Brazil : 5 Rio (part II)

Rio. Second of three parts. (Click [] for pictures.)

With the constant fear of my cameras being robbed, I was not in a photographic state of mind after a couple days in Rio, and my mission to photograph this beautiful city of many photo opportunities, ironically, went quite badly. After I survived the first pickpocket attempt I got more cautious with my belongings, which meant I couldn’t really keep my camera hanging on my shoulder at all. I would try to take my camera out of my backpack when I see a photo op, but it is usually long gone even before I have finished unzipping my backpack. Or, I would only be able to take out my camera in well-protected tourist areas with police standing around, so I could take a touristy picture, which is not so exciting for any serious photographer who is always looking for the unique angle.

So while the photographer in me was getting stressed by the situation in Rio, the music-lover in me was getting excited by the impending carnival. Contrary to São Paulo, Rio lets you know that the carnival is indeed coming. As soon as I stepped off the plane at Antonio Carlos Jobim airport, I could hear samba music of this year’s parade, or samba enredos as they are called, coming out of loudspeakers in a duty free shop. Later, whenever I went out of my hotel on Catete Street, there was always music coming from street vendors’ or shops’ loudspeakers. Usually samba, but not always: sometimes traditional carnival music (cheerful melodies played by brass bands), sometimes choro (elegant and somewhat classical-sounding music played usually with, but not limited to, guitar, flute, cavaquinho and pandeiro). During this period, anywhere in the busy streets of Rio it is impossible to escape from music, which is fine with me.

Besides samba, choro and traditional carnival music - all native sons of the rich Rio musical hertiage - what had attracted me to Brazilian music in the first place was bossa nova, the style invented by João Gilberto, whose singing and guitar-playing makes him the coolest cat on this side of the hemisphere. João Gilberto - from the state of Bahia in the Brazilian northeast - had come to Rio in his youth, armed with an unique voice and a new way of playing the guitar. There he met Antonio Carlos Jobim - one of the greatest composers of popular music - and the rest, as they say, is history. Gilberto’s new style was basically samba in rhythm, but his sound was made intimate without the use of the usual samba percussion instruments since the guitar would be played like the percussions it replaced, while still providing harmony simulatneously. With Gilberto singing Jobim’s compositions in this pared down version of samba, bossa nova took off in the late 50s, first sweeping Rio off its feet and then bringing the rest of the country to its knees. By 1963 Gilberto, Jobim and a few others were invited to go to Carnegie Hall in NY to perform and during their trip there they teamed up with jazz saxophonist Stan Getz to make the groundbreaking jazz bossa album “Getz/Giberto.” The version of “The Girl From Ipanema” in that album then took the US by storm and eventually winning a Grammy (and unfortunately sprang forth a million dreadful versions of the song, most of which gets played in elevators or hotel lobbies today.)

We arrived at Rio with four days behind the carnival, and I was also hoping to catch some bossa nova live. I had assumed it would be easy to do by going to the city’s live clubs or bars but I ended up in disappointment. With the exception of samba cats, professional musicians here - just like everyone else in Brazil - wind down their activities just before the carnival. Almost all music events listed in the calender section of Jornal do Brazil were carnival-related and the bossa nova shows were nowhere to be found. I made a mental note to myself: go to Rio earlier next time.

With no bossa nova shows, what is a music lover to do in Rio right before the carnival? I found my answer in the form of ensaios, or samba school practices. Anyone can join these affairs held by samba schools to keep their dancers and bateria (percussion bands) in shape before the carnival parade. Admission is cheap too: around R$10 for a fun-filled samba night.

But there was a catch. My favorite samba school - Mangueira - holds its ensaios at its Niteroi quadra (i.e. HQ) in the supposedly seedy northern fringes of Zona Sul. Despite the risk, I pleaded with my wife for a once-in-a-lifetime trip to attend the ensaio at Mangueira’s quadra but she was unrelenting. “Too dangerous”, she says, despite the fact that she had never gone there herself. An employee working at the front desk of our hotel cautioned us not to go there without proper (yet expensive) tour guides, further cementing my wife’s position on the matter. (The tour guides were charging about $100 a head to take us over there, meanwhile if we had gone ourselves it would cost about $15 total. What scums!)

Mangueira was one of first samba schools that began in the 1930s, and a first-time trip to its venerable quadra for a Mangueira fan was comparable in anticipation to, say, a Muslim’s first visit to Mecca. Ok, I am overstating a bit but the point is: I was very disappointed when I couldn’t go over to Mangueira’s quadra despite having travelled half a world to Rio. (Note to my wife: please read the previous sentence a hundred times over again.)

But all was not lost. A stroke of luck befell me when I checked the event section of the local newspaper a few days after we arrived at Rio. Mangueira would hold a mini-ensaio in a club-like venue in Cinelandia in downtown Rio, which is just less than 10 minutes by train from Catete, where we were staying. It wouldn’t be the same as the quadra ensaio, but at this rate I would take any Mangueira ensaio I am permitted to attend by law (i.e. my wife). And she contended that Cinelandia was safe enough (even though she wouldn’t let me bring my video camera there.)

So off we went. After getting to the ensaio I saw a lot of well-dressed Brazilians and talking with some of them I found out they were not from Rio, but out of state. It turns out they were Mangueira fans thinking of the same thing: instead of venturing out to Niteroi quadra they prefer to come to the Cinelandia ensaio, thinking it would be safer. And it goes both ways: to make more money, Mangueira would hold not just one but two mini-ensaios at Cinelandia for the fans too timid to make it out to its Niteroi HQ. The funny thing was, some of the guests were holding their expensive video cameras filming the show. Heck, I could have brought my video camera along too!

The lights dimmed and the bateria (roughly 8-man-plus-3-kids strong) came out with the puxador and belted out a couple nice classic Mangueira enredos. There was a big dance floor but no one was dancing; all guests were seated at the tables. (Remember, most guests were middle-aged white Brasilians with big bellies who probably don’t samba that much.) With no video camera, I thought I would just dance a lot and enjoy the night, but I wasn’t going to dance on the floor alone!

Fortunately the Mangueira passistas - yes those lovely female dancers clad in their feathery costumes - came out after that and they were pulling male guests to go on the floor to dance with them. I would have volunteered to jump out on stage for the chance, but out of respect to my beautiful wife who was sitting just next to me I feigned reluctance. However, being a bespectacled Asian among a sea of (out-of-state) Brazilians I stuck out like a sore thumb and in no time did one of those pretty dancers come and attempt to pull me out on the floor. But the Mangueira dancer showed understanding: she noticed my wife and motioned to her for permission to invite me onto the dance floor.

So - here I am - finally lying down my first samba steps in Rio with a Mangueira passista.

(To be continued.)