You're in the army now

I'm finally getting a few hours to go through some of my backlogged movies from Beija-Flor, Portela & Mocidade. Just posted:

- Mocidade's lead repiques take the bateria through some paradinhas and then into a very unusual samba entrance. I was primarily filming Bruno, the 16-year-old who was the first person to invite me on to surdo at Mocidade. He is always amused (and pleased, I think) when I film the bateria, and you can see him give me a big grin at the end.

- A little clip of one of Beija-Flor's two frigideira (frying pan) players. These little frying pans are astonishingly loud, with such a bright bell tone that you can hear them above the whole bateria. And they really keep the swing motoring along.

More to come.


The Caixa Army
This is an all-bloco week for me. No escolas. I decided the blocos needed all my attention this week if I want to really deserve the spot they are offering to me, because the leaders are working SO hard giving us extra classes and rehearsals, and trying to iron out all the problems. So I spent most of the weekend listening to Banga and Monobloco recordings, and wrote down all Banga's third-surdo patterns on a little yellow card, and all Monobloco's caixa patterns on a little pink card.

Surdo I am very secure on. But caixa is still a new drum for me, and Monobloco is really my first time BEING a caixa player, really committed to it, slated to perform on it in some high-profile shows. And it's been kicking my ass! They've suddenly gotten very picky and dead serious. They're running two rehearsals a week now, plus sectionals before each one. Their scariest, scowling-est leader has taking to stalking along the caixa line, glowering at every player's drum and trying to find something to criticize. Even if you play well, he still scowls! (but at least he doesn't yell at you then)

It's intense; I feel like I'm in the army. (Banga, meanwhile, is just as intense, and plays just as well, but somehow manages to do it all with a more gentle, friendly touch. More about the Banga approach in another post.)

Freddy, the caixa leader, has been giving a free extra hour of caixa class before every rehearsal, which has been unbelievably helpful - he's a very good teacher. He makes regular use of the Circle Of Terror: going around a circle of players and having every one of them play solo for a few measures, one at a time. I love teachers who use the Circle of Terror, because it really puts the fear of god into you and makes you shape up fast. But I hate it too! All Freddy has to do is start the Circle Of Terror, and as soon as I realize what's happening and that my turn's coming up soon, with the Terror Solo Spot moving relentlessly around the circle in my direction, like a guillotine rolling closer and closer.... my pulse jumps about 50%. Huge adrenalin rush, worse than any stage fright before an actual show. I start thinking of excuses - I just injured my wrist! I need to change the batteries in my recorder! Oops, my strap broke, I need to go find another strap! My drum needs tuning!

Once the Terror Solo Spot arrives, I'm mostly just trying to get through it alive without having a heart attack right on the spot and passing out on the floor.

Well, I've survived two Circles Of Terror so far (I did not play well for either, but I didn't die either). I am doing pretty well, got the repertoire solid at last, and am holding in there, kind of in the mid-range of the caixas. Far from the best, but not the worst either. I put myself in the front row today where I was not near any other caixas, banked on all sides by tamborims, bells, and repiques, to test myself and see if I really, truly knew the whole repertoire without having anyone else to look at, and whether I was playing cleanly enough to be a support to the other sections around me, rather than a distraction. And I did! Found some spots I need to work on, but on the whole, it's pretty solid.

In the grand scheme of things, I've been really pleased with how far my caixa playing has come in the last three months. And to come this far in two years is something I'm proud of. But when I see the real masters play, I ache to be better still. I want to be cleaner, crisper, stronger! ("Gentlemen, we can rebuild her! We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bionic caixa player. Better than she was before. Better, stronger, faster!") Yes, I want to be bionic - the buzzes buzzier, the accents sharper, the soft sections softer, the fast parts clean at any speed. The funks as crisp and steady as an atomic clock; the samba-charme with a perfect lilt; the samba with the real swing, not too shuffle-y, not too square, just right.

So today I had a great 1.5-hour snare drum technique lesson with Andre Moreno (of Bangalafumenga), to give me a better grounding in the basics. He zeroed in on some technique fixes (jeez, I had no idea that I'd completely stopped using the fingers on my right hand.... or that my double-lefts are so erratic at slow tempos) and gave me piles of good exercises for power, speed and control. Then the 1-hr class with Freddy - mostly repertoire & transitions among rhythms, today; then the 2+ hour rehearsal with Monobloco, during which we learned, um, I think it was 6 new breaks and 4 songs. Five hours on caixa today! I'm exhausted now....

I carry my sticks & metronome everywhere and constantly drum on my knees. I started doing some little mental games to keep me focused on always playing clean, not like it's "just practice", but like it really matters. Sometimes I pretend there is a microphone pointed right at me, playing live to a radio show to thousands of listeners. When I'm playing in a large group, like Banga or Monobloco, I pretend that I am the only player in my section who is mic'd, the only one the crowd can hear; or that I'm being recorded in the very last take of a long, long day of studio work, when everybody is exhausted and has run out of money for studio time, and this take HAS to be perfect!

And sometimes I pretend I'm playing a soundtrack for a movie. Even the simplest slow little paradiddle or buzz exercise can take on drama if you imagine it as the soundtrack for, say, George Clooney tiptoeing into the casino vault in "Ocean's 11" (crime capers are great for those slow 40bpm metronome drills - just imagine your hero inching along a ledge of a high building toward the maximum-security vault, the only sound your caixa going "tick.....tock.....tick....tock...."). Or Uma Thurman, gracefully sword-fighting in the snow, in "Kill Bill" - great for rolls and double-stroke practice. The entire 8-episode ocean-life documentary "Blue Planet" goes wonderfully with samba drills.

I can tell that every caixa player is putting in lots of extra hours of practice at home. Whether it's out of panic or or just a sense of duty, or just the effect of Freddy's teaching, I don't know, but with every passing rehearsal we are cleaner and tighter. Tonight I rarely heard a single flam from the 20 caixas. We have several entrances where it is silent for 1, 2, 3, and then on 4 the caixas go KAK! That KAK was as clean and sharp as a knife, every time. A single voice.

Last year, a friend of mine told me "The thing that I don't understand about Monobloco is that, when I really watch the bateria, I don't hear any flams at all [people hitting at ever-so-slightly different times]. Usually not even one. You can lean on the rail and watch the tamborim section for ten minutes and not hear a single flam. How do they do that?" Now I know.