My sister and I were in Downtown Seattle today, and we came across this capoeira, right on Westlake Plaza.
This took me back, of course; back to when I was playing with Manhattan Samba and I played caixa at a bautismo. It was crazy hot, I was telling my sister, and we were in this building that had been a church. It was bright but the air wasn’t moving, and the bautismo ceremony seemed endless; we played for hours on end.
“Hours?” my sister asked… Then she started asking things like “When do you take a break?” or “What if you get tired?”
Belly laugh! There are no breaks in samba! Once we started the rhythm, none of us, honestly, had any idea when we were going to get the high sign that ends the cycle, except that it would be hours. God help you if you were the only one covering your part.
Samba isn’t a performance; it’s just the ambient sound of the neighborhood. And the neighborhood’s not gonna stop needing sound just because your arms are getting sore. Keep playing!