Sempre Waldir, a tribute to the choro composer/instrumentalist
Waldir Azevedo in the
Sempre series from Kuarup (which also had albums dedicated to
Pixinguinha,
Jacob do Bandolim,
Chiquinha Gonzaga, Anacleto de Medeiros, and Ernesto Nazareth), includes
Azevedo's greatest hits, "Brasileirinho" and "Delicado," and classics like "Vê Se Gostas," along with other melodic themes, several of which are undeservedly forgotten outside of the circles of the initiated. The album's concept is to highlight the influence of the pioneer of the solo cavaquinho upon several generations of musicians who have become also cavaquinistas, but other instrumentalists and a singer are also featured here. Overall, the most conspicuous line dividing the performances is the one that separates traditionalists and modernists, and -- no a priori here -- proponents of both sides can be pleased. The comp was constituted through previously recorded tracks, and added a couple of new ones recorded for the project. The album opens with its producer,
Henrique Cazes, soloing on "Vê Se Gostas" (
Azevedo/Otaviano Pitanga) in a 1987 recording, with violonista (acoustic guitarist) extraordinaire
Rafael Rabelo providing much of the song's forward drive through his exciting rhythmic approach. "Carioquinha" (
Azevedo) presents the unusual sounds of trumpet/trombone in the genre by the hands of the capable duo Silvério Pontes/Zé da Velha, one of the best choro associations of late. Taking up the function of accompanists (and with the help of
Humberto Araújo at the tenor sax), the duo infuses the song with their peculiar mix of the modern harmonic/jazzy vocabulary of the former with the delicious traditional choro malice of the latter, leaving room for Ronaldo do Bandolim's angular and inventive solo that breaks with the tradition of choro of providing the melody with mere embellishments. Next in the lineup is
Déo Rian with "Não Há de Ser Nada," also nothing noticeable here for an instrumentalist of his stature. The lyrical "Mágoas de Cavaquinho" has as its high point the beauty of the melody in itself, and in
Chiquinho do Acordeon's inventive backing, while the synthesized strings sound a bit cheesy -- perhaps an evocation of the original string arrangement. The original version of the baião Delicado,"
Azevedo's biggest hit abroad, was chosen to represent the composer's playing, but the one who takes the melody is
Chiquinho himself, while
Azevedo limits himself to a little response to the accordionist's call.
Ademilde Fonseca, the only singer here, presents "Pedacinhos do Céu" in a recording from the '50s, with the grandiose lyrics by Miguel Lima (and the not less grandiose introduction) detracting from the simplicity of the theme, while
Fonseca, who can be productive in virtuosic up-tempo choros, shows evidence an annoying tendency to take some notes too sharp in this andante tempo, which perhaps can be put in perspective regarding the bad recording conditions of those times. Valmar Amorim, who played and recorded with
Azevedo, delivers "Cinema Mudo" in a sensitive, passionate way, full of rubati, giving a testimony of the Belle Époque character of the genre. He would bring this lyricism again through the interpretation of "Você, Carinho e Amor," definitively the most romantic piece here, dedicated by
Azevedo to his wife, Olinda. Bruno Rian,
Déo's son and for some years following his father's footsteps, delivers the beautiful "Quitandinha" with great technical care and attention to the dynamics required by the piece, but still lacksa personal voice. The same can be said for his delivery, shared with Márcio Almeida, of the unavoidable "Brasileirinho,"
Waldir's biggest hit in Brazil, which closes the album. "Choro Novo em Dó," performed by
Cazes in his traditionalist way, was taken from his LP Tocando Waldir Azevedo. Another agreeable piece whose interpretation doesn't carry the tradition any further is "Sentido," delivered by Márcio Almeida. But "Arrasta-Pé," in the Rabo de Lagartixa's performance, is one of the most remarkable points of this compilation, drawing attention to a haunting solo cello arabesque, joined by a discrete, scattered percussion, displacing the listener from the agreeable, ingenuous, and familiar suburban rodas de choro (choro get-togethers; "suburban" here means the low middle-class homes where choro meetings traditionally blossomed amid friendship, food, and drink), where the album was "happening" until then, toward some in-between place in contemporary times. The collage of rhythms follows the same lines, exploring a multiplicity of sentiments and attitudes, such as in an ad-lib intro, a parody of an Argentinean tango, and longing through a lyrical Brazilian feel provided by the sentimental violão backing in a modinha style, followed by the whole group attack of an energetic and rhythmic xote, and then by a marcha junina and an interlude that takes the theme's motive to bring associations with Villa-Lobos' Prelude #3 for guitar, and the affretando that suggests his "Trenzinho Caipira," concluding with a playful frevo. ~ Alvaro Neder