Bossa Nova: The Story of the Brazilian Music That Seduced the World Read Online Free
Author: Ruy Castro
it.
It is hardly surprising that Mr. Juveniano should have directed all his efforts toward the education of his children, of which he had many. He already had Walter, from his first marriage, and with Dona Patu there came in rapid succession Dadainha, Vavá, Joãozinho, Dedé, Vivinha, and the baby of the family, Jovininho. Educating his many children was a challenging and expensive task. In Juazeiro in the 1940s, formal education ended at the elementary level, and for middle school on up, boys had to go to Salvador, or to Aracaju, which was closer. But Mr. Juveniano was successful in his endeavor, because by one means or another, he managed to ensure that each of his children received his or her high school diploma.That is, except for one, whom everybody said was the most intelligent: Joãozinho, of course.
From the time that he wore short pants, when he rode his bicycle through the Far West-style streets of Juazeiro, Joãozinho had already decided to follow a more challenging path: he would become João Gilberto.
His mother could not be blamed for considering him scatterbrained, because he would continually lose his schoolbooks, notebooks, and pens. One day, Joãozinho left home wearing a new pair of shoes and Dona Patu admonished him, half-seriously and half-joking, not to lose them. The street kids were playing a game of soccer in the square, and invited him to join in. Joãozinho took off his shoes to play, but, remembering what his mother had told him, buried them in the sand so as not to lose them. When the game was over, he went to look for them and couldn’t remember where he had buried them. He returned home barefoot and got the scolding of his life.
In 1942, when he was eleven years old, his father sent him to the Padre Antônio Vieira boarding school in Aracaju. Joãozinho was not an exceptional student: Latin and geometry were decidedly beyond him. He was much more interested in cheering for a local soccer team, Silvestre, and in forming vocal ensembles with his friends. At fourteen years of age, during one of his vacations in Juazeiro, a godfather who loved the nightlife gave him a guitar. It was just what he needed.
He learned to play the instrument using the Turuna Elementary Method common to those wandering folk, printed on cheap paper, because it was the first method of instruction he was able to lay his hands on. The Turuna did not turn him into Andrés Segovia, but it taught him enough chords to allow him to accompany himself and to try to harmonize with the breaking voices of his friends. Joãozinho’s voice was also changing, and much to his despair, the trombone-like timbre which he had begun to acquire sometimes wavered to that of a flute, without warning. But at fifteen, when he returned to Juazeiro—without the least intention of continuing his formal studies—his voice had already settled into that rich and well-rounded tenor with which he would toast the town with songs beneath the tamarind tree.
One of the rare trees in Juazeiro was a giant tamarind in Praça da Matriz. Tamarinds like dry soil, but that one must have loved it, because it grew to the point of being taller than any house in town. Its canopy gave a shade under which many generations placed chairs to sit and chat. When João Gilberto was a teenager, the tamarind tree was as important to life in Juazeiro as the town’s two social clubs, the 28 de Setembro (28th of September) andthe Sociedade Apolo Juazeirense (Juazeiro Apollo Society). Meetings were arranged beneath its shade, and at night, the most flirtatious couples bickered over space by its trunk. Deals were closed there, the idle discussed politics, and kids gathered to play the guitar.
Joãozinho, Waltinho, Pedrito, and Alberto were part of one of those guitar groups. The four of them sang and played, but the solos were often sung by Waltinho, whom many agreed had the best voice in the group. (Later, Pedrito and Alberto would go on to other things, but Waltinho
It is hardly surprising that Mr. Juveniano should have directed all his efforts toward the education of his children, of which he had many. He already had Walter, from his first marriage, and with Dona Patu there came in rapid succession Dadainha, Vavá, Joãozinho, Dedé, Vivinha, and the baby of the family, Jovininho. Educating his many children was a challenging and expensive task. In Juazeiro in the 1940s, formal education ended at the elementary level, and for middle school on up, boys had to go to Salvador, or to Aracaju, which was closer. But Mr. Juveniano was successful in his endeavor, because by one means or another, he managed to ensure that each of his children received his or her high school diploma.That is, except for one, whom everybody said was the most intelligent: Joãozinho, of course.
From the time that he wore short pants, when he rode his bicycle through the Far West-style streets of Juazeiro, Joãozinho had already decided to follow a more challenging path: he would become João Gilberto.
His mother could not be blamed for considering him scatterbrained, because he would continually lose his schoolbooks, notebooks, and pens. One day, Joãozinho left home wearing a new pair of shoes and Dona Patu admonished him, half-seriously and half-joking, not to lose them. The street kids were playing a game of soccer in the square, and invited him to join in. Joãozinho took off his shoes to play, but, remembering what his mother had told him, buried them in the sand so as not to lose them. When the game was over, he went to look for them and couldn’t remember where he had buried them. He returned home barefoot and got the scolding of his life.
In 1942, when he was eleven years old, his father sent him to the Padre Antônio Vieira boarding school in Aracaju. Joãozinho was not an exceptional student: Latin and geometry were decidedly beyond him. He was much more interested in cheering for a local soccer team, Silvestre, and in forming vocal ensembles with his friends. At fourteen years of age, during one of his vacations in Juazeiro, a godfather who loved the nightlife gave him a guitar. It was just what he needed.
He learned to play the instrument using the Turuna Elementary Method common to those wandering folk, printed on cheap paper, because it was the first method of instruction he was able to lay his hands on. The Turuna did not turn him into Andrés Segovia, but it taught him enough chords to allow him to accompany himself and to try to harmonize with the breaking voices of his friends. Joãozinho’s voice was also changing, and much to his despair, the trombone-like timbre which he had begun to acquire sometimes wavered to that of a flute, without warning. But at fifteen, when he returned to Juazeiro—without the least intention of continuing his formal studies—his voice had already settled into that rich and well-rounded tenor with which he would toast the town with songs beneath the tamarind tree.
One of the rare trees in Juazeiro was a giant tamarind in Praça da Matriz. Tamarinds like dry soil, but that one must have loved it, because it grew to the point of being taller than any house in town. Its canopy gave a shade under which many generations placed chairs to sit and chat. When João Gilberto was a teenager, the tamarind tree was as important to life in Juazeiro as the town’s two social clubs, the 28 de Setembro (28th of September) andthe Sociedade Apolo Juazeirense (Juazeiro Apollo Society). Meetings were arranged beneath its shade, and at night, the most flirtatious couples bickered over space by its trunk. Deals were closed there, the idle discussed politics, and kids gathered to play the guitar.
Joãozinho, Waltinho, Pedrito, and Alberto were part of one of those guitar groups. The four of them sang and played, but the solos were often sung by Waltinho, whom many agreed had the best voice in the group. (Later, Pedrito and Alberto would go on to other things, but Waltinho
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