My soundtrack of Bahia – the berimbau
Monday, November 3rd, 2008I thought berimbau was some sort of Asian dish when I first heard the word. But in Brazil, and especially
where I was in Bahia (the northeast corner of Brazil, jutting out into the Atlantic), I learned immediately that it was not some sort of curry or a sweet and sour dish. It’s a strange, haunting, beautiful instrument found throughout Brazil but especially in Bahia, home of the equally infamous dance called capoeira. In fact, the berimbau and capoeira are mutually dependent – the one requiring the presence of the other. If there were only one instrument to symbolize Bahia, I would say it’s the berimbau. Any scenario I can imagine (everything from a samba dancing in a town square to a honeymoon cabana on the beach) I can hear a berimbau’s rubbery, liquid notes as an underscore to these soundtracks.
An artist friend of mine who lived with me for the two months I was in Brazil learned how to play the berimbau. He is a musician from Bangladesh; a classical flute player and composer by trade; a fanatic musical instrument collector by night! The evening he arrived back at the house with an elongated, soft case strapped to his back, nearly the same height as he is, I knew there was a new instrument in the house. His eyes glittered, and despite the fatigue of the journey to and from Salvador from Itaparica
(the island where we lived) to fetch the berimbau and then wrangle it on the buses, kombis (mini van taxis that scoot all over the island) and the final boat ride across the Bay of All Saints, he looked overjoyed. He pulled the berimbau from its case, and gave us the briefest of demonstrations. It seems to require four hands where most of us are only equipped with two: you need to stretch your pinky to hold the thin, bottom brace while at the same time maintaining the proper and fluctuating tension of the string; and then at the same time, the other hand is playing the notes with a little basket on stick filled with beans or shells. The notes resound through the hollowed gourd at the base of the instrument, which rests against the musician’s belly. I have no desire to learn to play it myself; but I’m happy to listen every chance I get. It’s the music of Brazil that is the most haunting; the most mysterious; the most indicative of the vibrant blend of cultures that make up northeast Brazil: Indigenous, African, Portuguese, and others who have crept in over the centuries. Whether you’re in Brazil to explore the Amazon or bask in a h
oneymoon glow or learn to speak Portuguese and dance the samba, listen for the berimbau! You’ll know it by the twang and the rhythmic heartbeat notes that can be the soundtrack to your Brazilian experiences.
