JOGO DE MANDINGA GAME OF SORCERY HISTORY, TRADITION, AND BODILY PRACTICE IN CAPOEIRA ANGOLA: THE GAME-DANCE-FIGHT FROM BAHIA,

BRAZIL

A Thesis Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Master of Arts in the Graduate School of The Ohio State University

By Edward Luna Brough, B.A. *****

The Ohio State University 2006

Master's Examination Committee: Approved by Dr. Candace Feck, Chair Professor Melanie Bales, Adviser ___________________________ Dr. Sheila Marion, Resource Adviser Adviser Graduate Program in Dance

ABSTRACT

Capoeira is an ambiguous, ambivalent activity historically performed primarily by Africans and their creole descendants in Brazil. As just one of many expressions of what is now called Afro-Brazilian culture, capoeira embodies the diverse experiences of a community that has survived more than four centuries of oppression and adversity. Closely linked to the perverse human economy of slavery, as well as the ongoing economic marginalization of people of African descent today, capoeira shines a necessary light on a long, dark history of racism, economic exploitation, neglect, and contempt towards African culture. Capoeira is therefore relevant not only to Afro-Brazilian studies, but also to studies of African and creole culture throughout the Americas. In the 1800s, various local variations of capoeira, described in colonial records all over Brazil, were generally equated with disorder and criminal behavior. With the gradual establishment of the Brazilian state and rule of law, capoeira became an increasing threat to public order, paralleled by the rise of neighborhood youth gangs. By 1890, capoeira was prohibited nationwide and its practitioners, or capoeiras, were often severely punished. Only in the 1930s, with the support of the ultra-nationalist Vargas dictatorship, did the practice begin its upward climb from illegality to its eventual acceptance as an authentic expression of lower-class Brazilian culture.

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Under such diverse and evolving historical circumstances, capoeira has been performed as a subversive dance, an evasive form of self-defense, a strutting acrobatic display, an urban street fighting form, a semi-competitive game, a trick, a joke, and an idle pastime associated with street rogues and vagabonds. More recently, it has been transformed into a modern, multivalent art form, synthesizing many or all of these aspects for contemporary purposes. Lowly in its origins among slaves, and unsavory in its history, capoeira has become perhaps the most visible Brazilian cultural expression outside of Brazil, and arguably the most important Brazilian cultural export after the samba. Among the many contemporary iterations of capoeira, however, the oldest extant formcapoeira angola, from the Brazilian state of Bahiahas resisted the reflexive modernization and streamlined pedagogy that has turned capoeira into an international martial art or sport. Capoeira angola, despite some apparent modernizations, is still practiced as a secretive, streetwise form passed down semiformally from one practitioner to another in lines that can be traced directly to the early 1900s, and indirectly hundreds of years earlier. Capoeira angola is thus positioned by its practitioners as an authentic cultural tradition rooted in local history, communal memory, and Afro-Brazilian (or specifically, Afro-Bahian) identity. I will begin this study by situating myself within this tradition, as a student and apprentice teacher under Mestre (Master Teacher) Caboquinho of Bahia. I will then examine the growing field of capoeira studies by summarizing relevant works of the past and present. In Section 1, I will use these texts as a starting point to outline a history of capoeira, while also relying on my own initiation and training (under Mestre Caboquinho and others in Bahia) as well as indirect sources

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such as oral accounts, anecdotes, mythologies (personal, communal, or historical), and the echoes and parallels found in other African and African-American practices. In Section 2, I shall turn to examine key words such as tradition and folklore as viewed from the present-day practice of capoeira angola. In Section 3, I focus my attention upon the bodily practices of present-day capoeira angolaits pedagogy and physical performanceusing movement analysis and Labanotation to describe and document some of the fundamentals of the form from within. By weaving together objective research methods, subjective kinesthetic experience, informed speculation, observation, and notation to describe many of the more visible historical, philosophical, and physical aspects of capoeira angola, it is hoped that some of the deeper, more mysterious aspects of the gameaspects of mandinga (or sorcery) that have remained largely unspokenmay also become apparent.

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This work is dedicated to Edward Lionel Brough (18961976).

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This work owes its existence to those who kept the traditions of capoeira intact: all the mestres of capoeira who have come and gone, and those yet to come. Above all, I would like to thank Mestre Caboquinho (Jos Carlos Bispo Dantas) for allowing this research to be undertaken with his blessing, despite his distrust of anything written on paper. I would also like to thank Contra-Mestre Rapidinha (Roshani Dantas) for putting up with my long days of not understanding; Contra Mestre Biriba (Raquel Prymak) for her humor, patience, and her warm Miami welcome to me and my students; Dr. Candace Feck for her unearthly patience and her enthusiastic encouragement of my line of research; Dr. Sheila Marion for her affectionate contributions to my notation of capoeira sequences, and for her helpful stories about notating Karate katas; Professor Melanie Bales, for saying yes and supporting my investigation of movement analysis; Vera Maletic for her faith and encouragement. Among my colleagues, I owe thanks to Marc Woten for sharing his research on breaking and other styles of African-American urban dance (and for his constant support); George Payapilli for his kindness and for kicking my ass in every roda I've played with him; Salia Sanou & Seydou Borou (Salia n Seydou, Burkina Faso/France) for inspiring me with an African aesthetic that serves the past while speaking to the present; T.J. Desch-Obi for his work in Africa and for encouraging

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my analysis of capoeira movement; Joshua Lee Monten for introducing me to capoeira in the first place (and for offering me the opportunity to meet Mestre Acordeon); Marlon Barrios Solano for his helpful suggestions on improvisation. In Bahia, I owe thanks to Mestre Boca Rica (Manoel Silva) for his generosity and gentle presence; Mestre Neco (Manoel Marcelo dos Santos) for his indefatigable work on behalf of capoeira angola, and for welcoming me so readily into his universe; Mestre Bigodinho (Reinaldo Santana) for his music and laughter; Mestra Jararaca (Valdelice Santos de Jesus) and her husband Mestre Curi (Jaime Martnez dos Santos) for initiating me into their sorcery-filled roda; Taata NKese Mut (Jorge Barreto Santos, priest in the Mutalamb house of candombl de angola) for the good advice; Mauro S. (of Goinia, Brazil) for sharing his deeply personal perspectives and musical knowledge; Professora Ritinha for working me like a dog; Mestre Joo Pequeno (Joo Pereira dos Santos) for his recollections and loving presence; Mestre Z do Leno (Jos Alves) for his affection, support, and personal recollections. To Mestre Jogo de Dentro (Jorge Egdio dos Santos) I owe his thanks for supporting Mestre Caboquinho. I also owe a special thank you to Mestre Joo Grande (Joo Oliveira dos Santos) for his grace, humor, and warm welcome into his NYC house. Among my students, colleagues, and others, I would especially like to thank Christopher Farris (Bujinho) for his comments relating capoeira to his own African-American experiences; Dana Cox (Boca Linda) for her deeply personal insights and an unhinged game that taught me a great deal; Tom Stovicek for his thoughtful comments on parallel arguments within Tae Kwon Do; Clinton King and Eric Omohundro for explaining tai-chi exercises that helped me understand

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energy lines in capoeira angola in a much deeper way; Laura Davis (Avexada) for putting up with me; Christina Providence for her generosity; The Ohio State University Department of Dance for allowing me the time to do this right; Misty Kerns for her unwavering support; Susan Hadley, for throwing me into the teaching role I feel I was meant to play; Bebe Miller, for her affection and interest; Dr. Melanie White-Dixon for her support; Teena Custer for her parallel interest; John Scurry for helping me connect some of the dots; Brian Murphy for keeping it real; Luis Carbajal for his administrative help; Brian Griffin (Av) for his research suggestions, fortitude, and commitment to the group; to my Brazilian friends, Luciano Oliveira (Inspet), Paulo F. U. Gotardo (Capineiro), Nelson Carson (Ch Banana), and Melissa Quinalinha (Moa Dorada) for their encouragement, Portuguese correction, and support; Natalie Waters for her insights; Laura Tompkins for her perspective; Professor J. Ronald Green for, among many other things, turning me onto the filmmakers Ousmane Sembene and Oscar Micheaux (it all makes sense now); Ann Bremner for her editorial advice; Shawn Hove for teaching me how to embrace the dark side; Carol Robinson of the Center for Latin American Studies for just making things on this planet better for everyone; Stace Rierson and BalletMet for their support; Beatrice Ayi for her conversations; Sandra Mendes for the samba; Chad Hall, Jeff Fouch, and Scott Lowe for allowing me to do capoeira workshops in their classes. For special thanks, I must also single out: my father, Thomas Robert Brough, for his encouragement, support, and for giving me the space for me to become myself; my mother, Maria Teresa Luna (19391999) for blessing me with her passion and my Mexican heritage; Sonya Baales Brough, brother-in law Victor Baales,

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and nephews Aaron and Victor Eduardo for their help and affection; Mikey Thomas, for getting me started in the dance world; Robert Strati, for his art and loving advice. Most of all, to all my students past and present, I owe thanks for their energy and attention. I would also like to acknowledge Caetano Veloso for teaching me to sing in Portuguese. A final thanks to my cousin and friend, Francisco Fernndez Landero Luna, for pushing me out of the way of that car (the world works in mysterious ways, mi primo).

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VITA

23 Aug 1970....................................... Born Columbus, Ohio 1995................................................... B.A., Photography & Cinema, The Ohio State University 20002002 ........................................ Graduate Associate, Design Wexner Center for the Arts The Ohio State University 2002present...................................... Instructor, Dance Elective Program Capoeira Angola The Ohio State University 2002present...................................... Instructor/President Tribo Afro-Bahiana de Capoeira Angola Tradicional (T.A.B.C.A.T.), Columbus Student Organization, Ohio State

FIELDS OF STUDY

Major Field: Dance (Choreography, Improvisation, Labanotation) Other: Capoeira, Portuguese, African and African-American Studies, Brazilian Studies, Music, Theatre Performance

TABLE OF CONTENTS Page

Abstract............................................................................................................... ii Dedication........................................................................................................... v Acknowledgments............................................................................................... vi Vita..................................................................................................................... x Table of Contents................................................................................................ xi List of Illustrations.............................................................................................. xii Special Nomenclature.......................................................................................... xiii
INTRODUCTION

Now and then: continuity in capoeira angola.............................................. 2 Conditions and limitations of this work...................................................... 14 Early experiences......................................................................................... 16 Overview.....................................................................................................43 Early references to capoeira......................................................................... 44 Early twentieth century literature................................................................ 46 Rego: Capoeira Angola: ensaio scio-etnogrfico........................................ 49 Scholarly works of the 1970s...................................................................... 50 Growth of the field: practitioner accounts................................................... 52 New approaches.......................................................................................... 56 Assuno: Capoeira: The History of an Afro-Brazilian Martial Art............. 65

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Future pathways.......................................................................................... 67 Unanswered questions................................................................................. 70 Deliberate obscurity.................................................................................... 71 Limitations of history: assessing sources...................................................... 72 Informed speculation: a partial solution?.....................................................75 The importance of movement...................................................................... 76 Methodological considerations.................................................................... 78 Origins........................................................................................................ 87 Mestre Bimba and capoeira regional........................................................... 91 Capoeira angola and the return of Mestre Pastinha..................................... 93 The proliferation of capoeira regional......................................................... 94 The decline and appropriation of capoeira angola....................................... 97 The revival of capoeira angola..................................................................... 97
SECTION 1:HISTORY SECTION 2:TRADITION SECTION 3:BODILY PRACTICE

Glossary Bibliography

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xiii

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

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SPECIAL NOMENCLATURE

On the use of the term Mestre The Portuguese word Mestre is often translated to English as Master. M. Rohrig Assuno1 has helpfully recognized that this translation presents problems. In Portuguese, for example, a slave-owner is usually known as the Senhor (or colloquially, Sinh), which in English simply means Sir. The term mestre is better thought of in the sense of master craftsman. Thus, I will translate the term into English as Master teacher or simply teacher. In the text, however, I shall prioritize the Portuguese term mestre, to be used as follows: mestre or mestres (lower case, italics) will refer to the Portuguese word, or the general concept of a capoeira teacher. When referring to recognized capoeira teachers, I will use their full title (e.g. Mestre Caboquinho) whenever possible. It is considered disrespectful to omit this title, so I shall refrain from referring to my own teacher as simply Caboquinho.2 In context, I will also often refer to him as the Mestre (or occasionally just Mestre).

1. Matthias Rhrig Assuno, Capoeira: A History of an Afro-Brazilian Martial Art (New York, NY: Routledge, 2005) 194. 2. Outside of capoeira circles, those who know Mestre Caboquinho well often do refer to him as Caboquinho, Caboclo, or even Cabo.

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 When repeating the term frequently in a short span of the text, I shall abbreviate Mestre to M: as in, M Caboquinho, M Z do Leno, M Pastinha, and so on.

On the use of the term capoeira vs. capoeira angola I have chosen to use capoeira (no quotes or italics) as the unmarked, generalized term for the form, to indicate that it has begun to enter general usage in English. I shall likewise use capoeira to discuss the practice generally, or when discussing older iterations of the form prior to the 1900s. The term capoeira (italics), will refer to a practitioner of the form before the 1900s, and before the widespread use of the term capoeirista. Meanwhile, I shall write capoeira angola (lowercase, italics), to indicate that it is a specialized form of the general practice of capoeira. Similarly, it will stay in italics throughout this text, in order to distinguish it from capoeira as a general concept. I have also chosen to keep capoeira angola in lower case, as is common in some writings on social dance/music forms, e.g. samba, salsa, merengue, and so on.3 Here, I must also note that some teachers prefer to write Capoeira Angola (capitalized). Mestre Caboquinho and others also use the word capoeira to indicate the unmarked, older practice of the form before the stylistic splits of the 1930s (i.e., the original capoeira angola). I shall avoid this usage unless it is purposeful.

3. I am aware that if I were to follow this logic, capoeira should also remain italicized. However, I want to preserve the distinction between todays generalized capoeira with the older use of capoeira as a practitioner of the form.

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Other notes Specialized words and usages will be introduced in the body of the text. Non-English words (capoeira angola, samba, mestre, et. al.) will always be italicized. Readers interested in proper pronunciation will find many of these words in the Glossary at the end of this work. I will usually defer to the Portuguese in this text, supplying English translations in parentheses or footnotes where appropriate. Translations are mine unless otherwise noted. Instead of italics, I shall use underlines (sparingly) to provide emphasis.

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INTRODUCTION

Fig. 1 / T.A.B.C.A.T. roda in progress, 2004 Mestre Caboquinho (in white hat) (Photo by author)

Mestre Caboquinho (b. Jos Carlos Bispo Dantas, 1963) is a Bahian capoeirista and master teacher who has spent over thirty years learning, performing, and teaching the art of his native land, capoeira angola. After a lifetime in Bahias old capital city, Salvadoralso known as Bahiathe Mestre moved to the United States in 1993, where he spent seven years in Miami until a more recent to Detroit, MI, in the year 2000. At first, the Motor City may seem an unlikely place to establish an AfroBahian art form from south of the equator. But like Salvador, Detroit is a place that

has seen a great deal, and gone through long periods of neglect. Both are also cities where African magic is still very much at work. As such, the Mestre is compelled to preserve the authentic Bahian character of his roda de capoeira angola, even thousands of miles from its spiritual home. This is underlined by the very name of his organization: the Tribo Afro-Bahiana de Capoeira Angola Tradicional,4 or T.A.B.C.A.T., which was established in 1959 by another Bahian capoeirista, Mestre Joo Bodeiro. This thesis will examine how Mestre Caboquinho prepares his students to train, play, and understand capoeira angola. It will also examine why it is so important for his students to also live up to the responsibility of conserving and keeping the traditions of capoeira angola.5

Now and then: continuity in capoeira angola To begin this undertaking, I will now provide a composite description6 of the first five to ten minutes of a typical capoeira angola performance, called a roda (wheel or circle), conducted at the academy of Mestre Caboquinho: Eight musicians sit side by side on a long wooden bench with their backs to the wall. At one end, a musician sits behind a conga-like barrel drum known as the atabaque, followed by another musician who grasps a double bell called the agog, and a third musician who braces a bamboo scratcher called a reco-reco under the armpit. The next two musicians hold pandeiros, or Brazilian tambourines, followed by three final musicians, each of whom holds a long, one-stringed musical bow called the berimbau. The last and

4. Translated as The Afro-Bahian Tribe of Traditional Capoeira Angola. 5. From <www.tabcat.org>, 2006. 6. Taken largely from my experience attending, performing, or hosting dozens of such events, primarily in Bahia, at Mestre Caboquinhos center in Detroit, and my own base in Columbus, Ohio.

largest of these berimbaus is held by the leader of the proceedings: Mestre (Teacher) Caboquinho. A half-circle of performers and sits in front of the musicians, completing the arena of capoeira, or roda. Behind them, an audience sits or stands, waiting expectantly. Mestre Caboquinho gathers himself and calls attention by tapping the berimbau's large gourd with a thin, hand-held stick. When the crowd settles, he plays a slow, deliberate rhythm, dragging out the two notes of his instrument before settling into a recognizable pattern that is soon joined by the other two berimbaus. Once their pattern is also clear, the two pandeiros join with a simple hit-slap-hit that complements the other rhythms. The Mestre, satisfied with this five-instrument opening, gives a long cry of I! that fills the air. He starts to sing a ladainha, or an incantory song that may be story, warning, or lament. This time, it is an ironic story: A mulher pra ser bonita, no precisa se pintar O homem pra ser valente, no precisa matar A fora que a mulher tem O homem nunca mantm Com a fora de parir E lavai vintm O homem dedo cortado Ele diz no vou trabalhar, camar (A woman, to be pretty, need not paint herself A man, to be brave, need not be a killer The strength that a woman has A man can not maintain With the strength to give birth And to raise the coins A man with a cut on his finger Will say, I cant work, my friend) The Mestres ladainha ends with the call of camaradinha (or my little friend), after which he begins a series of shorter cries, called chulas, in the following form: I, viva meu Deus! (Yea, long live my Lord!) The last three musicians come in, and all the remaining players answer the chulas with a resounding chorus, adding camar (my friend):

I, viva meu Deus, camar! (Yea, long live my Lord, my friend!) MESTRE: I viva meu Mestre (Yea, long live my teacher!) CHORUS: I, viva meu Mestre, camar (Yea, long live my teacher, my friend!) MESTRE: I, quem me ensinou (Yea, the one who taught me!) CHORUS: I, quem me ensinou, camar (Yea, the one who taught me, my friend!) MESTRE: I, a vadiar (Yea, to hang out) CHORUS: I, a vadiar, camar (Yea, to hang out, my friend) MESTRE: I, de angola (Yea, like angola) CHORUS: I, de angola, camar (Yea, like angola, my friend!) MESTRE: I, chegou a hora (Yea, the time has arrived) CHORUS: I, chegou a hora, camar (Yea, the time has arrived, my friend!) Only now can the games begin. The Mestre lowers the berimbau to point to two players who are sitting expectantly around the perimeter of the circle. The first player is a smallish woman whose capoeira nickname is Boca Limpa (Clean Mouth), from her habit of using palavres, or bad words. The second is a brown-skinned man known as Bruto, whose capoeira nickname comes from the Portuguese-language version of Popeyes arch-enemy Bluto, who he is said to resemble.7 After being called, they both carefully get up and follow a counterclockwise circle, gesturing to the observers and musicians as if thanking them. They settle into a deep squat facing each other at the foot of the Mestre's berimbau. The Mestre then begins a corrido song to set the tone: Ave Maria meu Deus Nunca vi casa nova cair
7. The names of both of these players have been slightly altered for this account.

CHORUS:

Nunca vi o menino cair Nunca vi a menina cair (Hail Mary, my Lord Ive never seen a new house fall Ive never seen a little boy fall Ive never seen a little girl fall) The Mestre then lowers the instrument between them, indicating that they may begin. With this signal, the players shake hands and then raise their hands to the air, as if calling to a higher power. They then place their hands on the ground and rise together to perform a short handstand, before dropping down to a deep lunging position. With the Mestres song continuing all the while, the players finally creep into the circle together to begin playing capoeira. The game begins tentatively and deliberately, with each attack acting as a kind of question calling for a specific defensive answer. They take turns crouching, bending, and stretching their bodies in a series of attacks, feints, dodges, cartwheels, and occasional backbends. Only the feet, hands, and head touch the ground. Eventually, the movements become faster and trickier, giving the appearance of a real fight. Yet there is little contact between the players, who skillfully sidestep or crouch under each other's attacks. Attacks are performed primarily with the legs, extending from standing or inverted positions. The hands are rarely used offensively. Instead, they sculpt loose patterns in the air, supporting the movements of the legs and often distracting the other player. One unlikely weapon is the headbutt, used very selectively. After Boca Limpa applies a particularly effective headbutt to Brutos midsection, the Mestre begins to sing a song that obliquely references this movement: Quebro coco sinh quebro cco iai! (Im breaking coconuts, my lady Im breaking coconuts, my child!) The game continues to get hotter and more confrontational. Boca Limpa, perhaps overconfident about her well-placed headbutt, tries to recklessly trip Bruto, threatening to disrupt the energy of the game. Bruto shakes his head disapprovingly and calls for a volta do mundo (circle around the world), indicated by drawing a circle in the air with his finger. Both players

then begin to walk or jog in a counter-clockwise circle opposite each other, to relax and restart the game. After a revolution or two, they return to the foot of the Mestres berimbau and start anew. The Mestre begins another song to help calm things down: Devagar com essa menina, devagar com esse menino Capoeira de angola, todos somos miudinhos (Play slowly with that girl, play slowly with that boy In capoeira angola, we are all just children) After another series of question-and-answer movements, it is Brutos turn to accidentally lose his control, showing a powerful kick and nearly striking Boca Limpa in the face. Realizing that his attack might arouse Boca Limpas temper, Bruto brings his leg down immediately, and then raises his hands in an apparent gesture of apology to her. This movement is known as a chamada, or the calling. In response, Boca Limpa returns to the foot of the berimbau to check in, while smiling and pointing to Bruto, as if to jokingly say, are you sure you want to do that? Boca Limpa then shows an acrobatic movement at a safe distance from him, before finally approaching Bruto carefully, and meeting palms with him. Bruto then leads the first in a kind of partnered, three-step waltz that ends only when he gestures to Boca Limpa and invites her to perform a cartwheel before him. At the end of her cartwheel, however, he appears to suddenly pull out a knife and slash her throat. Of course, the knife is just his outstretched hand, but it is an appropriate revenge for the earlier head butt, eliciting gasps of laughter from the viewers. Taking her humiliation in good humor, Boca Limpa then grasps at her slit throat and proceeds to sew it back together, bringing more laughter from the audience. The Mestre, carefully observing this theatre out of the corner of his eye, signals the end of this game with his berimbau. The two players agree to call it a draw and return to the foot of the berimbau, shaking hands and embracing in reassured camaraderie. After this acknowledgment, and the trading off of a few musicians, the Mestre then points to the next two players In capoeira angola, a roda like this one may continue on for as long as four to five hours. Individual games may take anywhere from three to ten minutes each. At the end, it is customary for the Mestre to begin a final song called Adeus, adeus

(Good-bye, good-bye), after which all the players begin to walk in a processional circle. During this procession, any player may buy into the game to show off their best acrobatic movements or to even an old score. At the close of this procession, the capoeira roda becomes a celebratory samba-de-roda (Samba-in-acircle), during which the entire audience is invited to dance the samba, clap, and sing with the group. Mestre Caboquinho describes capoeira angola primarily as an art form developed in Brazil some 500 years ago by slaves who had to disguise a fight in dance. However, he is quick to distance capoeira from the fighting applications of a martial art, instead emphasizing it as a game of harmony and education through which aggression is hidden and contained, rehearsing between two people to become free.8 Laughter and the use of theatre are thus crucial to a deeper understanding of capoeira. Mestre Caboquinho also sees the songs of capoeira as a kind of schedule, sung in a strict sequence that is only followed by those who consider themselves followers of the traditional style of capoeira angola. Meanwhile, the rituals and gestures of the game, often appearing to echo African and Afro-Brazilian spiritual practices, should not be thought of primarily as religious, but more as practical rules for managing ones own energies and preventing accidents in the game. In short, these are what constitute the traditions of capoeira angola, which the Mestre has devoted his life to preserving and passing on. These traditions were taught to him by his own father, Jos Vicente Dantas (b. c. 1925), and other teach-

8. Taken from <www.tabcat.org>, 2006.

ers in Bahia.9 The Mestre's father, in turn, was a student of Mestre Joo Bodeiro of Serrinha, Bahia, Brazil, who was himself a student of an African named Non, reportedly from Mozambique.10 Thus charting his own lineage to the early 1900s (and perhaps earlier), Mestre Caboquinho presents himself as part of a continuity of capoeira practitioners that is thought to extend to the beginnings of the form in sixteenth century Bahia. Yet according to the Mestre, those who do not follow these traditions in this manner, including a number of capoeira angola practitioners, have broken with this continuity. The Mestre frames this with deadly seriousness, suggesting that when you break one thing [or one aspect of the tradition], you break everything.11 This thesis thus begins with the so-called fundamentals of capoeira angola, as taught to me by Mestre Caboquinho. Having described a roda under his watchful eye, and having introduced the basic philosophies of capoeira angola in a manner that is respectful to the Mestres teachings, the remainder of this thesis shall attempt to further define, examine, and explain the context of these teachings, while corroborating the Mestres assertions with those of the written record and other sources, while also framing capoeira angola as a kind of movement tradition that owes a great deal to its communal context. In doing so, I hope to present a work of scholarly value that nevertheless holds true to the game as I have learned it.
9. According to Mestre Caboquinho, he has had three other mestres: M Yoy (son of a policeman), M Alfonsinho, and M Curi. 10. See <http://www.tabcatcolumbus.org/aboutmestrecaboquinho.html>. 11. Mestre Caboquinho, various class lectures, 20022006. I shall explain the nature of my use of the Mestres informal lectures as the need arises.

I shall begin by providing evidence to substantiate the Mestres assertion that capoeira angola has remained largely the same for many yearsat least one hundred years, or as many as 300500 years. This assertion, which is usually qualified as mythical or simply rejected by most reputable historians,12 gets to the heart of the issues surrounding capoeira history, and will help illuminate the central themes of this work.

Fig. 2 / The barrao (hut) of Mestre Waldemar, c. 1940s50s Liberdade neighborhood of Salvador, Bahia (Photo from archive of Fred Abreu)

The following description is of another capoeira roda, written by the pioneering anthropologist Ruth Landes. Landes, who visited Salvador in 193738, witnessed this roda with her colleague, the Bahian historian Edison Carneiro. I will
12. See the review of literature for a broader perspective on this.

quote her lengthy description in its entirety, and will try to respect the authors original typography. We had arrived at the spot where the men were forming for capoeira. Watchers were crowded four deep around a wide circle, and there was not a woman or a priest among them. To one side of the innermost ring stood three tall Negroes, each holding a berimbau with one end resting on the ground. Two more musicians soon came--one with a chocalho, or metal rattle, and the other with a pandeiro, or tambourine. Edison and the others helped me push front, and we were glad of the diversion. Two capoeirists were squatting there facing the musicians. One was the champion Beloved of God, with the Christian name of Samuel. He was tall, black, middle-aged and muscular, a fisherman by trade. His challenger was The Black Leopard, a younger man, shorter and fatter. They were barefooted, wearing striped cotton jersey shirts, one with white trousers, the other with dark, one with a felt hat, the other with a cap which he later changed to a hard straw hat. Squatting in their hats and bare feet, one had his left arm on his left thigh, the other had his right arm on his right thigh, and they stared straight ahead, resting. It was required of them to keep silent, and the requirement carried over to the audience. The orchestra opened the events by strumming an invocation, and this monotonous accompaniment too was essential to the occasion. It was a sort of whining nasal-toned framework within which the men executed acrobatic marvels, always to the correct beat, while the musicians chanted mocking verses: I stood at the foot of the cross Saying my prayer When there arrived Catherine, The very image of the Devil. Eh, eh, Ah-Ruanda! Missy, let's go away! To beyond the sea! It's a sharp knife, Missy, It's for piercing. Missy, throw it to this side, Missy, throw it to that side.

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Eh, eh, long live my master And my mistress, who taught me! Master, leave me to the vagrant life! Missy, to the capoeira life! Missy, may the earth revolve! Master, may the world go on! * (* This song and those following, to p. 109, translated from the Portuguese of Edison Carneiro, Negros Bantus, pp. 149-153, 155, 158, 133, 138-140.) It was a song of challenge and hope and resignation, containing fragments of rebellious thoughts. It did not possess a simple theme well worked out, but it summarized a type of life and of protest. And it opened the fight. Beloved of God swayed on his haunches while he faced his opponent with a grin and gauged his chances. The fight involved all parts of the body except the hands, a precaution demanded by the police to obviate harm. As the movements followed the musical accompaniment, they flowed into a slow-motion, dreamlike sequence that was more a dancing than a wrestling. As the law stipulated that capoeirists must not hurt each other, blows become acrobatic stances whose balancing scored in the final check-up, and were named and classified. Various types of capoeira had evolved, with subtleties in the forms and sequences of the blows and in the styles of playing the berimbau. Beloved was prodigiously agile in the difficult formal encounters with his adversary, and he smiled constantly while the ritual songs droned on: They told my wife That a capoeira man had conquered me. The woman swore, and stamped her foot down firm That this could not have been. And the berimbaus changed again: There was I. Oh! There was my brother, There was my brother and I. My brother rented a house But neither he paid, nor I! Impertinently, with slow, calculated, beautiful movements, Beloved butted his adversary with his hatted head, catching him lightly in the pit of the stomach, upsetting him so that he fell on his head. Thereupon the orchestra struck up triumphantly:

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Zum-Zum-Zum, Capoeira kills one! The cutting knife is bad, Prepare your stomach to catch it! The challenging echoes silenced, the round over, the two men walked and trotted restfully in a counter-clockwise circle one behind the other, the champion leading with his arms high in the air, and the other grasping his wrists from behind while the orchestra played and sang teasingly: In the days when I had money My comrade called me 'kin.' After my money was gone My comrade scorned me as 'bold.' Gradually, having rested, the one in front wheeled to face the one behind, and they parried to the beat of the songs, never still, balancing from one foot to the other, watching for openings. Comrade, attention! Capoeira goes at you! warned the berimbaus. The two faced each other, Beloved swaying, Leopard backing away, always rhythmically. As Beloved advanced bending from the waist, lowering his head for the telling blow at the other's middle, Leopard curved forward intending to evade him. Actually he created an opening into which Beloved charged with his right leg, his left one stretched parallel with the ground to support him. Leopard's arms swung back loosely, and he fell forward over the butting head in a clean arc. Laughing quietly in appreciation, the two rose, loping in circles to relax while the orchestra applauded: Lo, he is a messenger of the king! He is from Ruanda! What can one do with a capoeira? He is an African sorcerer* *Mandingo And knows how to play. They sparred again, and again Beloved was the one to attack, half squatting as in a Russian dance, swaying, arms curved forward for balance. Instead of following through with his head as before, he worked to one side and suddenly raised up his body. Leopard bent to charge, but Beloved swung his weight to his right leg and cleared his opponent's head with his left, causing him once more to fall sprawling!

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Now another insisted upon entering the ring. He had attempted to do so earlier but had been ignored. Impatiently he pushed Leopard aside, pointing indignantly to the corner where scorekeepers were chalking the points on the ground, points Leopard had failed to make. And sulkily Leopard yielded his place. The hero Beloved wiped his streaming face and back, and bared his head to cool it. Through everything the onlookers remained silent, only shuffling to ease their positions and inner excitement. Soon the bows whined an invocation for the new round...13 I have quoted Landes lengthy description in its entirety to illustrate that a roda performed in Bahia for the benefit of an anthropologist nearly seventy years ago is nearly the same as my own experience of a capoeira roda in twenty-first century Detroit. If the influence of Landes account on my own description seems circumspect, it is only because her work so elegantly captures the spirit of the form as I have already learned it from Mestre Caboquinho, and as I have seen it performed in Bahia today. These rodas of different periods both appear to closely follow each other in terms of their specific rituals, movements, and the music of the game. Indeed, many of the songs cited by Landes (apparently transcribed by Carneiro) are virtually the same as those sung in traditional rodas today. Of course, there are important differences between the two time periods (as I shall discuss later), and great care must be taken not to make unsound generalizations from this comparison of a mere two texts.

13 Ruth Landes, The City of Women [orig. pub. 1947] edited with introduction by Sally Cole. (Albuquerque: U of New Mexico P, 1994). 102105.

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Nevertheless, with the helpful eyes and ears of Carneiro at her disposal,14 Landes description does provide us with some evidence that Mestre Caboquinho is not merely exaggerating or inventing his claims about the longevity of capoeira angola and its traditions. This not only reinforces the reality of the Mestres teachings and philosophy, but it has also facilitated my personal path of training and playing capoeira. Linking history to my own training in this manner has also helped me unlock some of the keys to a form that has hidden itself deliberately for decades, perhaps centuries. It has also hinted to me that in the end, capoeira does not answer primarily to the needs of objective history, but rather only to its own needs, played in the present.

Conditions and limitations of this work To be sure, the very personal nature of this work requires explanation and qualification. I have thus found it most useful to frame this thesis as a reflexive or personal ethnography15 documenting my experiences as a student and apprentice teacher under Mestre Caboquinho. As such, it is not primarily meant to be read as an academic tract written by a trained historian, anthropologist, dance teacher, or movement analyst. Nor is it the account of an African-American, a Brazilian, or even a fluent speaker of Portuguese. While I have based much of this work on empirical research in these ar-

14. It is perhaps worth noting that Carneiro was also Landes lover during her time in Bahia. 15. For more on reexive ethnography, see Charlotte Aull Davies, Reexive Ethnography: A Guide to Researching Selves and Others: ASA Research Methods in Social Anthropology (London/New York: Routledge, 2002).

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easfamiliarizing myself with various historical and anthropological approaches, the Laban system of movement notation, terms and concepts of movement analysis, and the Portuguese language itself16 the most fruitful research has undoubtedly been my own training, playing, and listening to the game. As such, a great deal of this thesis rests on my own personal path in capoeira angola itself. This does present some methodological challenges: namely, it may be too subjective, and therefore of questionable value to the field of capoeira studies, and even less valuable to other likely fields of interest, such as African and Latin American studies, martial arts, and social dance. My admitted lack of training in some of these areas might therefore lead to problems that I cannot even foresee. However, this is meant to be a preliminary work, so I will only address the limitations of this work as the need arises. In this regard, I hope to adequately convey the importance of giving myself over to the logic of a traditional form such as capoeira angola, where the faith I have placed in my teacher has allowed me to access a few of the hidden truths of the form. Nevertheless, I still believe it is necessary for me to account for my own experience and training, which will, I hope, say something about my qualifications to write this thesis from within the tradition of capoeira angola.

16. My level of prociency in Portuguese might best be characterized as almost uent.

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THE PATH OF TRAINING

Early experiences One of my earliest glimpses of capoeira was in the late 1990s, through a 3-D fighting game Tekken 3.17 One memorable character named Tiger Jackson wore 70s clothing and fought with strange, inverted movements that appeared to come from breakdancing. I later learned that Tiger was an alternate African-American disco version of the more famous Brazilian character Eddy Gordo, both of whom had been created from digital motion captures of capoeira. In the year 2000, I began a Masters program in dance. There, I took advantage of an introductory one-day workshop on capoeira that was offered by a fellow graduate student. The same student later taught a ten-week elective dance class in capoeira, which I also took eagerly. At the end of the ten-week class, the instructor co-hosted a workshop with the esteemed Mestre Acordeon, offering me my first opportunity to interact with an authentic capoeirista from Brazil. Looking back, I am thankful for having been introduced to capoeira, but the class did plant certain contemporary notions about capoeira that took a long time to dispel. For example, if one were accidentally struck in the game, it was emphasized that it was ones own fault for failing to defend. I was also taught that the mysterious capoeira angola was the low, and slow style of capoeira, an assertion that I have heard over and over ever since. There were also pedagogical questions, given that the class consisted of a beginner teaching other beginners, without a sanctioned mestre, teaching in the context of modern dance, isolated from tradition, with little time for music or culture. At the end of the term, instead of pre-

17. From Tekken 3, Namco, 1997.

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senting a customary capoeira roda, the teacher even created a capoeiresque stage piece for the students to perform. Nevertheless, I became more interested in the form, and began pursuing it on my own time. In the summer of 2001, I had the opportunity to visit various capoeira academies, including Mestre Acordeons studio in Berkeley, a branch of the famous Grupo Abad in San Francisco, and Capoeira Longe do Mar in Mexico City. At these academies, I experienced a style of capoeira that was similar to what I already knew, emphasizing strength, calisthenic training, full-body movement, and aspects of competition, suggested by students clear designations of rank. Brazilian culture, if mentioned at all, was more like a backdrop to the practice. I also noted that a large number of people in each group trained in other fighting practices, suggesting that this style of capoeira lent itself easily to the mentality of martial arts. All of this represents the typical ambience of what I will call contemporary capoeira.18 Inspired by these visits, I decided to establish an informal capoeira training group at Ohio State in the fall of 2001. I was joined by members of the elective capoeira class, as well as a few break dancers, martial artists, and aficionados of Brazilian culture. I soon began to informally lead the group, in part because of my age and predisposition to leadership. I secured a space within the university, organized

18. I have deliberately chosen to use quotes when referring to contemporary capoeira, which is the modernized, stylized, hybridized, and generalized form of capoeira. In part, this is because I am not convinced that the practitioners of this style have all agreed to be identied by that word, or its Portuguese counterpart, capoeira contempornea. In my experience, many of these academies in fact prefer to simply say they play capoeira, a supposedly unmarked, unied, and uncontradictory term. But in using quotes, I am also selfconsciously critiquing modernized capoeira, and echoing M Caboquinhos extremely pessimistic characterization of the form as being aggressive, incomplete, exaggerated, and disrespectful of the history of Bahia, as I shall note.

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classroom exercises, and began to offer suggestions/corrections based on my experiences at the other schools.

Enter capoeira angola In December of 2001, I visited the capoeira angola center of Mestre Joo Grande in New York City. At his academy, I was confronted with a whole new philosophy and style of movement that contradicted much of what I had already learned. Capoeira angola appeared very far away from a martial art, and seemed instead to be more of a ritualized, ambivalent, and very African-influenced game. Although I initially returned home to Ohio confused about how to reconcile between these two approaches to capoeira, I instinctively began to apply my nave interpretation of M Joo Grandes pedagogy to the student group, in order to steer it in the direction of capoeira angola.

In the summer and fall of 2002, I visited the International Capoeira Angola

Federation (ICAF or FICA) center in Washington, D.C., where I met Mestre Cobrinha Mansa, perhaps the second most respected teacher of capoeira angola in North America after M Joo Grande. While there, I pored through FICAs voluminous library of videos and documentation, and saw a poster that depicted the various family trees of capoeira angola teachers. I also returned to New York City and spent nearly a week studying at M Joo Grandes academy, under the supervision of his longtime student Mario Pereira (the Mestre himself was in Bahia at the time). I also finally bought my first berimbau there, and awkwardly began to learn how to play it.

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Around this time, I also had a personal breakthrough in my physical understanding of the form. After over a year, the mobile stance of capoeira, called the ginga (or sway) finally began to make sense to me. By softening my body and swaying the ginga back and forth indecisively, I began to understand the ambivalent, ironic attitude of the angoleiro. I still visited contemporary capoeira schools and occasionally trained in the movements of that form, but with this personal breakthrough, I knew that I would eventually follow capoeira angola. This led to the beginning of tensions within the student group, between those who wanted to follow my path into capoeira angola, and those who did not want to become formally affiliated to any style. This tension would only increase after I met and began training with Mestre Caboquinho.

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Enter Mestre Caboquinho

Fig. 3 / Mestre Caboquinho (white hat) with students Wayne State University, 2003 (Photo from collection of author)

In the summer of 2002, I visited Wayne State University in Detroit (see Fig. 3), where Mestre Caboquinho was conducting classes in a small second-floor dance studio. I recognized the movements and the style of play as capoeira angola, but somehow it was distinctly different. The Mestres teaching style was very informal, yet also very secretive. In this, I sensed that the Mestre was not only hoping to keep these secrets to himself, but to pass them on to the right students. I thus began to travel there more frequently, thankful that the drive from Columbus to Detroit was only 200 miles, versus the nearly 600 miles to New York. The Mestre also seemed unafraid to discuss philosophy, and often took the misconceptions of modern capoeira head on. In long, impenetrable lectures, the Mestre railed against those who failed to understand or give respect to capoeira

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angola. Entranced by these talks, his ambivalent teaching style, the serious environment of his class, and his deeply ironic sense of humor, I soon decided that he would be my mestre.

Early difficulties However, my decision to focus my training under Mestre Caboquinho was not universally applauded by the members of the Ohio State student organization. As I continued training under the Mestre on my own, bringing back many of his teachings and philosophies to our group, and organizing a workshop with him in Columbus in December, some of the students began to question whether the groups emphasis on only one style of capoeiranot to mention the Mestres pessimistic view on contemporary capoeirawas becoming an obstacle to their training. Although the group was destined to become an official T.A.B.C.A.T. group by the end of the following year, at these earlier stages I deferred to the groups wishes, and did not attempt to affiliate the group with T.A.B.C.A.T. At that time, I believed it was very presumptuous for me to take over a capoeira group with my meager level of trainingeven though I was, in effect, its only teacher. I also did not want to assert control over what had begun as a communal group even though I was, in effect, its only leader. In retrospect, failing to recognize this dissonance was perhaps my biggest mistake during the earlier part of my training. Throughout this period, Mestre Caboquinho spent a great deal of time correcting my mistakes and explaining how I to do the right thing. Before his arrival in Columbus for the December 2002 workshop, for example, I warned the Mestre that I was teaching my students 80% capoeira angola and 20% capoeira regional.

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Although I had merely intended this comment to provide the Mestre with a statistical picture of what I was actually teaching my students, he was greatly offended by my comparison. He insisted that it does not make sense to divide capoeira in that wayone can only be 100% angoleiro. I did not understand the Mestres point at the time, but as I shall discuss in Section 2, this kind of error often comes from assuming that capoeira angola is merely a style or sub-category of capoeira, rather than a complete package unto itself, as the Mestre would assert. Moreover, it also comes from a misreading of history, in which the two Bahian forms of capoeira were split for very specific reasons. By 2003, I had endured months of constant brow-beatings from the Mestre 45-minute lectures in front of his students, exhorting me to really follow a mestre (any mestre); to secure my group in whatever way possible; to be wary of the destructive effects of modernized capoeira on capoeira angola. Throughout, I continued to assure him that I was his student, that I was spending what little I had on coming to train in Detroit, but none of my answers or supposed personal sacrifices appeared to satisfy him. It did not help that he spoke in a hybrid of English and Portuguese speech colored by ambivalent metaphors that were difficult to transmit into English. Given such difficulties, I did not understand that in clamoring for me to assert control over the Columbus group, he did not really expect me to be a mestre, he just wanted me to start thinking like a mestre, following in someones footsteps, and demonstrating to my students that I was their leader.

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The big mistake In this regard, my biggest mistake was allowing a practitioner of contemporary capoeira to conduct a workshop inside my house in the summer of 2003. I originally permitted the workshop in order to appease the groups desire to explore other styles of capoeira. In retrospect, however, this workshopand the events that proceeded from itundermined much of what the Mestre had been preparing me to do. The workshop in question was taught by by a capoeira professor from the south of Brazil who was my age and had recently moved to Central Ohio from California. The professor first arrived by observing a class respectfully. He later seemed to agree that my job controlling this very diverse group of students was a difficult one. With his humble entrance, I hoped this authentic capoeirista might help me convey the reality of capoeira to my students. Later, as a guest in several of our rodas, he played spectacular games with everyone, exhibiting a great deal of charm and humor in his game. He even appeared to understand the deeper rituals, including the chamadas (one of which is described in my opening account), which are often misunderstood by practitioners of modernized capoeira. At times, however, he used his hands in very aggressive ways (once dragging a female student on the floor by her hair), and eventually, he began to show bigger acrobatic movements that did not make sense with Mestre Caboquinhos teachings. While some welcomed these exciting new movements, others began to worry whether this professor might jeopardize our relationship with Mestre Caboquinho.

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In his workshop, the professor crossed the line by teaching a number of jujitsustyle takedowns that bruised several students badly. Indeed, Mestre Caboquinho had often warned me that I, as a non-Brazilian who was still very new to capoeira, would be very vulnerable to anyone who arrived in my space claiming to do both styles of capoeira, while hiding their martial arts mentality and the modernist rhetoric of contemporary capoeira. To be sure, this is exactly what happened. Moreover, the professor himself turned out to be less than forthcoming. Unlike other angoleiros I had met by then (and have met since), the professor rarely discussed his own mestre, even when asked. He said almost nothing about the capoeira organization he represented. I was also unable to find any information about him online. Throughout that summer, the professor had also been at the center of a few unsavory incidents between students after class. While it may not be appropriate or relevant to comment on the professors personal behavior in this study, I believe it is worth noting that after humbly apologizing to me for his behavior at first, he later justified all of his questionable actions by claiming that a capoeirista must always have surprises. At our last collaboration in 2004, he showed his colors one last time, by claiming indignantly that he was 80% angoleiro! After having been so thoroughly chastized by Mestre Caboquionho on the very same point (and percentage!), it was hard for me to suppress a knowing laugh. Of course, not all practitioners of contemporary capoeira use their art as an excuse for self-gratification and malandragem (roguery). But regardless of anyones good or bad intentions, I have found that the Mestres warnings about the negative effects of contemporary capoeira on capoeira angola are in fact real.

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This has been proven to me time and again, in ways that will underlie many of the assertions of this thesis. Unfortunately, in this case, I failed to grasp the urgency of the Mestres suggestions to secure my group from these dangers. I had been distracted by my decision that summer to focus my graduate research entirely on capoeira, and had not been to Detroit. Instead, I took another trip to New York to visit M Joo Grande and the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in June of 2002. At M Joo Grandes, I documented his classes extensively with video recordings and photographs, and learned how to make my own berimbau. At the Schomberg. I copied various materials on capoeira, including an important thesis by T.J. DeschObi discussing the engolo, a supposed African antecedent of capoeira. Back in Michigan, Mestre Caboquinho had decided to prohibit me from training with T.A.B.C.A.T. Yet perhaps because of my inability to understand his English (or his intentions) clearly, I did not even realize that I had been barred until I finally returned to a class in Ann Arbor in September of 2003 and saw the surprised look on his face. The Mestre, ever sensitive to the coincidences of life, read my reappearance as a sign of stubborn determination, and conditionally reinstated me. Thus granted his forgiveness, I finally began to understand what he had been saying to me all along: that none of the challenges and apparently unreasonable demands he had placed upon me were ever meant to be taken personally. They were only meant to ensure the proper passage of capoeira angola. (As the Mestre is fond of saying: Thats it!!) So when several of my own students continued to argue for openness to other styles of capoeira, and a few students began to show their disrespect to the class

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more openly, I realized this was the critical juncture. In October, I finally announced my intention to affiliate the group with Mestre Caboquinho, and warned the rebellious students that disrespect would not longer be tolerated. By then, the contemporary professor had begun his own classes, which ironically made it easier for me to establish T.A.B.C.A.T. Columbus in early 2004 with a clear, undistracted path towards capoeira angola. While there have been other difficulties since that time, often due to persistent misunderstandings between myself and the Mestre, the progress of the group has nevertheless been remarkably consistent. It is perhaps ironic that my decision to limit the focus of the group has in fact made the path to understanding the mysteries of capoeira angola much more open.

Measuring progress Having said that, as of this writing, I am entering my fifth year of training under the Mestre, and I have yet to gain an official title or certification of graduation in capoeira angola. This has been a source of confusion and frustration to some of my own students, who know something about the history of our relationship, and believe that I should have been formally recognized by now. I also know that my lack of status in capoeira angola will lead some in the capoeira community to read my work, and some of my statements, as being highly premature, perhaps even presumptuous, given my relative youth in the game.19 Unfortunately, as I and my students have come to learn. it is often quite difficult it is to measure ones progress and status in capoeira angola. In modernized

19. In fact, this has already happened. On one of the online forums, Capoeira.com,

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capoeira schools, as already noted, a system of colored cordas (rope belts) are granted to students who have achieved specific goals of proficiency,20 thereby eliminating much of the inherent ambivalence of the game. However, in capoeira angola, such ranks and titles are applied very inconsistently. The average academy appears to grant the title of treinel (trainer) in about three to five years, the title contra-mestre (half, or assistant mestre) in five to seven years, and the title of mestre in as little as eight, or as much as twenty years. By this measurement, I could have already gained the title of treinel, and begun the path to contra-mestre. On the other hand, in some academies, like that of M Joo Grande, there are students with decades of training who are still not recognized with any rank at all.

My freedom to speak, and its limits Regardless of my lack of official title, the Mestre has repeatedly given me his blessing to do my own research, even if it contradicts him, or gets me into trouble with the capoeira community.21 He is confident enough in his own job to allow my research to contradict him. As one of the few self-identified representatives of capoeira angola tradicional outside of Bahia, the Mestre has often asserted that he is simply transmitting the raw, unfiltered reality of Bahian capoeira to his students. Through his classroom teachings, biannual student trips to his homeland, and the

20. These cordas do not always guarantee a students level of understanding, but they are more or less reliable indicators. 21. Pointing to the same forum controversy I noted a moment ago, in which I was also very strongly accused of misrepresenting another mestre, Mestre Caboquinho reminded the community that [w]hat Luna says, he as an American, does what I have asked all my students to do and that is research Capoeira. Personal communication, May 2006. Other, more ridiculous accusations have also arisen, including one that suggests I went around Bahia demeaning M Caboquinho .

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encouragement of students personal research, the Mestre not only believes that he is demonstrating the qualities of a good teacher, but more importantly, that he is helping to preserve the uniquely Bahian character of capoeira angola in his North American students. He also believes that with the right kind of guidancea contradictory combination of hands-on and hands-off instructionstudents will arrive at the truth of capoeira angola, in line with his own philosophy, but in their own way. (This attitude is also very much in keeping with the spirit of capoeira itself, in which players improvise in a very personal way within a limited system of movement options.) This freedom, in fact, has been one of the reasons I have decided to continue training with him, in spite of the challenges, difficulties, and mistakes that have occurred. Given what I have learned, I do not feel I have the right to quote the Mestre directly, outside a few useful instances. By extension, it is not my job to speak for him, but rather to speak on my own terms, as his student.22 In this light, he has asked me to refrain from comparing his teachings to others, because he does not feel he has anything to prove through my research. Indeed, he prefers to say that his capoeira speaks for itself. (Taking some time to understand and respect such a statement has itself been very instructive.) Still, the Mestres has asserted my right to speak as his student, and as someone who is curious about capoeira.23 As such, my tutelage under him, beginning in 2002, has consisted of some fifty trips to Detroit and Ann Arbor, half a dozen formal workshops with him in Columbus, and dozens of phone conversations thus

22. At any rate, because of this preference, I have not even been granted a formal interview with the Mestre. 23. Personal communication, 28 May 2006.

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far. (I have also had the opportunity to train several times with his Contra-Mestre Biriba (b. Raquel Prymak, So Paulo, Brazil, c. 1970) from Miami, Florida.) In addition, I have also sat through dozens of the long lectures on philosophy, history, and the realities and mysteries of the game that often start or end his classes. (Thankfully, these are no longer directed primarily at me.) From an academic point of view, it is unfortunate that I have generally not been permitted to document these teachings in a formal way. The Mestre believes that note-taking and recording devices are obtrusive and can prevent students from gaining a more embodied understanding of capoeira angola. (Indeed, I have also found this to be true.) Despite this, I have written extensive post-class notes, dating back to 2003, which have been very helpful in writing this work, and transmitting the Mestres teachings to my own students.

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