![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Pra não dizer que não falei das flores
"Pra não dizer que não falei das flores" is the name of a Brazilian song. It means "So it can't be said that I didn't speak of flowers." It's also known as "Caminhando" (Walking). I came across it originally as part of a medley of songs sung by Chico César, a Brazilian reggae singer. (The whole medley is just wonderful and I listen to it all the time.)
When he segued over to "Pra não dizer que não falei das flores," my heart was grabbed by the lyrics:
Especially that last part: learning and teaching a new lesson.
Then it got to the chorus, and he just pointed to the audience, and they sang the whole things without him. They'd done that earlier with his song "Mama Africa," but only after he'd sung it through once. Here he just turned it over to the audience, and they belted it out. (If you start here, you can hear that.)
It was clear they knew it *so well.*
So I got curious about the song. And it turns out it has an amazing story behind it. Wikipedia tells me that it was composed by Geraldo Vandré, who sang it at the Festival Internacional da Canção in 1968, where it was "the most applauded song of the night"--but only came in second place, because the army felt it was too critical of the government (at that time Brazil was under a military dictatorship). The next day, playing the song was banned, and all recordings of Vandré's performance at the festival were destroyed. Vandré himself had to go into exile.
Geraldo Vandré, as drawn by Jeferson Nepomuceno
Wikipedia says (though it's marked as "citation needed"), "'Walking' is regarded by many as the true Brazilian national hymn" and that it is "sung emotionally and in a spontaneous way by a large number of people."
That chorus, by the way:
(Here's a 1968 recording of the audience joining in with Vandré singing--I've set it to where the audience joins in.)
It really does seem to have anthemic stature. Here's a link to the whole song, sung by Vandré (not live).
Here's an image that's used on Youtube for a remix of a version of the song as sung by Simone, a well-known Brazilian singer who was--so Wikipedia tells me--the first to record it after censorship was lifted.
I think it's a cool image... and/but also, as someone who writes about a country that honors Abstractions, it's interesting to me that Order and Progress are what made it to the national flag ... they seem ominously predictive of the struggles Brazil has had. ... Not that "Liberty and Justice for all" as a slogan guarantees that anything like that will be what the population actually gets, but...
... okay, gonna just drift off now.
When he segued over to "Pra não dizer que não falei das flores," my heart was grabbed by the lyrics:
Caminhando e cantando e seguindo a canção
Somos todos iguais, braços dados ou não
Nas escolas, nas ruas, campos, construções
Aprendendo e ensinando uma nova lição
(Walking and singing and continuing the song
We are all equal, arms linked or not
In the schools, the streets, fields, buildings
Learning and teaching a new lesson)
Especially that last part: learning and teaching a new lesson.
Then it got to the chorus, and he just pointed to the audience, and they sang the whole things without him. They'd done that earlier with his song "Mama Africa," but only after he'd sung it through once. Here he just turned it over to the audience, and they belted it out. (If you start here, you can hear that.)
It was clear they knew it *so well.*
So I got curious about the song. And it turns out it has an amazing story behind it. Wikipedia tells me that it was composed by Geraldo Vandré, who sang it at the Festival Internacional da Canção in 1968, where it was "the most applauded song of the night"--but only came in second place, because the army felt it was too critical of the government (at that time Brazil was under a military dictatorship). The next day, playing the song was banned, and all recordings of Vandré's performance at the festival were destroyed. Vandré himself had to go into exile.
Wikipedia says (though it's marked as "citation needed"), "'Walking' is regarded by many as the true Brazilian national hymn" and that it is "sung emotionally and in a spontaneous way by a large number of people."
That chorus, by the way:
Vem, vamos embora, que esperar não é saber
Quem sabe faz a hora, não espera acontecer
(Come, let’s go, for waiting is not knowing
The one who knows makes the time and doesn’t wait for it to happen)
(Here's a 1968 recording of the audience joining in with Vandré singing--I've set it to where the audience joins in.)
It really does seem to have anthemic stature. Here's a link to the whole song, sung by Vandré (not live).
Here's an image that's used on Youtube for a remix of a version of the song as sung by Simone, a well-known Brazilian singer who was--so Wikipedia tells me--the first to record it after censorship was lifted.
I think it's a cool image... and/but also, as someone who writes about a country that honors Abstractions, it's interesting to me that Order and Progress are what made it to the national flag ... they seem ominously predictive of the struggles Brazil has had. ... Not that "Liberty and Justice for all" as a slogan guarantees that anything like that will be what the population actually gets, but...
... okay, gonna just drift off now.
no subject
no subject
Thank you--I love it so much. I'm such a crybaby; I can't listen to it without tearing up.
no subject
no subject
"Ainda fazem da flor seu mais forte refrão
E acreditam nas flores vencendo o canhão"
(They still make the flower their strongest refrain
And believe in flowers vanquishing the cannon)--I mean I don't know that **I** believe in the flowers overcoming the cannons--not in a direct contest, anyway--but ultimately? YEAH.)
Or this:
"Somos todos soldados, armados ou não" --"We are all soldiers, armed or not" ... You can see why the army went "Uh-Uh, nope, you're not singing that one." But the singers kept singing and are STILL singing.
no subject
no subject
So much of the most passionate music turns out not to be written for lovers at all, but to kings or kingdoms, politics, ideals. Which can be so very dangerous, but people still do it, and sing dangerous (and uplifting and mourning) songs years and years after the current ruction is no more than memory.
Your post reminded me of this dangerous, entrancing ballroom of mirrors: music and politics always watching each other.
no subject
And songs continue to put on new clothes with new eras--a love song can *become* a political song, or a political song can become an advertising jingle.
I like your parenthetical: (and uplifting and mourning). I feel that a lot.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject