The party in Rio rocks
on! Last night went to a samba club in a warehouse district. Big, high ceiling
room with some ten to twelve musicians in the center seated around tables with
microphones. This was not the big bateria percussion ensembles with dancers
that I’ve known, but the folk roots of samba with song at the center and an
even mix of guitars/ flute/saxophone with pandeiros/surdo/ caixa/ reco-reco/
tamborim (all Brazilian percussion instruments). Mostly the same rhythms as the
dancing percussion ensembles, but with the added perk of fabulous songs.
And
how joyful they are! Even the minor ones are buoyed up by the infectious rhythms. It
never fails to strike me how the most joyful music— these samba songs,
Louis Armstrong and His Hot Five, Count Basie’s Orchestra and so on—come from people marginalized in society who suffered from racism, poverty, injustice
and more. “Alegria” was one of the songs and alegria bubbled up in every song. In
a variation of “you’ve got the watches, we’ve got the time,” we can add:
“You have the money, we
have the music.”
“ You have the power, we have the fun.”
" You have Club Med, we have the jazz club (or samba or fado or flamenco etc. club)"
But don’t get me wrong— it’s
no fun to be marginalized and impoverished. If the rich and powerful would be
so kind as to share some of their resources and inclusion in decision-making,
we’ll be more than happy to teach them how to laugh and play music. And though it’s bold for
me as a privileged white guy to say “we,” I identify with being on the edges of
the money-power game and close to the center of the music-fun one.
Meanwhile, after
converting myself over to “one thing” as the golden road to musical success
(see a few blogs back), these musicians showed me the high road of the Orff
ideal of “everyone plays everything.” Because they did! The sax guy played
flute, guitar and pandeiro and each one expertly, the surdo player flipped back
and forth between agogo and tamborim, the ukulele player picked up every
percussion instrument in the house at some point— and everyone sang. Everyone.
And some twenty songs moving seamlessly with changes in keys and tempos without
ever stopping the flow, all without a single sheet of notated music. I’m sure
they would have danced as well, but seated in chairs, the dancing was inside
them. And that circle formation! Orff class all the way!
Meanwhile, the folks in
the club got up danced as the spirit moved and the waiter was particularly
remarkable, effortlessly and graceful doing some rapid-fire fancy footwork
while every part of his upper body articulated another quality of the rhythm. Fred
Astaire would have worked hard to keep up.
In the past two nights,
I’ve had the pleasure to witness samba, maracatu, choro, jazz and a host of
Afro-Brazilian styles in all sorts of setting, all soaring over a high bar of
musical virtuosity and intensity with a wholly participatory and educated-in-the-styles
audience. Rio is knocking my socks off as one of the more musical cities on the
planet.
And yet still, all the
local teachers lament the poor state of music education in the schools, some
lingering Puritan resistance to songs from the African-diaspora and kids
growing up with random exposure to the vibrant music of their culture rather
than consciously cultivated and equalitarian exposure. Lots to celebrate, lots
of work yet to do.
But at least we get to do it with alegria!
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