The mystery singer

Another note on the mini-Mangueira show. It was actually a rather exhausting evening - it was a rough, pushy crowd (rare in Rio, but it had a bunch of young baile-funk types) and I wasn't feeling that well anyway. But I fought my way to the front row anyway, transfixed by a brilliant repinique player who was hiding out in the back (oh! he did SUCH COOL CALLS! and by the way, YES, the big triplets always END on the downbeat, I keep telling everyone, and so does Derek, but somehow it never sinks in, but they did it again last night and THE BIG TRIPLETS ALWAYS END ON THE DOWNBEAT).

And there was one other reason I stayed. See, there were three singers, trading off singing top Carnaval sambas from Beija-Flor, Mangueira, Imperio Serrano, many other escolas.

Two of the singers were really good. Great, even. Then the third singer, a short skinny black kid with bleached-blond cornrows, took the microphone and... oh MY. He was incredible. He had the most extraordinary velvety perfect effortless voice, a smooth strong bass (especially surprising coming from the smallest of the 3 guys!)

I kept thinking, why isn't he a world-renowned professional opera singer? He was that kind of world-class, that kind of magnificent. (and is there any other city in the world where every kid in the city is vetted for opera-level singing ability? The kind of singers they keep turning up here every year, for Carnaval... There are a hundred groups here who each need 3 Pavarottis each year, and somehow they keep finding them. It's like the old Soviet ballet, or the Chinese gymnastics team - screening practically the entire population for hidden talent).



I never heard what his name was. Who was that mystery singer? Anyone know his name? Whoever he was, watch for him, and take any chance you get to hear him sing.

Brass is back!

My first guess for Musical Trend of the Season: Brass sections with baterias.

A bit o' history; Carnaval music in the 20s used to be brass bands playing a relentless peppy, slightly dorky, polka-like music that was derived from European military marches and polka. The Brazilians called it marcha, or marchinha (little march).

Then samba swept in, in the 30s, brought from Bahia, and gradually took over Carnaval. The street blocos often still played marchas, and still had brass sections (many still have brass to this day), but through some process that I haven't researched yet, Carnaval music was codified as the samba, and so the marcha disappeared from the "official" Carnaval parades.

Today, LIESA regulations pointedly prohibit samba escolas from adding brass sections to their baterias. (Other types of instruments are not prohibited - just wind instruments. There's some scuffling over whistles because of this.)

But marchas keep reappearing and last year there seemed to be a real effort to revive the marcha tradition. An old-style marcha band started playing in Lapa every week. There was a big marcha festival, too, which many blocos were invited to play for; and even a competition for best new original marcha.

So, anyway, now I see that Banga's added a brass section.

So THEN, tonight, I went to a show w/Pat and GUESS WHO'S ADDED BRASS? MANGUEIRA!! Of all groups! Okay, okay, it's not the "real" bateria, of course - that escola is notoriously traditional and besides LIESA wouldn't let them do that. This was just a small version, a bunch of Mangueira players who do club shows under another name. Kind of a stage bloco. Kind of like Banga, in fact. But still! Mangueira players with brass! Very interesting. (maybe they've always done this and this is just the first I've seen it? who knows.)

Gotta also point out here that Banga also has a bunch of Imperio Serrano players in their bateria - half of those 11 guys were Imperios, and I noticed that Imperio's cavaquinho player is now writing songs for Banga. These are "real" escola players, guys who grew up in the escolas, and last night they clearly ADORED getting to play funk, frevo, xote and all the other fun stuff. I think the top escolas are probably busting at the seams with highly skilled guys who are ready to cut loose and do something really creative and new. There's a limit to what they can do in the escolas because of the tight LIESA regulations. So the blocos are where things are changing.

So, verdict: It's a GREAT sound with brass (both groups used it in a supportive role but not a front role - adding fills, flourishes here & there, then shutting up). I can't think why LIESA prevents brass.

The Bangalafumenga Annual Welcome-Kathleen Party

Just like last year, Bangalafumenga happened to be having a big show in Lapa on the very night I arrived! Coincidence? Clearly not. From now on I'm going to be expecting my own personal welcome-back Bangalafumenga show every time I arrive in Rio.

This was just the "small" Banga band, not the Carnaval bateria. 11 percussionists backing up one singer, one cavaquinho, one electric guitar and.... three brass players! They've added brass. They do a huge variety of Brazilian rhythms, samba being only one. The repertoire's a mix of some favorite samba-enredos, favorite sing-alongs of modern Brazilian MPB and funk and afoxe, and a lot of GOOD originals now too. All of it is structured so that a bateria can be added at any point.

PACKED crowd. Nobody can party like the Brazilians - everybody just starts jumping around like a bunch of bouncing rubber balls. Periodically an eerie reverb would sometimes randomly start up in the massively over-amped sound system. It's a sound effect you only here in Brazil, because it's not reverb at all, it's the entire crowd, that has just started singing along with EVERY word.

All my Banga friends gave me such a warm welcome, such big bear hugs. Even people who don't even really know me. I kept yelling excitedly into everybody's ears, "I just arrived in Rio TODAY! I just got here TODAY! I flew in from the United States TODAY!" Trying to convey to them in one brief shout-over-the-music how hard it was to get back here for this short visit and what it means to me.

I ended up backstage afterwards - swept past the heavy security in Olivia's comet trail - and there was some kind of huge champagne toast going on - happy new year? Carnaval kick-off? Here's to Banga? I'm not really sure, but, whatever, there was champagne spraying everywhere like they'd won the World Cup. I got soaked with champagne and then somehow ended up with my very own bottle. Andre, my snare teacher, also had his very own bottle, so we just started swigging it side by side.



And of course got a really warm, huge, welcome-back from Dudu, who also gave me his usual enthusiastic-but-vague command "We MUST get together! Sometime!" Here's a pic of me and Olivia and Dudu:


Big bear hug from Thiago, who greeted me with his usual happily shouted English (I don't know where he learned his English, but he's STILL the only person here who can pronounce my name.) Ran into Rodrigo next. I always think that Rodrigo will have completely forgotten who I am, especially since he is becoming such a big name now, but he grabbed me and said "We're starting rehearsals in a couple days for our first Carnaval parade on the 12th! Can you play with us??"

A parade on the 12th! That's my very last day here! I can do it! I'd forgotten that Carnaval is so early this year, and that blocos start parades 2 weeks before the official Carnaval weekend, so that January 12th is actually going to the first official bloco Carnaval parade day. Oh my god, I'm actually going to get to parade with Banga again!

Danced till four am. So wired afterwards I couldn't sleep till dawn. I kept telling Olivia, "I'm so happy to be back. I'm so happy to be back."

Home

36 hours travel time and finally...

Flooded with happiness to arrive in Rio again. I didn't think it would affect me this strongly. Actually I'd wondered if Rio might have lost its luster, if I would arrive here and think "oh, this again; ho hum; I'm done with this now".

But I stepped off the plane into the heat, saw the familiar 1.5-hour line at passport control under the familiar "Policia Federal" logo on the wall, heard the chatter of the Portuguese, and was unexpectedly FLOODED with happiness. Who is ever happy to see the Policia Federal? I was. It meant I was back in Brazil.

Next to the Policia Federal logo, on the same wall, was a big ad for a Brazilian brand of milk (Elege), with an illustration of one of those odd milk cartons that they use here - so hard to open, so impossible to pour, so obviously an inferior design! - and I was, again, FLOODED with happiness. Those terrible little milk cartons! I am back in Brazil!

I didn't think it would feel this intense. Rio so familiar and comfortable. It's not nostalgia. It's not distant memories. It's home. I've been away from home a long time, and now I'm back.

On the bus from the airport, every street we passed was so vividly familiar that I could swear I was just here last week. The bus drove past the Praca Maua and I was automatically looking for Jorge and Curtis, to hop on the bus to Beija-Flor with them. We drove past the Belmonte bar and I was automatically looking for Jason do Festa and Eric Sete Cordas, ready to jump out of the bus and join them for a choppe and a shrimp pastel. I waved to Marcos Suzano when we drove past his apartment, then to Chris when we drove past hers. Waved to friends and all my neighborhoods and my little juice bars and my newstands and my streets, all the places I've lived here.

The bus swung into Copacabana. Past another street where I used to live. Down the path of the great Monobloco parade where I got such a bad sunburn on my left hand. I look at my hand. My left wrist is STILL darker than my right. It just happened yesterday, I swear.

I hopped off the bus at Posto 8 in Ipanema. Sun and sea. Ten million bright umbrellas on the beach. Trash on the streets. Coconut rinds lying all over. All the passersby chattering in Portuguese. Home.

I feel so relaxed this time. Because the pressure is off. This is my fifth visit. I don't have to dash around and see everything and fill every second with lessons and escola visits. Because this is my home and I will be back here year after year. There is no hurry.

I check into my lovely little hostel (Rio Hostel's got a new branch, in the Arpoador - it's very nice), then go out for a little breakfast - ah! real fruit juice again! real coffee! minas cheese! - then go lie on the beach in the hot, hot sun and jump in the cold, cold sea.

Packing for Rio

I head to Rio tomorrow. AT LAST. I'll arrive Saturday morning! I feel like am shaking off my university professor cloak like a thick winter fur that I can cast off. Like a fox in springtime. Stepping into my second skin. Just for a couple weeks, anyway, then I'll have to put the winter coat back on, but I won't think about that till I after too.

I just heard that Bangalafumenga is having a big show in Lapa on Saturday night! The night I arrive! They had a big show in Lapa the very night I arrived last year too. (Now I'll expect my own personal Bangalafumenga show every year now, whenever I arrive in Rio.) I can't WAIT to see everybody....

I am so happy to know that on Saturday I will be on Ipanema beach, and then dancing with Banga all night at the Fundicao.

Let's see, have I packed everything?
1. Flipflops in my airport carry-on bag so I can change into them instantly
2. Smallest, lightest shoes possible, for the airplane - since I'll never wear them again after the airplane.
3. Moleskin & bandaids for the blisters I will get from the new sandals I'll be buying
4. One pair cheap sunglasses
5. Two short skirts, three halter tops and a bra. That's basically it for clothes. I found out last year that you needn't bring any more clothes to Rio in January than will fit in a pandeiro case.
6. Two bikinis, a beach wrap, and three bottles of sunblock
7. The 500 reais that I saved last time I left Brazil (no point converting to dollars!), plus a wad of cash & bankcards. A BIG wad. Rio's now as expensive as Manhattan. (Well, cabs are cheaper in NY, actually)
8. Big empty suitcase for the pandeiros & cavaquinhos & mallets & cds & Tom Jobim guitar books I'm planning to buy
9. Edirol sound recorder ready to use, loaded w/fresh batteries
10. Tiny notebook that fits in a pocket, with, already written into it:
- The updated Sambodromo schedule (check the Liesa website... yup, there are changes)
- Days of technical rehearsals for all escolas, & the streets their quadras are on
- Address of my hostel. I'm trying a new one, Rio Hostel's new branch in the Arpoador.
- All my friends' phone #'s & emails.
12. And a couple drumsticks since I want to keep working on stick technique improvements from my lesson with Mark Lamson. I'm hoping to have actually improved by the time he gets back to Portland in a month!

And:
No socks except the pair I'm wearing on the airplane
No pants except what I'm wearing on the airplane
No umbrella. Can buy one on the street for 5 reais.
No raincoat. You'd just die of heat stroke if you wore one.
No sandals. I'll buy a pair in Ipanema when I get in.
No 2nd piece of luggage. Reserved for possible large drum or fantasia headdress on return.
No jewelry. Even if I don't get robbed, I always end up jumping into the ocean sooner or later, and that's no good for jewelry.

It's dark and snowy and cold here in Oregon. Can't wait....