Tropicália

Lyrics from “Tropicalia” by Caetano Veloso (1968)

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Spoken:

Quando Pero Vaz Caminha // When Pero Vaz Caminha
Descobriu que as terras brasileiras // Discovered that the Brazilian lands
Eram férteis e verdejantes// Were fertile and verdant
Escreveu uma carta ao rei// He wrote a letter to the king
“Tudo que nela se planta // Everything planted here
Tudo cresce e floresce”// Everything grows and blossoms
E o Gauss da época gravou// And the Gauss of that time recorded it

Sobre a cabeça os aviões // Over my head airplanes
Sob os meus pés os caminhões// Under my feet trucks
Aponta contra os chapadões // Pointing out against the plains
Meu nariz // My nose
Eu organizo o movimento // I organize the movement
Eu oriento o carnaval // I direct the Carnival
Eu inauguro o monumento no planalto central // I inaugurate the monument in the Central Plateau
Do país // Of the country
Viva a bossa-sa-sa // Viva bossa-sa-sa
Viva a palhoça-ça-ça-ça-ça // Viva straw huts-uts-uts-uts-uts
Viva a bossa-sa-sa // Viva bossa-sa-sa
Viva a palhoça-ça-ça-ça-ça // Viva straw huts-uts-uts-uts-uts

O monumento é de papel crepom e prata // The monument is made of crepe paper and silver
Os olhos verdes da mulata // The “mulatta’s green eyes”
A cabeleira esconde atrás da verde mata // Her big hair obscures behind the green bush
O luar do sertão// The “moonlight of the sertão” (backlands)
O monumento não tem porta // The monument has no door
A entrada de uma rua antiga, estreita e torta// It’s an old entryway, narrow and twisted
E no joelho uma criança sorridente, feia e morta// And on its knee a smiling child, ugly and dead
Estende a mão// Stretches out its hand
Viva a mata-ta-ta // Viva the forest
Viva a mulata-ta-ta-ta-ta// Viva the mulatta-ta-ta-ta-ta
Viva a mata-ta-ta // Viva the forest, est est est est
Viva a mulata-ta-ta-ta-ta// Viva the mulata-ta-ta-ta-ta
No pátio interno há uma piscina // On the internal patio there’s a pool
Com água azul de Amaralina // With blue water from Amaralina
Coqueiro, brisa e fala nordestina e faróis// Coconut palm, breeze, northeastern lingo and lighthouses
Na mão direita tem uma roseira // On the right-hand side there’s a rose bush
Autenticando eterna primavera// Establishing eternal springtime
E nos jardins os urubus passeiam a tarde inteira// And in the garden the vultures spend the whole afternoon
Entre os girassóis // Among the sunflowers
Viva Maria-ia-ia // Viva Maria-ia-ia
Viva a Bahia-ia-ia-ia-ia // Viva Bahia-ia-ia-ia-ia
Viva Maria-ia-ia // Viva Maria-ia-ia
Viva a Bahia-ia-ia-ia-ia // Viva Bahia-ia-ia-ia-ia
No pulso esquerdo bang-bang// On its left wrist, a (Hollywood) Western
Em suas veias corre muito pouco sangue // In its veins runs very little blood
Mas seu coração balança a um samba de tamborim // But its heart swings to the samba of a tambourine
Emite acordes dissonantes // It emits dissonant chords
Pelos cinco mil alto-falantes// From 5,000 speakers
Senhora e senhores ele põe os olhos grandes // Ladies and gentleman it sets its big eyes
Sobre mim// On me
Viva Iracema-ma-ma// Viva Iracema-ma-ma
Viva Ipanema-ma-ma-ma//Viva Ipanema-ma-ma-ma
Viva Iracema-ma-ma// Viva Iracema-ma-ma
Viva Ipanema-ma-ma-ma// Viva Ipanema-ma-ma-ma
Domingo é o Fino da Bossa// Sunday the “Best of Bossa” is on (TV)
Segunda-feira está na fossa// Monday he’s in the dumps
Terça-feira vai à roça// Tuesday he goes to the fields
Porém// Nonetheless
O monumento é bem moderno// The monument is really modern
Não disse nada do modelo do meu terno// It didn’t say anything about the style of my suit
Que tudo mais vá pro inferno, meu bem// And “to hell with everything else,” my dear
Que tudo mais vá pro inferno, meu bem// And “to hell with everything else,” my dear
Viva a banda-da-da// Viva “A Banda”-da-da-da
Carmem Miranda-da-da-da-da// Carmen Miranda-da-da-da-da
Viva a banda-da-da// Viva “A Banda”-da-da-da
Carmem Miranda-da-da-da-da// Carmen Miranda-da-da-da-da

— Commentary —

I was sure I had already posted this song but it appears I have not! I have written a lot about the “tropicalist” or Tropicália movement of the late 1960s, including one of my earliest posts, “Panis et Circenses.” That movement took its name from this iconic song, which in turn took its name from the interactive 1967 art installation by Hélio Oiticica. Like the song, Oiticica’s “Tropicália” installation highlighted the stark contradictions of Brazil by juxtaposing lush tropical plants and sand, for instance, with structures meant to evoke the self-built favelas where increasing numbers of Brazil’s less privileged lived. Both the installation and then the Tropicália song and movement came as Brazil’s military dictatorship (1964-85) consolidated power and became increasingly repressive; in the context of Rio, leaders cast favelas as breeding grounds for communists, and many were torn down or otherwise destroyed, with residents removed to distant projects.

Like the installation, Veloso’s composition is a pastiche of symbols and images that highlight the contrasts and contradictions, or “dissonant chords” of Brazil. The lyrics are a “poetic construction of a monument that symbolizes contradictory Brazil,” as Charles Perrone has written in his excellent analysis of the song. That monument is in the then-new national capital of Brasilia, on the nation’s Planalto Central, or central plateau; the city’s hurried construction and 1960 inauguration under President Juscelino Kubitschek had come at the cost of the lives of countless workers, and transferred the nation’s capital from Rio de Janeiro to those dry central highlands.

Veloso begins with a spoken, tongue-in-cheek invocation of one of the foundational documents of Brazilian history, a 1500 letter from Portuguese knight Pero Vaz de Caminha to the King of Portugal about the recently discovered (for the Portuguese) land of Brazil and its people. Gauss was the name of the sound engineer recording this album for Veloso, hence why Veloso says the “Gauss of that time”– i.e. the scribe — “recorded it.” Instruments and sounds playfully evoking that period, such as the sound of loud bird cries and different percussive instruments, ironically play in the background as he speaks.

Veloso’s lyrics juxtapose symbols of the “real” Brazil — its straw huts and northeastern speech, its “blue water from Amaralina” (a beach in Salvador da Bahia, near where Veloso is from) and its Marias and mulattas — with stark images of modernity and tragedy (the airplanes, the vultures, the poverty of the very same straw huts). The lyrics are laced with tributes to popular Brazilian songs, and I’ve included those in quotations. They include several from the golden age of radio, songs that Veloso would have heard as a boy in Bahia such as “Luar do Sertão” and “Olhos Verdes” (Green Eyes), along with contemporary hits such as Chico Buarque’s “A Banda” (another of my earliest posts on this site), and Roberto Carlos’s “Quero que vá tudo pro inferno” (to hell with it all).

The starkest and most powerful image that really drives home the social message of the song is of the “ugly and dead” child with its hand outstretched, abandoned by the nation it represents, yet smiling.

This post is part of a series of quick weekly posts I am doing based on my History of Rio de Janeiro course playlist, so I will cut myself off here, but if you are interested in reading more about this song or Tropicália, check out my previous posts on the movement, linked above, and Christopher Dunn’s excellent book Brutality Garden.