When I first visited Rio de Janeiro I was very firmly directed to the bonde. This is an open sided tram with bench seats running across from side to side, each end atopping a running board upon which the conductor performs his acrobatics, collecting fares, slipping the cruzeiro notes between his fingers and swinging himself up and down the side of the tram, avoiding passengers and their baggage on the inside and traffic on the outside.

Unfortunately, the bonde exists now in only one part of the city, from downtown, close to the docks, up into the old colonial districts. The views, however, afforded from the bonde are really unforgettable. Uncomfortable, slow, very often crowded but still very inexpensive, the ride offers the modern visitor a return to the Rio of a hundred years ago. As the tram struggles up the hillsides that compose the old city of Rio de Janeiro, it exposes the differing fantastic panoramas of the bays and mountains that have created the romance and excitement that is Carioca.

Riches and poverty rub shoulders together here as closely as in any other city of my own experience. The success stories evident in palatial homes, expensive forms of transport and wealthy, sophisticated styles are sharply contrasted with houses constructed from cardboard boxes, morros without means of sewage disposal and streets without drains but, nevertheless, vermin infested.

As the bonde climbs it is attacked by children clambering onto it from the rear, careering down its side to the front, then leaping off and waiting for the rear to catch up with them again before repeating the process. The extremes of conditions are much in evidence throughout most of Latin America, and Rio de Janeiro certainly has its share. It does seem however, that it is this very manifestation of extremes that allows the imagination to explore possibilities and feel that the place is 'live' and therefore welcoming to the musician and artist. If the reader has seen the film 'Orfeo Negro', he will have seen the bonde and its route and seen something of the atmosphere created by it.

The feelings and impressions that I gained from searching out 'old' Rio were in some way confirmed when I came across the music of Ernesto Nazareth. Born in Rio on the 20th March 1863 Nazareth was the musician that Villa-Lobos described as the 'real incarnation of the Brazilian musical soul'. He was pianist and composer and wrote a lot of music much of which is now standard repertoire with performers of Brazilian music. He is said, in fact, to have crystallised a style of music which is now seen to be typically Carioca, that is, of Rio de Janeiro. At the turn of the century, the tango and habanera were ubiquitous and Nazareth is said to have been instrumental, by introducing elements recognised as typically Brazilian, in modifying this music so that its character became very definitely Brazilian. It is also said that, in his day, he was one of the greatest exponents of Brazilian popular music and (to quote Brazilio Itibere) 'the authentic forerunner of erudite music of national character'. He was a working musician, playing recitals, theatres and cafés. Although his music is now enjoying some revival of popularity, Nazareth's own path seems to have been the all too familiar one of 'forerunners' in the arts and he died, in 1934, deaf and in tragic circumstances in the city whose ambience he was able to capture and portray and pass on to us today in his music.

We can continue with our study of samba by adding on chord structures to the rhythm patterns we have been looking at since the last article. The chord sequence of the study runs as follows:

Work out the fingering of each chord and then add that chord onto the rhythm pattern of that same bar.

Repeat that section until you have the feel of the samba. That is until the rhythm pattern is coloured by the chord without losing its 'lift'. When this can be done with each chord, play the sections in sequence. The effect should be one of a tight crisp sound coming from a relaxed rhythm.

One great difference between Brazilian and Spanish styles is that in the former, the accompanying chording is not 'strummed' but 'comped', the notes of the chord being struck simultaneously (piano style) not brushed. There are idioms where the chords are strummed, but the usual style for the Spanish guitar is to 'comp'.

To control the basses, I drop the back of the thumb onto the bass strings to stop them ringing. With a little bit of practice it will be found possible to do this without its interfering with the movement of the fingers. However, different shapes and sizes of hands require different systems and I offer this as one possibility.

Once the fingers are familiar with the chord and rhythm sequence build up the speed and then try to listen to various recordings of samba music, concentrating on the work that the guitar does there.

  Next time, we'll add on the melody and complete our samba study.