Capoeira: Brazil's Beautiful Weapon
by Suki John
To the music of the one-stringed "berimbau" and voices joined in foreign song, a group of performers dressed in immaculate white run onto the stage at the United Nations. It is the opening ceremony of Amazon Week III, a multi-national effort to save the rainforest, and the Brazilian martial art/dance form, Capoeira, ushers in the diplomats. In perfect harmony the "Capoeiristas" tumble, vault, kick and turn, narrowly missing each other's faces as they show their abilities as dancers, singers and fighters.
As the rhythm accelerates, a compact young woman takes center stage, smiling. Edna Lima, top ranked martial artist and the first female "Mestre" (master) of her form, whirls through an improvised fight with her male partner. One-handed handstands, flying kick turns and lightning-fast rolls bring a cheer from the audience. Ms. Lima signals to her students, flashes her smile again, and bounds off the stage in song. Despite her grace and charm, this is not someone you'd want to meet in a dark alley.
"Herein lies the essential dichotomy of Capoeira; it is both dance form and fighting technique, art and self-defense. Practiced in an atmosphere that mixes dance studio with dojo," Capoeira has a deceptive air of informality. It is a serious martial art form that takes years of dedicated study to master. It just happens that the songs are infectious and the fighting practice is called "play."
No one knows exactly how Capoeira developed, but it is recognized as a self-defense technique for African slaves in 18th century Brazil. Cloaked in the guise of a recreational dance accompanied by berimbau, tambourine and chanting, Capoeira could look innocent enough to slavers and masters. But hidden within the acrobatic play was a disciplined martial art. It was with this powerful weapon that slaves prepared themselves to fight for freedom. African deities were evoked in song, and a rich, effective tradition emerged. Later, Capoeira became a pastime for roughnecks and street fighters. At times it was suppressed and forbidden, but never eradicated.
There are stories of Capoeiristas who protected their villages against attackers, using only their bare hands and feet, of old and blind "Mestres" who defied poverty and physical hardship to pass down the secrets of their art to the next generation.
Today Capoeira can be seen on the streets of Bahia and Rio, but in modern Brasilia, where Edna Lima grew up, it is seen in the province of practice rooms and universities. "There is no street life in Brasilia. Everything happens inside," says Edna who was twelve years old when she first learned of Capoeira. "My friends and I never heard of Capoeira -- now it is much more popular."
"I was a very athletic child," continues Mestra Lima, "I loved sports: basketball, swimming, everything. When I found out that in Capoeira you can jump, fight, and dance, I was very excited. But I was afraid to ask my mom about it -- I thought maybe it was only for boys. So I said I needed some money for books and with that I paid my registration fee."
Edna kept her secret for a week before confessing to her mother, guiltily offering to quit her lessons. Instead, Edna gained her mother's enthusiastic support. "My mom is very unusual. She is an actress, very involved in the arts. When she was young she wanted to study singing or acting, but at that time there was a lot of discrimination against women in those professions. My grandmother wouldn't allow it." Edna, the youngest of seven children, is the fortunate product of her mother's enlightened thinking. Not only did she receive
Capoeira lessons, but after showing an interest in Karate, she was encouraged in that as well. Edna's mother resisted repeated assertions that the martial arts were for boys, that they would rob Edna of her femininity. "She told me to do it if I liked it, to forget about what people said."
Edna's accomplishments far exceed what her family or neighbors could have anticipated, though her first Capoeira teacher knew the young Edna was exceptional. She is the first woman to be made a Mestra in Capoeira Senzala. Recently, Edna earned her fourth degree black belt in Shotokan Karate awarded by the International Championship held in Alaska, August 1992. She holds over twenty titles and awards, including gold medals from the Pan-American Karate Championships, the International Goodwill Tournament, the U.S. National Karate Championship and recently a gold at the USA Kumite Federations National Championships in Dallas (July 92). She was crowned Black Belt Magazine's 1991 Female Competitor of the Year and is ranked number one in the country. In July, she went to the world championships in Japan, a place she's always dreamed of going.
Edna began Karate classes one year after Capoeira, being drawn at first to the Eastern martial art because she liked the uniform. Her head start in Capoeira gave her a foundation of coordination and balance that helped in both techniques. She says she never confused the two forms and doesn't suggest starting two martial arts at once.
"Capoeira is more dynamic and uses more cunning. Karate uses more power," she said. "Capoeira is not like an Eastern martial art where you try to recreate the same thing. No. I don't like to call it a folk form either because folk is something you preserve, not something that changes. Since I came to New York four years ago Capoeira has changed so much. I'm impressed at how much! I must always take care to return to Brazil and stay in touch with the masters. I could be doing something else, making more money, but what can I say? I love Capoeira and Karate."
Edna stays in competitive shape by doing separate Karate and Capoeira workouts, supplemented by aerobics and African dance classes. "I like to cross train," she says, "I like to have fun."
It is the music of Capoeira that first startles the uninitiated, the songs that make the connection between martial art and dance. The music dictates the speed, rhythm and feeling of the moment. Each rhythm, like each step, has its own name. "Iuna," for example, is the beat that call forth the "purest, most beautiful movement." It is very much a dance, gymnastic and graceful. In contrast is the fast and driving rhythm of "São Bento Grande," which pushes the players to move quickly and powerfully. In between is "São Bento Pequeno," which elicits a soft fight with moments of suspension and breath. The rhythmic base of the songs tell the capoeiristas how to play, while the words and melody are improvised over the pulse.
As the players begin their "roda," or circle of play, the Mestre sets the rhythm with the berimbau. Around the circle capoeiristas clap and sing as the first two contestants grasp hands to begin, then cartwheel into the center of the ring. There, they face off in intricate patterns of kicks and esquivas (maneuvers), dodging each others' blows skillfully. They balance on their heads or leap backwards onto their hands, waving their legs in the air. If a player falls, it is considered a failure of form. The tradition of wearing white is to emphasize that the capoeirista shouldn't hit the floor -- a clean outfit reflects the player's skill.
Not quite a spectator sport, Capoeira demonstrations are held for friends, the community and special events, like the event at the UN. It's not a performance art, even though many capoeiristas are performers who use their physical and musical skills in other contexts. Mestra Lima, for example, has toured with Dance Brazil and appeared in the motion picture, Rooftops.
The most exciting time to watch the dynamic Capoeira is at a "batizado," or baptism. A big event, to which friends, family and other capoeiristas are invited, the batizado is an initiation of a new student into the form, or a graduation of an advanced student to the next level.
Edna Lima received her red cord, a colored belt that symbolizes the rank of master in Capoeira. The ceremony, called the master graduation, was held in Brasilia, in 1981. "People came from all of Brazil to Brasilia to check me out; who is this girl getting a Mestre in Capoeira?! The guys freaked out! But when they came to play with me they said, Yeah! This is great!' And they accepted me."
Ten years later Edna organized her first Batizado for her 25 students in New York, at Washington Square Church. There were about 300 people in the audience, clapping and singing. Two Mestres came from California, two from Brazil. It was a huge party of martial artists, their families and friends -- the special community of Capoeira. Although only capoeiristas (masters and students of Capoeira) can play while the audience watches, it is unlike a dance performance where the spectators are separated from the performers. The audience reacts loudly to each change of rhythm and tempo, and to the swift improvisation of the players.
Sometimes, Mestra Lima admits, she feels isolated in New York with her unusual art form. "We need in art, in life, an exchange," she says. "If there are a lot of people doing different things in the same art, they progress further. Sometimes I feel alone. Teaching American people isn't the same as teaching Brazilians, and my English is not so good. Capoeira isn't like the discipline of Karate where everyone does the same thing together. Capoeira has a discipline and respect that isn't as obvious. It's more organized than it might seem. Sometimes students don't know how far they can go or how they should treat the Mestre. But they are learning."
Mestra Lima's classes at Lezly Dance and Skate School studio* are lively, challenging events. Capoeiristas who work with other masters are likely to drop in and play at any time. Mestra Lima is an impressive blend of the strict dance teacher, pushing her students until they're about to drop, and the spirited competitor ready to jump in the ring. Her classes have the air of serious fun.
When asked where she'd like to be in five years, Mestra Lima says simply, "I don't think so far in advance." Her response might be mistaken for Brazilian nonchalance or Eastern philosophy, but she insists her perspective is "just Edna."
"One year ahead is far away for me. I plan what I can touch, what I can see, and for me it's day by day. If I put 100 percent of myself into doing this interview now, that's my best, but if I'm thinking that in two hours I have to be somewhere else, I waste my time. I think if you do a good job today then tomorrow is going to be good."
In closing, Edna Lima would like to give thanks to her Capoeira Mestre Tabosa and Karate Sensei Testa, both from Brazil.
This article was published in Dance Pages, Fall 1992.
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