If you have the courage

Another really busy week. I'm scrambling to assimilate the timbal stuff from Salvador, the full Monobloco repertoire on both caixa and tamborim, and Banga's several new pieces. oh man... I've played in so many groups in the last year and a half and every single one of them has about 50 new hand signs. (The biggest mental conflict for me is that crossed-arms signal used in Seattle to mean "stop" here means "caixas keep playing")

Had my first lesson with Mestre Jonas on Tuesday. It was really fabulous. I didn't realize that the lesson came with 2 excellent accompanists (Nana on surdo, and Sigga on caixa or repique) and that it would apparently go as long as I wanted it to - an hour and a half into it Jonas was still saying "What do you want to see next?" - plus it also included FIVE hours afterwards of drinking beer with all of them at the little bar nearby, during which Jonas insisting on buying all our beers, spending nearly half of the lesson money I'd just given him, and pretty much gave me a 5-hour Portuguese lesson for free too.

I was impressed with Jonas' teaching style. It's always interesting seeing how teachers do, or don't, adjust to your level, when they don't know you yet. Jonas knew nothing about me, so he started with Mocidade's most basic third-surdo (terceira; little bass drum) pattern, very slow; when he saw that I matched his timing perfectly on that, he added in the simplest variation; then the next, then the next, jumping levels rapidly when he saw that I knew some stuff already; until at about 15 minutes into it, he said suddenly "You're already a terceirista. So let's work more on combinations of variations and real-world situations and the musicality of improvisations." In the real world, third-surdo is an intense position - there's only a few of them (usually 4 or 6), it's extremely important for keeping the groove and tempo rolling for everybody else, and it's a showman position of strength and fire.

Jonas spotted some subtle things I hadn't noticed - "Most of your patterns are short, 4 or 8 counts long. Try longer ones, 12 and 16 or even longer" and "Answer your fellow third-surdo players. Give them room to do their solo, and let them finish it, and then do something else that builds off of what they did. But don't step on their solo." and "Move your whole body more when you play." and "Get a more musical tone out of the drum." He worked us through a whole variety of repique calls and entrances and exits, taught me a call-out and had me do all the call-outs from third; and showed me some beautiful combinations and motifs I'd never tried before, for solos.

Mocidade's thirds do not do long arranged patterns like in several other escolas. In Mocidade, the thirds all improvise almost constantly, and players seem encouraged to develop their own solo style. (From an audience perspective, I actually prefer the long arranged patterns - they are much louder and the crowd can hear them, and they support the song better. But from a player perspective, I ADORE improv. The audience can't really hear it, but it fires up all the players around you and keeps the band excited.)

So he had me practice that kind of solo'ing, trading off solos with him, as if we were both competitive thirds in the same bateria. (Once we coincidentally did the exact same random improv not once but THREE times in a row.) Finally he switched to discussing the third's importance in conveying tempo to the firsts and seconds. He put me in an imaginary, invisible bateria. He backed 20 feet away to my side until he was exactly as far away as I would be from a primeira surdo player in a real bateria, he put Sigga just where the repique player would be, and we played in an imaginary Mocidade for a while. He was challenging me to keep the swing and tempo perfect through all my variations so that Sigga and I stayed locked and Jonas was able to stay steady and comfortable on primeiro. I did pretty well till I bumbled some of the brand-new motifs I'd just learned, not too badly, but I could feel how those little inconsistencies made the boat rock, how Sigga and Jonas had to adjust.

He said later, "Thirds lead the caixas; and the thirds and caixas, together, lead the firsts and seconds [the big bass drums]; and they lead everybody else."

It was raining by now; the drums were getting wet; but I didn't want to stop. A man from Mangueira walked by and was delighted to find a tiny bateria in his neighborhood park on his way home. He immediately started trying to arrange us into Mangueira style! Then he realized who Jonas was and almost bashfully apologized ("I like Mocidade too, very much!").

At the end Jonas said I could come play in Mocidade if I like! Late at night, you know, after 2am when the best players rotate off and new people are allowed to play. He said, play repique or third surdo!

Later he said "Se voce tiver a coragem...." - "If you have the courage.... you could become part of the family, and parade with us. " Play before 2am, he meant. In the real bateria.

He was talking about third surdo. I was astonished. Women are not normally allowed on surdo at the top-league escolas. Not to practice, and never to parade. Maybe times are changing. (I know of 1 third surdo female in the Rocinha escola, in the second-tier league; I don't know of any currently in the top league, though I haven't been to all the escolas.) He warned me, "You cannot show any fear. Because they will all challenge you. Because you are not from the community, and you are a woman." He got talking very rapidly at this point, trying to convey something intensely important about the politics and perils of third surdo, but I was losing hold of the language and all I could grasp is that it is incredibly important that I either do, or don't, do something when the other players are, or are not, doing solos, and are, or are not, getting excited or angry with me....or... something... I should either stand my ground and keep solo'ing, or was he saying I should back off and not step on their toes when they are soloing? hmm.... shucks... I wonder what he said.... dang.... rats.... whatever it was, it was important! But the main point came through: You have to have courage. You cannot show any fear.

Through all this talking, I kept thinking I was only drinking 1 little glass of beer, but Jonas kept refilling that little glass. Later I realized we'd worked our way through seven 600-ml big bottles of Skol. For most of that there were only 3 people at the table, so, let's see... eep... could I have really drunk 1.4 liters of beer?? It goes down so easy here. And every now and then you toss your whole glass in the street if the beer in it has gotten too warm. (Brazilians are horrified by warm beer. "Oh no! Your beer is HOT! Your beer is TERRIBLY HOT!" they'll say, grabbing the glass and flinging the contents into the gutter as if it is poisonous. Then refilling it for you with icy cold beer.) We had a "sai dela", one for the road, and then a second sai dela and a third and a fourth. By the last saidela and the last of my 1.4 liters of beer, I had LOADS of courage and was ready to tackle any escola in the world!

The next day I booked 4 hours of studio time in Banga's new Botafogo studio, to practice third-surdo till my arms fall off.

Se voce tiver a coragem....