Intersections of music, gender, community and so much more
The first time I joined my partner, Robert, on his Fulbright in 2020 I got asked this question a lot – But what are YOU going to do? I think I really embodied it. Honestly, I was a little annoyed by the implications and demands for accounting for my worthiness that were sometimes behind this question. But truly I place the same demands on myself, and at least some of those implications were just reflections from my own mind.
Take two of the Fulbright, though, and, with the obvious heaviness of so much in the world, people were more apt to say, “Yes, absolutely that makes sense. Go!”, when I haven’t even told them my long list of reasons or explained my practiced arguments. I appreciate that, thank you kind friends. While my mind is still slow to let go of the need to prove myself, I have a little more mental space now to let things settle.
I’m excited to share the complexities of what brings me here. I hope that through documenting my experiences and some of my work through this writing that I can better illuminate the connections at play, as well as how I’ve been engaging with them in my musical work.
But first, let me tell you about a concert.
On July 8th, in Salvador, I saw the artist Liniker perform, with the Rumpilezz joining for a portion of the set. Other than Carnaval, this was the biggest concert I’ve seen in Brazil. The energy was uplifting and glowing warm, with queer pride at the forefront and white clothing generously dappled throughout the crowd. The latter is a tendency commonly seen in Bahia on Friday’s to honor the orixá Oxalá. I knew the music of Liniker before I knew anything about her personal story as an openly transgendered woman. I knew the work of the Rumpilezz more actually – feeling the weight of the recent loss of the group’s leader Letieres Leite and having missed a 2020 Carnaval performance of theirs (one of those things I won’t stop kicking myself for even though the reason was beyond my control). With their mix of Candomblé rhythms and extended jazz style instrumentation, in my eyes they epitomize an area of Brazilian music that is bringing together dynamic influences and pushing the boundaries of existing genres.
When the Rumpilezz joined the stage, it was with Gabi Guedes, an acclaimed Brazilian percussionist and Candomblé practitioner, playing the iconic lead drum of Candomblé, the rúm (pronounced hoom), and two femme presenting people playing the two support drums. Of course this is in the midst of several other percussionists and the extended instrumentation of the group, but I want to dwell on these three traditional drums of Candomblé. Women, and gender/sex ambiguous people in general, are not allowed to play for Candomblé ceremonies. While they can learn Candomblé drum parts and play in non-ceremonial shows or presentations, the tendency in these musical spaces is that percussionists are male. So it was notable to me that the Rumpilezz included two femme folks in this performance.
So I was already vibing on this show big time. Beautiful and energetic music, fabulous gender and genre bending, and inspiring playing.
And then who hops up onto the stage other than Nildinha Fonseca, a queen of Afro-Brazilian and Candomblé dance who lives in Salvador, and someone I was honored to study with some years ago. Nildinha gives Liniker a long hug of respect and greeting, mid-verse, and then proceeds to dance in a Candomblé solo style while the band plays a song based on the Ijexá rhythm.
Y’all, I lost my shit and started crying.
THIS is why I’m in Brazil. To personally discover and experience the genre pushing music that exists here – renowned and fringe; to better understand what my path in studying Candomblé will be going forward, especially as a white, genderqueer foreigner; to dig into the significance of gender and queer bodies, which lies at the core of so much; to experience how the Afro-Brazilian tradition of Candomblé, and the African Diaspora in general continues to shape the culture of experimental and genre-defying music. This concert brought together so much of that and presented it to the audience naturally, like it’s always been there. And maybe it has?
This is Strength. This is Community. And this is the Future.