part of a two-day affair organized by Interpretations, the new-music series — was meant to celebrate. Mr. Smith led three groups each night, mixing older pieces with a handful of premieres. On Friday the Golden Sextet pulled an opening shift, followed by his Silver Orchestra and Organic, his funk-centric electric band.

Mr. Smith has long been an active synthesizer of sound and texture. As an early member of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, he embraced that organization’s dual commitment to composition and improvisation, along with its openness to non-Western forms. One of the groups he led on Thursday was Mbira, an introspectively earthy trio with pipa and drums, which is featured on “Dark Lady of the Sonnets” (Tum), his most recent album.

On Friday the world-music intimations were more a matter of subtext. The concert opened with “Tabligh,” a piece inspired by Sufi music. From the outset it was a study in agitation, with two drummers, Pheeroan akLaff and Susie Ibarra, stirring the pulse in tandem. The first melodic improvising came from Bobby Naughton, a vibraphonist who worked often with Mr. Smith during the 1970s; here he played with four mallets, phrasing succinctly and playing it straight while the groove swarmed and surged.

Mr. Smith stepped in next, playing a few sharp bursts before catching the attention of his pianist, David Virelles, with some emphatic hand gestures. This didn’t get him what he wanted, so he walked over to Mr. Virelles, saying something in his ear. An adjustment was made: The accompaniment shifted from light, shimmering glissandi to something pricklier and more percussive. Mr. Smith still looked unsatisfied.

Much of this set proceeded similarly, never quite achieving a flow. But there were bracing moments, as when both drummers kicked into gear on “South Central L.A. Kulture,” delivering the equivalent of a body blow.

Surprisingly, given the complexity of its task, the Silver Orchestra came across as more focused. Jennifer Choi did soulful, compelling work on a dissonance-haunted violin concerto, “Africana 2.” A handful of improvisers, like the alto saxophonist Marty Ehrlich and the cornetist Taylor Ho Bynum, made brief but strong impressions elsewhere.

The orchestra’s centerpiece premiere, “Occupy the World for Life, Liberty and Justice,” began in tense disquiet and peaked in full-scale cacophony, with three drummers in play. Then came a lush, unsettled chord, played by the saxophone section with circular-breathing techniques, and an abrupt cut signaled by Mr. Smith.

After all this, the murky, evil-sounding groove of Organic — a band with three electric guitarists, along with electric and acoustic bass, cello, piano and drums — felt almost like a comfort. Mr. Smith seemed to think so himself. During “Leroy Jenkins’s Air Steps,” from “Heart’s Reflections” (Cuneiform), released this year, he faced the band and let his body sway in tempo. If he looked relaxed, lost in the vibe, it was only for a moment: Another changeup was just ahead.