Next station: Contemporânea

That samba train has really taken off! Stopping at various more or less glamorous venues around São Paulo. And it looks like it’s an express train as I go to shows almost every day! No remorse. No sooner had the sounds of pandeiro stopped ringing in my head (not least because I got one to practise in my “free time”) than we* were clinking beer bottles at Traço de União. (http://tracodeuniao.com.br/) A more glamorous venue, if you want to know; more airy, with a proper stage for the artists and... a no-flip-flops policy. Much to my disappointment as I can’t seem to part with my havaianas.** Good job we knew in advance.

There were a few people performing that night, including Deyse do Banjo (because she plays banjo***), Carllão Maneiro and, again, Aldo Bueno, providing the crowd with a good dose of samba rhythms.

With only a few hours’ sleep, we dragged ourselves out of bed the next day to see roda de choro at a music shop round the corner. Every Saturday morning, the shop Contemporânea, hosts a gathering of vintage musicians (the guitarist is 85 years old!), the crème de la crème of the local traditional music scene. As in every roda, they switch places and instruments to play choro, as well as samba. Choro is a popular music (largely) instrumental style, originating in the 19^th century. You can read about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choro, but don’t take wikipedia’s word for certain as I have heard from a trustworthy source that it was actually born in Argentina, not Brazil. Leaving this debate aside, the weekly event is truly unmissable. A few wooden benches in the shop’s back room, walls adorned with drawings portraits of great choro masters and faded pictures of them playing with friends in that very shop.

By midday there’s barely room to sit, but as there seems to be a roda of the audience as well, I eventually manage to squeeze in. And the most authentic sounds of Brazil’s tradition start to seep into my ear, raising the hair on my skin and silencing my tongue. I dare not breathe fully in case I let this air of emotion out too soon. I survey the room. Senile gentlemen share the space with young fathers who decided their sons needed a more sophisticated musical education. Mature ladies smile at the mesmerized tourists whose shaking hands try to grasp every moment of greatness. After a few pieces, my initial stupor lets go and my body begins to sway rhythmically. Hands start to clap and don’t stop until the show’s over two hours later. OK, I do take breaks. For filming.

*my BF and I, and a few other jolly people
**the most popular brand of flip-flops, or chinelo, in Brazil.
***you might want to look this one up for yourselves, eh?

Samba time!

Finally! After weeks of waiting, I got to see live samba. It had been rather difficult when I was staying outside the city, but now that I’m in the centre most music bars are a stone’s throw away. On Wednesday night we headed for Vila Madalena, a rather posh area where every corner bustles with activity, like lifting glasses of beer to the sounds of guitar, cavaco, pandeiro and/or some other noisy instrument. At a place called Pau Brasil, there was roda de samba. It’s a very old Brazilian tradition of playing this particular genre, which involves musicians sitting in a circle (roda) or sometimes round a table and taking turns to play/sing until dawn. Depending on the venue, this can take the form of a friendly gathering or is more like a show, with artists keeping their distance from the beer-sipping crowd. By the way, I have been told (warned?) that samba and cerveja (beer) always go together, so unless you’re pregnant or under-age, there is no excuse. Not like I was looking for one, but just so that you know. Great sambistas are invariably great drinkers too.

What I loved about that night at Pau Brasil, is that it felt like one big party, with musicians so close to you that you risked getting elbowed in the stomach. And if you got too excited dancing and singing like everybody (!) else in the club, that beer bottle that you’ve just accidentally knocked down ended up at their feet.

Unfortunately, it was too dark there to film properly but at least you can get an idea about the music. It’s Aldo Bueno performing "Mas Quem Disse Que Eu Te Esqueço". More videos coming soon.