1992 - CIRCULADÔ - Show





 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



  



 

 

 

 



25/1/1992 - Aniversario de la ciudad de San Pablo

 

 

PORTO ALEGRE - 13 a 15 / 5 / 1992

Foto: Liza Caprilhone

O GLOBO

O GLOBO
6/9/1992

The New York Times 

September 8, 1992, on Page C00013

Review/Pop

The Many, Many Styles of Caetano Veloso

By STEPHEN HOLDEN

One of the greatest strengths of Brazilian pop is the ease with which so many of the country's best-known performers blend the yin and the yang aspects of music. Where American hard-rock musicians are loath to show a sensitive side and softer pop sentimentalists rarely rock out, Brazilian musicians like Caetano Veloso, who performed at Town Hall on Saturday and Sunday, move between hard-edged percussive chants and dreamy ballads as though such changes of pace were the most natural transitions in the world.

Mr. Veloso, who opens a five-night engagement at the Ballroom (253 West 28th Street, Chelsea) this evening, is a Renaissance man of music in the way his songs span many genres. They range from aggressive carnival songs that have a fierce percussive drive to ballads that are as wistful as the gossamer laments of Antonio Carlos Jobim, the bossa nova pioneer whom Mr. Veloso credited on Sunday evening as his biggest influence.

On Mr. Veloso's newest album, "Circulado," one cut, "Fora da Ordem," lurches forward on a tense, twangy 1970's pop-funk groove. The lyric, translated from Portuguese in the album notes, comments on urban blight, narcotics trafficking, poverty and prostitution and concludes, "Something has gone out of order out of new world order." But its vivid imagery also celebrates the vitality of South America's urban jungles. "I only know several beautiful harmonies without a final judgment," the narrator concludes.

This mixture of pointed observation and fatalistic acceptance typifies Mr. Veloso's world view. More than a diarist or a social commentator, at his best he is a true poet.

"Fora da Ordem," was among nearly 30 songs that Mr. Veloso performed on Sunday at Town Hall, where he was accompanied by three percussionists, a guitarist, a bassist and a cellist. Although the sound mix tended to muddy Mr. Veloso's vocals and overemphasize the drums, it was an auspicious concert whose best moments came when the band left the stage. Left alone to accompany himself on an acoustic guitar, Mr. Veloso relaxed his soft, slightly grainy voice until it became an extraordinarily flexible and expressive instrument redolent with laughter, tenderness and a serene sensuality.

Flashing Indian guru-like smiles and doing impromptu little jigs, the wiry, 50-year-old singer with wavy salt-and-pepper hair also revealed an exuberant, offhanded showmanship. Clad in a white mesh shirt, floppy maroon trousers and sandals, he would periodically grab the knees of his pants and playfully hike them into shorts.

Although he sang almost entirely in Portuguese (the major exception being a sprawling, samba-flavored rendition of Bob Dylan's "Jokerman"), he spoke mostly in English. The most interesting story he told was of his arrest and imprisonment in 1968 by the Brazilian military Government, which eventually put him on a plane to London, where he lived in exile for two and a half years.

While in England, he recalled, he received a message of sympathy from Roberto Carlos, a leading Brazilian pop singer. He explained that that was the Brazilian equivalent of John Lennon, at the height his immigration problems with the United States, receiving a word of sympathy from Elvis Presley.

 

17 a 20 de novembro 1992 - Salvador

11, 12 , 13 de dezembro 1992 - Rio de Janeiro