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Tropicalia - Ou Panis Et Circensis (1968)

Focusing on `Ou Panis et Circensis`, one of Brazil`s essential albums.

Date : 02/03/2012

Author Information

Martin

Uploaded by : Martin
Uploaded on : 02/03/2012
Subject : Audio Production

The album that stood at the heart of the all-too-brief Brazilian artistic movement known, surprisingly, as tropicalia, is arguably the most influential record to come out of the country, one of the world's cultural hotbeds. The collective that created the album comprised of the songwriters and performers Gilberto Gil, Caetano Veloso, Tom Zé and Nara Leão, the band Os Mutantes and singer Gal Costa, with contributions from the lyricists Torquato Neto and José Carlos Capinam, and orchestral arrangements by Rogerio Duprat. As such, this is a true collaboration piece, in which the artists wrote for each other, played and sung together, and all sat lovingly alongside one another on the album sleeve. The latter appears to be somewhere between a family portrait and a tongue-in-cheek version of the cover of one of the most significant influences on the record's overall artistry, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, with the collective all fighting for space in the twelve-inch square. As well as drawing inspiration from the psychedelia emerging at the time from both sides of the Atlantic, Ou Panis et Circensis owes a creative debt to the more traditionally Brazilian genres of samba and bossa nova, as well as the avant-garde poetry of European Dada and poesia concreta (concrete poetry), a Brazilian movement in music and poetry from the 1950s.

Oh and, for the record, it's 'Panis' with an 'a' - as in Portuguese for 'bread' - along with 'Circensis', or 'circuses', deriving from a Roman phrase pertaining to simple pleasures. The album contains evidence of such simplicity in the penultimate song, the contagious Bat Macumba (Black Magic), the Gilberto Gil and Cataeno Veloso-penned number performed by Os Mutantes with Gil. The only words uttered throughout are, you guessed it, "bat macumba", but I challenge you not to be singing along by the end as you find yourself drawn in by the bouncing twang of guitar on one side and the upbeat Latin percussion on the other. Whilst this entrancing minimalism stands out as being particularly ear-catching, it is the complexity of the majority of the tracks that is wonderfully compelling. The cracking opener, Miserere Nóbis (written by Gilberto Gil and José Carlos Capinam, performed by Gil), is a song that develops from an organ and a bicycle's bell, through what must surely be the most mischievous oboe this side of Sixty-Four in the song's bridge, into a beautiful orchestral ending full of strings, woodwind, horns, and the odd explosive sound effect (but more on that later). In this same vein are Três Caravelas, Geléia Geral and Parque Industrial, each a superbly crafted slice of well-sung fun with a side of bright and bouncy brass.

Beyond the record's more whimsical tracks, Ou Panis et Circensis is far from being short of sweetness or sincerity - especially when the luxuriously smooth vocals of Nara Leão and Gal Costa are involved. For instance there is the orchestral beauty of Lindonéia, a traditional Caribbean song adapted by Veloso and performed with poise by Leão. Whilst I failed to find a translation of the lyrics, I could barely care less; Leão's voice is soft and welcoming no matter what she's saying, especially when she's accompanied perfectly by sumptuous strings and cheeky percussion. Similarly, Baby, written and performed by Veloso and Costa, is splendid and soft, a real downy duvet of a song. Rogerio Duprat's orchestral arrangements hold you close as the lyrics pour honey in your ear: "Você precisa/ tomar um sorvete/ na lanchonete/ andar com gente/ me ver de perto" ("You have/ to buy an ice cream/ at the cafeteria/ to come along with us,/ to see me closer"). It's luscious, it's charming, it's perfectly pretty - I'm not sure if a person can lust after a song, but if it's possible, I fancy the pants off of this one.

Whilst this is an album of eccentric tunes and orchestral-pop masterpieces, there is also a political undercurrent that runs from end to end which is hard even for a foreign-language listener to miss. The album's title is most likely a comment on the military coup of 1964, which left Brazilians under the undemocratic martial rule of leaders wishing to pacify their unhappy compatriots. Of course, there is evidence of civil angst in the music too; in the album's last track, Hino Do Senhor Do Bonfim (Hymn of the Lord of Bonfim), a traditional religious chant is adapted into an ironically joyous number with more than a hint of a military band about it. The album's final verse is undoubtedly a plea to reason: "Desta sagrada colina/ mansão da misericórdia/ dai-nos a graça divina/ da justiça e da concórdia" ("This sacred hill/ mansion of mercy/ Give us the grace/ justice and harmony"), before the singers turn their voices into sirens, heard over what sounds like bombs dropping (the foreboding noise is repeated from Miserere Nóbis). Throughout the album, the collective's lyrics vocally oppose the military rule over their beloved Brazil; indeed, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil, arguably the two key figures of tropicalia, were imprisoned soon after the record's release due to their provocative stage shows and the political content of their songs. As a non-Portuguese-speaking listener some of the politics will be missed, but the imaginative and thoroughly beautiful pop on offer in Ou Panis et Circensis is perfectly clear for anyone to understand.

For fans of: Pet Sounds, Sgt Pepper's, pop music that sounds like it was crafted rather than written.

If you like this, try: anything by any of Tropicalia's components; as they`re all pretty great, that`s Os Mutantes, Gilberto Gil, Caetano Veloso, Gal Costa, Tom Zé and Nara Leão.

This resource was uploaded by: Martin