Drums of Passion

With aspirations of world political and cultural
solidarity, the percussive impulse of Olodum
returns to Southern California.

Bruce Gilman

Words cannot adequately capture the substance of the group that invented samba-reggae and whose music instilled a new pride and solidarity among residents of the Pelourinho, a national historical district once abandoned by the city of Salvador's official policies. How can prose communicate the transcultural rhythms that have won over not only the trio elétrico musicians of Brazil but also artists in the United States like Paul Simon, Michael Jackson, Ricky Martin, and Spike Lee? Somewhere I read that magic only happens when you set a place for it at the table. On June 16, 2001, Brazilian Nites Productions, will set that table, evoking an aural landscape and a cultural context, when they bring to the John Anson Ford Amphitheatre the immediacy, the electricity, and the raw essence of Olodum.

Olodum (from the Yoruban supreme deity Olódùmarè) was established in 1979 by young blacks in Salvador, Bahia, as a vocal and percussion group, or bloco afro, that was preparing to parade in Salvador's Carnaval. Rehearsals, however, became impressive cultural events with hundreds of community residents coming to hear new music and dance, so that within a year, Olodum had thousands of followers. Their fusion of Brazilian and Jamaican rhythms, combined with elements of funk, created a stir in the recording industry, and their first albums quickly surpassed sales of Brazilian rock. After internal reorganization in 1983, Grupo Cultural Olodum was created as an umbrella organization that implemented social and cultural projects to combat racial discrimination, stimulate self-esteem, and defend the civil and human rights of all marginalized people.

In early 1990, Olodum recorded "The Obvious Child" with Paul Simon for his CD The Rhythm of the Saints, and the video clip received screenings in 140 countries. Two years later, the group's presence on Bahia Black/Ritual Beating System, alongside jazz masters Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter, set the tone for a slew of other recordings that would attempt to imitate the same extraordinary balance of torrential Brazilian percussion and eloquent jazz harmonies. The following year, Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso released Olodum's "Nossa Gente" on their CD Tropicália 2. With increasing worldwide exposure via tours to Japan, Argentina, Chile, and Switzerland, and continued success of their recordings, which were awarded Prêmios Sharp (Brazil's equivalent of the Grammy) in 1990, 1992, 1993, and 1994, Olodum abandoned the exclusive emphasis on percussion, which was characteristic of their first discs, and brought guitars, keyboards, and horns into their professional touring group, Banda Reggae Olodum.

Today, in addition to its Carnaval activities, Olodum operates a theater company, a dance company, forums for public debates and seminars, a store (selling books, newspapers, and clothing with the Olodum logo), a school for children, whose curriculum includes instruction in music, dance, language, and mathematics as well as the professional touring band. One may think that the black movement in Bahia, which was propelled by Olodum, has brought positive and lasting change to the area, but according to Olodum's cultural director, Esmeraldo "Billy" Arquimimo, blacks have been short-changed and left disappointed. I spoke with Arquimimo, about urban renewal, politics, and Carnaval.

Brazzil—Can you give me a brief sketch of the Pelourinho's history and describe what it was like before Olodum?

Arquimimo—In colonial times, the Pelourinho was a place of slavery. Blacks were auctioned in the Terreiro de Jesus, and were whipped, tortured, and murdered in the Pelourinho. Middle and upper-class families, occupied the homes in the Pelourinho up until the 1940's and 1950's. But little by little, these people left, and the Pelourinho fell to ruin and was eventually inhabited by poor people. It became a place of violence and prostitution, unsafe both for tourists and residents. When we founded Olodum in 1979, the people lacked cohesion and were ignorant about their traditions. They had no community interests. We knew that if a common ground could be established, we could bring them together.

Brazzil—How did you establish that common ground?

Arquimimo—Creating solidarity in the community wasn't difficult because there were no movements at the time, and the people needed something to tie them together. We promoted music by playing together, which wasn't difficult because music is in the people. We performed social work and created job opportunities for the adults who lived in the Pelourinho, and we taught the kids to play drums and to dance. Then we started teaching about the African Diaspora, about black culture. Nobody in Bahia went to the Pelourinho until Olodum started to change it, and then people started coming just to check out this Olodum thing. We improved conditions by raising black self-esteem through art, dance, and music. Olodum came, and elaborating on the work started by Ilê Aiyê, developed a brotherhood that wanted to rescue the culture of Bahia, start a process of rebuilding, and fight for its place in the sun. Olodum became a small island of hope in the midst of all the misery.

Brazzil—Was it hard to get the kids to buy in?

Arquimimo—In the beginning, it was difficult because these kids were wild. The streets were full of kids doing nothing, anything. Olodum developed activities so the kids would get busy learning something and not just be hanging around on the streets. One kid would bring another kid who saw how learning to play music and to dance was fun, and that kid would bring another. Then we started making presentations at schools and universities, creating things, getting the kids occupied with information instead of being on the streets all the time. These classes for the kids are what started pulling the Pelourinho together. Residents were touched by our work, and Olodum started getting approval from all sectors of the city. Taking poor kids off the streets and getting them involved in some kind of cultural activity is beautiful work, and we received recognition, sympathy, and support not only from other musicians and artists but also from the political parties. All the other blocos afro—Ara Ketu, Muzenza, Ilê Aiyê—supported Olodum, and together we became part of a unified black movement.

Brazzil—So the other blocos were supportive of Olodum's work?

Arquimimo—Definitely! When the other blocos started attending our shows, we created the Liberty Route, a performance circuit with Ilê Aiyê, Olodum, and other blocos afro that ran from Saturday to Monday and went from the Pelourinho to the Tororó neighborhood. All of Bahia's black people attended these shows, and this helped establish a sense of community and empower our culture, our music. That's what we wanted and why we named it the Liberty Route.

Brazzil—Olodum has different bands, dance groups, nurseries, music schools, and each sub-division has its own director. Can you talk a little about the music programs?

Arquimimo—Let me explain everything to you. Grupo Cultural Olodum is the heart of Olodum and is responsible for all of the organization's subdivisions. Escola Criativa Olodum is the school where we provide children and adolescents with free classes, and inside the escola, we have Banda Mirim Olodum, which is an educational, non-professional ensemble. Bloco Mirim is a great opportunity for children who wouldn't ordinarily have the chance to perform with a Carnaval group. But since they have studied and learned how to play in the Escola Criativa Olodum, we bring them all together for one day so they can parade during Carnaval. Their Carnaval themes often express children's rolls in relation to the theme that the adult groups are working with that year. When we have Bloco Olodum rehearsals on Tuesday nights, it isn't professional work, it is cultural work, a cultural event. We used to have them every Sunday night in the Pelourinho, but now that rehearsal has changed to the Praça de Terreiro de Jesus. This is where we develop our ideas, so the people who play don't receive any payment. This is also where we give new people opportunities to perform, and it's really, really necessary for everyone who wants to be a singer, who wants to be a musician, to have the opportunity to show themselves off. Although we call them ensaios, they're not rehearsals, they're really shows. We've been working very hard so that when musicians leave Olodum, they can promote themselves by saying that they've performed with Olodum, and this tends to validate their work in other projects. For our professional work, we have Banda Reggae Olodum.

Brazzil—Was there a specific point when you felt that Olodum's work had permanence?

Arquimimo—Olodum matured and really began to show results in 1986 when we started giving seminars and bringing in interesting black guest speakers to discuss important issues and enrich our programs. We learned from them and absorbed their philosophies as well as the philosophies of other black leaders who talked about autonomy, like Malcolm X and Marcus Garvey. In turn, our self-esteem and our confidence grew, and with that, our movement. No other group spoke so freely about black liberty before Olodum, none existed.

Brazzil—How was Olodum's work different from the work of groups like Filhos de Gandhi, Ilê Aiyê, and Badauê?

Arquimimo—Olodum invested in the kids, and rather than talk about revolution, we talked about love. The result of all this work can be seen in so many black Bahian people today who are thinking about their futures, who want to study, who want to compete with white people for a spot in the university, who want to have careers. These are people who had never thought about these things as possible realities. They thought only about becoming someone's employee, someone's maid. You know, even if we stopped today, the momentum of our work would continue. Now the people have more initiative to do these kinds of things. Today, there are a lot of people and organizations doing this kind of work in Bahia, a work that started with the seeds planted by Olodum.

Brazzil—Have you noticed any negative backlashes?

Arquimimo—That's interesting because after our work captured the governor's attention, he decided to invest in the Pelourinho and to develop it in order to bring in more tourists and generate money. Now the area is a very colorful visitor attraction, and it generates a lot of money. But he invested in the place, not in the people themselves, and that's unfortunate.

Brazzil—What do you mean?

Arquimimo—Everyone who goes to Brazil, feels that they must see the Pelourinho, and that if they don't, they've missed Bahia. We now have many restaurants and art galleries in the Pelourinho. You know what I'm saying? After the governor rebuilt the houses, they became commercial properties; consequently, poor people can't afford to live in them anymore. Pelourinho today is a totally touristic place. It's like a postcard of Bahia.

Brazzil—Does Olodum receive any financial assistance from local government for Carnaval?

Arquimimo—Local politicians may say, "Okay, we'll help you." But then we're taxed for the number of people that parade with the bloco. So with one hand they give you money, and with the other, they take it away. You know? It's very complicated. It's very, very difficult for small groups like Ilê Aiyê and Olodum to participate in Carnaval when "Class A" and "Class B" groups, who charge a lot for costumes, are receiving sponsorships from the airlines and beer and computer companies. So much revolves around personal friendships with people in important political positions.

Brazzil—Why do you think Carnaval in Rio receives better TV coverage than Carnaval in Bahia?

Arquimimo—The Carnaval in Rio receives better coverage and is the most well-known because TV Globo is in Rio, and they promote and export the image of Rio's Carnaval all over the world. It's a spectacular production, but more of a tourist event. Carnaval in Bahia is for the people. I think that the image exported from Carnaval in Rio, with all the nude women, sends a message that the Brazilian woman is a prostitute. And this is the strongest impression people outside Brazil who don't have too much information receive of our country. Carnaval in Rio is also more conspicuous because the samba of Rio de Janeiro represents Brazil whereas the music from Bahia represents just Bahia. Olodum appeared to show a different image of the Brazilian reality.

Brazzil—Do you always try to include a reference to Africa in your Carnaval themes?

Arquimimo—Normally we try to. The work of Olodum in Bahia is to bring Africa back to Brazil as much as possible so the people retain a consciousness of their cultural roots. Sometimes we mix cultures, and sometimes we incorporate a political theme to keep the people more informed. It hasn't been easy for people to get the information over the last two or three years because we've had a lot of foolishness, a lot of foolish movements like pagode. Also the new music, Olodum's new songs are not in the media as much as they had been in the past. If you aren't in the media selling a lot of CD's, you're not doing what the media wants. You know? Olodum is a black group and black people aren't liked by the media.

Brazzil—How are Olodum and Ilê Aiyê different?

Arquimimo—Ilê Aiyê, from the Liberdade area, was the first to organize and create a group that attempted to instill black pride. Olodum came five years later, but we were better organized and took a lot more time coordinating our operations. Ilê Aiyê is a bloco associated with traditional black roots that accepts only "pure" blacks as members. A typical Brazilian mulatto, can't parade with Ilê. Olodum allows people of any race to parade with the group, and we freely mix musical elements of all sorts in our compositions. We're the most democratic group on the planet.

Brazzil—What does being a black Brazilian mean today?

Arquimimo—Your question is very political. Before Olodum started, there was a lot more racism in Bahia. Thirty years ago blacks were ashamed to be black. Black people could not dance in Carnaval with the white blocos. They could not enter clubs through the front door. In Bahia, where one is either black, not so black, or almost white, many people are still concerned about how they appear in the eyes of their contemporaries. Just today, I met with some friends after the soccer game, and one guy, who is lighter than I am, said, "I have some friends who are black, but they are really good people." I just had to roll my eyes. In the past, magazine ads and TV commercials used only white models, white actors, but now we're starting to see ads with black people. Next we'll see black mannequins in the clothing stores. This is the fruit of the black movement and a lot of fighting, a lot of hard work. But the black in Brazil still has a long way to go before he can hold his head up.

Brazzil—Many of Olodum's songs talk about Zumbi and the quilombo Palmares. Can you talk a little about Zumbi and his importance in Olodum's music?

Arquimimo—The United States has had many important black leaders like W.E.B. Du Bois, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King who symbolize the fight for liberty. In Brazil, there is Zumbi and the Republic of Palmares. Palmares was a remarkable achievement that grew from a handful of fugitive slaves into a complex political and economic infrastructure with thousands of inhabitants, trade routes, and a legal system. The Portuguese soldiers who finally entered the walled city after many decades and slow, bitter battles were awed and inspired when they saw the leaders of Palmares hurl themselves from a rocky point to certain death rather than surrender. As a musical group, many of our songs tell the story of Zumbi. We keep his story alive and try to explain how Zumbi educated our people about their right to be free. The best way Olodum can keep the image of Zumbi alive is through our songs and through the rhythms of our drums.

Brazzil—How strongly is Olodum's music connected to Afro-Brazilian religion?

Arquimimo—Of course, the rhythm of candomblé is a base, but our music and drums have very little to do with religion. The atabaques of candomblé are too heavy for the street. To take the music of candomblé to the streets, you need lighter instruments like the timbal, the repique, and surdos. Olodum's particular sonority is created by our surdos, which are built to larger dimensions than the common surdo.

Brazzil—What effect do you think Olodum's music has had on the mangue beat movement?

Arquimimo—There has always been a kind rivalry between the music of Bahia and the music from Recife, the maracatu. The maracatu has its own rich culture, so I can't say that we've influenced them rhythmically or musically. We only gave them the incentive to explore the possibilities. We gave them the impulse to do as well with the music from Recife as Olodum was doing with the music of Bahia. When Chico Science created the mangue beat, it was a mix of maracatu with electronics. It's a mix, not a new groove. There has been nothing in terms of new grooves since Olodum created samba-reggae.

Brazzil—Do you think Olodum loses its unique personality or power when it tours like a band with horns, guitar, and keyboards?

Arquimimo—Sometimes people go to Bahia and see Olodum preparing for Carnaval parade with just drums, and that's a powerful impression and a lot of drums. But traveling with so many people is difficult and expensive. And usually the people who hire us don't want more than fifteen or twenty people. When we started going overseas in 1990, and meeting other groups like Youssou N' Dour's and Fela Kuti's, we noticed they used a different format for touring. We learned from them to incorporate other instruments, to create a touring band, which, by the way, is made up of our best musicians. That was what brought about the change. When we travel today we bring seventeen musicians, nine are percussionists, who with very little amplification, sound like a really muscular bloco.

Brazzil—How was Olodum's work with Paul Simon different from their work with Spike Lee?

Arquimimo—Paul Simon is an intuitive artist. When he heard Olodum playing in 1988, he understood we had a new rhythm and decided to include us on his CD. The exposure we received by working with Paul Simon was extremely helpful and assisted Olodum in becoming popular all over the world. For example, in '95, when Olodum went to Europe for the first time, it helped promoters to say that Olodum is the group that collaborated with Paul Simon. Our performance with Paul Simon in Central Park in 1991 was genuinely valuable. But when we worked with Michael Jackson, we were never compensated for the tremendous amount of work involved, and it was hard work that was supposed to bring Olodum fresh publicity in the music marketplace in the United States, in England, and throughout Europe. But it never happened. When Paul Simon came to Brazil something like twelve or thirteen years ago, Olodum was not well known outside of Brazil. When we worked with Michael Jackson in '96, Spike Lee already knew of our success with Paul Simon, but he didn't consider us a professional group, a group performing positive community work in Brazil for our society and for the fight against segregation. He just wanted to have Olodum's drums. Basically, we were exploited by Michael Jackson and Spike Lee.

Brazzil—I know a new Olodum CD has been in the works for some time. Will Bahia Negra (Black Bahia) be released in time for the show in Los Angeles?

Arquimimo—No, unfortunately, but the show we are bringing is called Bahia Negra. There's a lot of politics involved concerning the new CD. Sony was supposed to have it ready last October, but because we're not as commercial as some of their other bands, because our music is more political and has more to do with black consciousness, they're investing more in artists who can sell thousands of CD's. Sony could release our CD's all over the world, but they don't see Olodum as a commercially viable act. Multi-national record companies want white people singing black music. Daniela Mercury is famous only because she sings black music. It's a shame, but it's true. Olodum is not going to make anybody rich, but we have taught and inspired many who keep propagating black culture and black pride, and that's all that we can hope for.

Nossa Gente (Avisa Lá) Roque Carvalho Avisa lá que eu vou chegar mais tarde, ô yes Vou me juntar com o Olodum que é da alegria É denominado de vulcão O estampido ecoou nos quatro cantos do mundo Em menos de um minuto, em segundos Nossa gente é quem bendiz É quem mais dança Os gringos se afinavam na folia Os deuses igualando todo encanto, toda dança Rataplam dos tambores gratificam Quem fica não pensa em voltar Afeição à primeira vista O beijo, o batom que não vai mais soltar A expressão do rosto identifica Avisa lá, avisa lá, avisa lá, ô, ô Avisa lá que eu vou

Our People (Tell Them) Tell them that I'll be late, very late I'm going to join Olodum, which is happiness It is the power of the volcano Whose erupting echoes in the four corners of the world In less than a minute, in seconds Our people, all dancing, are blessed Even gringos get in tune with the revelry All gods equally, all enchantment, all dancing The language of the drums gratifies Whoever comes never thinks of leaving Affection at first sight The kiss, the lipstick that never lets go Leaves an expression on their faces Tell them, tell them, tell them, oh, oh Tell them that I will go

 

Alegria Geral Alberto Pita / Moço Pop / Yitthamar Tropicalha O Olodum tá hippie, o Olodum tá pop O Olodum tá reggae, o Olodum tá rock, O Olodum pirou de vez E canta, canta, Salvador Canta, canta, canta, meu amor Canta, canta, o Olodum do Pelô Todos os domingos e terças-feiras Tem samba de roda e capoeira Domingo, tem Olodum no Pelô Na terça tem a bênção do Senhor O Pelourinho se transforma em Carnaval Nesse momento a alegria é geral No samba de roda eu toco agogô Junto com Tom Zé, Capinam e Canô

Universal Happiness Olodum is hippie, Olodum is pop Olodum is reggae, Olodum is rock Olodum got totally crazy And sing, sing Salvador Sing, sing, sing my love Sing, sing Olodum of Pelourinho Every Sunday and Tuesday There is samba de roda and capoeira Sunday, Olodum in the Pelourinho On Tuesday there is the blessing of Jesus The Pelourinho becomes Carnaval In that moment, happiness is all-embracing In the samba de roda, I play agogô Together with Tom Zé, Capinam, and Canô

 

Faraó Divindade do Egito Luciano Gomes Eu falei faraó Deuses, divindade infinita do universo Predominante, esquema mitológico A ênfase do espirito original "Chu" Formará no Éden um ovo cósmico A emersão nem Osíris sabe como aconteceu Eu falei pra nação Que a emersão nem Osíris sabe como aconteceu A ordem ou submissão do olho seu Transformou-se na verdadeira humanidade Epopéia do código de Gueb e Nut gerou as estrelas Osíris proclamou matrimônio com Isis E o mau Seth, irado o assassinou em Per-a-a Horus levando avante a vingança do pai Derrotando o império do mau Seth O grito da vitória que nos satisfaz, cadê? Tutancamon, Eh! Gizé Akahenaton, Eh! Gizé Eu falei faraó Eh! faraó Eu clamo Olodum-Pelourinho Eh! faraó Piramidê a base do Egito Eh! faraó Esse é Olodum rebentão Eh! faraó Que mara, mara, mara, maravilha é Egito, Egito é Faraó, ó, ó, ó

Pharaoh Divinity of Egypt I said Pharaoh Gods, infinite divinities of the universe Predominant, mythological plan Consequence of the original spirit Shu Will create in Eden a cosmic egg Not even Osiris knows how the emergence happened I said to the nation That emergence, not even Osiris knows how it happened The order or submission of your eye Transformed into true humanity Epic code of Geb and Nut begat the stars Osiris proclaimed his marriage with Isis And the evil Set, murdered him brutally in Pera Horus avenging his father's death Defeated the empire of the evil Set The shout of victory that satisfies. Where is it? Tutankhamen, Eh! Giza Akhenaten, Eh! Giza I told Pharaoh Eh! Pharaoh I claim Olodum-Pelourinho Eh! Pharaoh Pyramid the base of Egypt Eh! Pharaoh That is Olodum bursting ecstatically Eh! Pharaoh How wonder, wonder, wonder, wonderful, it is Egypt, Egypt, is Pharaoh, oh, oh, oh

 

Selected Discography:

Artist	Title	Label	Year
Olodum	Bahia Negra	Sony	Eventually
Olodum	A Música do Olodum—20 Anos	Columbia	1999
Olodum	Liberdade	Warner	1997
Olodum	Roma Negra	Warner	1996
Olodum	Sol e Mar—Olodum Ao Vivo em Montreux	Warner	1995
Olodum	Filhos do Sol	Warner	1995
Olodum	O Movimento	Warner	1993
Olodum	A Música do Olodum	Continental	1992
Olodum	Bahia Black/Ritual Beating System	Axiom	1992
Olodum	Da Atlântida à Bahia - O Mar É o Caminho	Continental	1991
Paul Simon	The Rhythm of the Saints	Warner	1990
Olodum	Do Nordeste do Saara ao Nordeste Brasileiro	Continental	1989
Olodum	Núbia Axum Etiópia	Continental	1988
Olodum	Egito Madagáscar	Continental	1987

Web sites of interest:

Brazilian Nites Productions http://www.braziliannites.com  

Olodum—Official Site http://www.uol.com.br/olodum  

* Many thanks to Ana Gazzola of Yellow Green Productions for her invaluable technical support.

Bruce Gilman, music editor for Brazzil, received his Masters degree in music from California Institute of the Arts. He leads the Brazilian jazz ensemble Axé and plays cuíca for escola de samba MILA. You can reach him through his e-mail: cuica@interworld.net 

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