BRAZIL’S WORLD-CLASS TROUBADOUR

Something very big, very deep and very wide happened in Brazil after the bossa nova. And his name is Milton Nascimento.

The great Brazilian singer/ composer will make his first Los Angeles appearance Friday at the Wiltern Theatre at 8 p.m. The stage for his present world tour has been gradually set for some time by Nascimento’s expanding political concerns and his growing friendships with American jazzmen.

A folk hero in his own country, he has long held a cult following in the United States, particularly after Wayne Shorter featured him on his 1978 album, “Native Dancer.” But two years ago, in his American debut, Nascimento effortlessly sold out two nights at Carnegie Hall. And in May his newest release, “Encontros e Despedidas” (Meetings and Farewells), has become the first all-Portuguese, Brazilian-made album ever to hit the Billboard jazz charts.

He’ll perform in Los Angeles with his Brazilian quartet (Ricardo Silveira, guitar, Nico Assumpcao, bass; Robertinho Silva, drums, and Luiz Avelar, keyboards), all top names in Brazil.

But American guest artists are popping up all over Nascimento’s tour. Tuesday in Berkeley he’ll be joined by Wayne Shorter, Chick Corea and Al DiMeola in what Shorter proclaims will be a “festival without hierarchy.”

Nascimento is a fusionist at heart. Born in Rio, he was raised by adoptive white parents in the small town of Tres Pontas in the state of Minas Gerais. There he absorbed the rich musical resources of that mining area: African laments, dance-hall ballads, country strumming, religious hymns. But somehow he’s also attuned to Beethoven, Stravinsky, the Beatles and John Coltrane.

With the help of childhood friends like Wagner Tiso, Beto Guedes and Toninho Horta, he carved out a new harmonic language full of luscious melodies and native rhythms that defy classical or jazz categorization.

“When I compose, I don’t worry about style,” Nascimento said recently one day in Rio, looking informally Brazilian in running shorts and tennis shoes.

“Minas is a very big universe, but it’s only a step toward opening up a universality inside my head and my music. I’ve studied very little formally, so much of what I do is intuitive. But I make good use of what’s within.”

Besides 19 albums (three produced in the United States), he has also composed two ballets, several film scores and a Mass in collaboration with progressive Catholics in Brazil. As an actor, he has left indelible impressions, including a particularly vivid one in Werner Herzog’s “Fitzcarraldo”

“Actually, there’s something that goes on all the time inside me, like a film, that is part of my mind and heart,” he said.

“And this film has its sound track, its background music. So I don’t need to control my inspiration unless I’m writing for something specific, like the theater. Everything I do, however, whether I’m playing the guitar, writing lyrics, or arranging, leads me back to my voice.”

That voice might well be considered a primal force of nature. What communicates beyond the language barrier is the uncommon generosity that breaks through his shy exterior the moment he begins to sing. Not an extravagant performer, he’s been known to stay seated for entire concerts, but his vibrant tenor--which can soar unexpectedly to a lyric falsetto--has magnetized crowds of more than 100,000 in Brazil.

Like the songs of other Brazilian musicians, many of Nascimento’s songs were censored during the former military regime of the last two decades.

Still, the heroic quality in his voice made him a natural spokesman for freedom. Songs like “Menestral de Alagoas” (Minstrel of Alagoas) and “Coracao de Estudante” (Student Heart) became rabble-rousers for the drive to restore democracy. The experience has honed in him a strong sense of the role of the artist in society.

“I don’t think art should suffer any kind of censorship,” Nascimento said. “Art is something that praises freedom, so how can you censor it? I find it difficult to believe that any artist is interested in promoting violence. On the contrary, they should want people to take a stand against these injustices, but I don’t think art suggests the means of fighting them. That depends on each person and the temperament of the country.”

Nascimento’s new album seems to tap the temperament of the world. The instrumental “Vidro e Corte” (Glass and Cut), which he performs with American guitarist Pat Metheny, would sound equally good north or south of the equator. The song “Lagrima do Sul” (Tear of the South) is dedicated to Winnie Mandela, wife of jailed South African anti-apartheid leader Nelson Mandela.

“For me to be with the people is to say what I feel and to participate, whether I am singing or not, in all the manifestations that are for the people’s rights.

“Art should be open; it’s to talk about love, to protest, to make feelings spring out, to teach and to learn. I cannot be stuck in Minas, or even in Brazil, as a theme. I have to mention everything that comes to me.

“Of course, racism isn’t only happening in South Africa. But right now that’s where it’s most vocal. So it’s an example for us that a certain kind of barbarism is taking place among all of us.

“The world is our home and we have to open up the doors. In this way I feel like I’m singing to the whole world.”