Anthony Braxton retired from academia in 2013, but at 73, he is far from idle. That much is clear when I recently walked into his apartment in Connecticut, a couple of dozen miles away from Wesleyan University, where he taught for more than two decades.

After shaking my hand and taking my coat, this composer and saxophonist — a MacArthur “genius” grant winner, an N.E.A. Jazz Master and an eminence in improvisation and contemporary composition — showed me into a small but comfortable study, stacked with reams of large-format score pages.

This was “Trillium L,” the next opera in his long-gestating cycle of works for the stage. Each act of a “Trillium” opera tells a different story, while using the same cast of singers, who rotate roles. Playing with stock genres — including elements of gangster noir, futuristic dystopia and cutthroat boardroom intrigue — has given Mr. Braxton the chance to explore ideas regarding cultural progress (or lack thereof). But gonzo, satirical humor often leavens the fundamental seriousness, in both sound and word.