Brazzil
March 2002
Music
"I don't like labels, for I make the most sincere music that comes to me at the moment of composing it."
In the last three years, Brazilian music has suffered with the lack of good releases in the CD market. I have noticed two very evident trends from the major labels: live recordings and compilations. Even though compilations are good products to introduce new listeners to an artist's work or even to reissue forgotten treasures, major labels are overusing this recycling of compilations to alarming numbers. Take a look at a few of the series currently out in the market: MPB FM, Super Popular, Geração MPB, Enciclopédia Musical Brasileira, Série Bis, Série Bis Bossa Nova, Série Focus, Série Millennium, Série Sem Limite—already in its 3rd phase!—Série 100 Anos de Música, E-Collection and several others.
This state of affairs becomes worse when one takes into consideration that albums out of print are not being reissued, even though the demand is there. Compounding this problem, the labels arbitrarily retain the rights to recordings and neither reissue nor negotiate with artists ways to release their works.
This market saturation directed me to search for Brazilian music through independent artists. Finding those works can be hard at times, but the results are often worth that arduous process. There is a tremendous number of artists to be discovered out there, and there exists a new market of independent producers and musicians. Among those, for example, I introduce you to Érico Baymma, born in the state of Minas Gerais and now residing in Fortaleza, Ceará.
Baymma was born in Barbacena, and moved to Fortaleza in 1970, after a period of six years in São Paulo. Self-taught pianist, he began playing the piano when he was six years old. At 22, he also learned to play the guitar on his own. Whether playing the piano or the guitar, Baymma has a very intimate style that displays the sensibility of the music he creates. Vocally, bossa nova is clearly the most predominant style in his compositions, which perfectly fits his instrumental minimalism.
Besides being an accomplished musician, Baymma is also a graphics artist and video maker. This combined passion of music and video has earned Baymma several awards in Fortaleza as well as throughout Brazil. In 1996 he began recording his album Artesanato (Handicraft), which was released in 1997. The album was nominated for the Sharp Award (the Brazilian equivalent of a Grammy) in 1998 and in 2001, for the Nelsons Award of Cearense Music. His most recent award just happened this past November 2001 with best soundtrack of "Conto Logo o Quanto Louco (I'll Tell You Now Just How Crazy)," directed by Lília Moema, in the II Festival Nacional of Vitória (state capital of Espírito Santo). The same soundtrack had previously won the Festival of Video in Fortaleza in 1992.
In one of my visits to Fortaleza, I spent several days accompanying Baymma to various shows, and we talked extensively about his music. Always smiling and with incredible, jovial disposition, Baymma opened up about his work, influences and future projects.
Brazzil—Reading the liner notes in Artesanato, I could not help but notice a name that stood out in your thank-you list: the one connected to your artistic name. What is the story behind it?
Baymma—I was born Érico Baima Rôla and turned into Érico Baymma in honor of Nana Caymmi, who was directly responsible for my artistic birth. Through her name, I pay homage to the Caymmi clan, which I so admire. Nana was directly responsible for my self-discovery, making me aware of the fact that I make music, I sing. That was extremely important to me. It changed my life around, which was previously directed to banking and other administrative work. It is my tribute to the Caymmis via Nana because of their musicality, which so well represents Brazilian music.
Brazzil—Besides the Caymmis, are there other influences in your work?
Baymma—My MPB (Brazilian Popular Music or Música Popular Brasileira) musical formation was directed by the presence of Elis Regina, Edu Lobo, Chico Buarque, Paulinho da Viola and Gilberto Gil. Paulinho da Viola rules as the one I would "officially" say is my most significant influence because of the lightness and melodious tone of his voice. Tom Jobim is also dominant, a popular songwriter whom I respect a lot. Early on, I was listening mainly to Elis, Tom and Chico. Later on, Caetano Veloso, Nana Caymmi, João Gilberto, Milton Nascimento and the rest of the gang came into the picture, especially after 1979, when I was living in São Paulo and had the opportunity to see live shows and get to know more performers.
Nowadays, I am paying more attention to independent productions. The numbers of excellent artists not being covered by the media are outstanding. I include here the great Zé Luiz Mazzioti—his rendition of "Bambino (Você Não Me Dá)" is very moving—Ernesto Nazareth and Catulo da Paixão Cearense—whose works I more recently studied in depth—and Mônica Salmaso. These are first-class performers besides being very meticulous when choosing their repertoires and arrangements. There are, of course, many other names in the arena of jazz, such as Billie Holiday, Shirley Horn and, more recently, Diana Krall. I love their way of singing and how their sound is produced. Horn's piano playing is fantastic with unparalleled subtlety. I could not forget to mention Chet Baker. I used to sing more or less like him and have now delved deeper into his musical world.
In instrumental music, my idols or sound influences include Philip Glass, Uakti, Egberto Gismonti, Peter Gabriel, Brian Eno and Jan Garbarek among others. Their presence became stronger also in 1986, when I was introduced to musical minimalism and contemporary jazz.
I particularly pay attention to sound production, to the form that music "happens," the spice that turns an idea into music concretely. When I say I am influenced by this or that artist, I am talking about how each one with his or her personal style and the way they produce their music gave me "my contents" and added to my way of thinking. One album that was fundamental in my formation as an instrumentalist was Keith Jarret's Köln Concert. His musical freedom expressed via improvisation and intense emotions gave me the ability to fly anywhere.
By the same token, I see myself completely influenced by any art form, such as literature, as in Clarice Lispector's and José Saramago's forms of expression, which are liberating and yet reflexive and amoralist in their never-ending questioning. I believe that those things induce freedom or its quest, and they affect me in various ways profoundly and mainly musically. That is the way I think, and that is why I identify with those authors.
Brazzil—Is minimalism precisely how you define your music?
Baymma—I love music and arts in general. Musically, it is easy to define me as a minimalist or new age or world music. Honestly, I don't like labels, for I make the most sincere music that comes to me at the moment of composing it. That is why some of the vocal music I perform is classified as bossa nova, since it is an intimist musical form, not to mention that I am also influenced by that genre. Nevertheless, in both musical scopes, instrumental and vocal, I strive for the absence of tragedy and the most expression of emotion—if it is at all possible to avoid tragedy expressing emotion. (laughter) I like music that does not struggle to call attention—which exists, absorbs and moves simply by being. That is the music I search for.
Brazzil—How do you reconcile your vocal and instrumental artistic veins?
Baymma—I mentioned previously the determining influences of Köln Concert and Clarice Lispector among others. Recently I had the opportunity to get in touch with Lispector's thinking more deeply through an interview she gave to the Brazilian TV Educativa in the 70s in which she said she "wanted to flower." I believe that Jarrett's album along with Lispector's thinking propose a certain internal and artistic freedom with various options to follow. Everything can be done provided one respects the personal, technical and aesthetic limitations. I rely on that idea to make vocal and instrumental music. I can do everything, under my conceptualization, of what I see in the world, of what I believe I can give the world. I love to sing and to make music—any kind, any genre within my own parameters. It is a shame that it is still hard to record my vocal work, probably because of my intimate style.
Brazzil—Before we discuss Artesanato, let's talk about your vocal works.
Baymma—From 1986 on, once the artist was "revealed," I began writing vocal and instrumental music more diligently. I already had several songs, but I did not think they were worth recording. After my return to Fortaleza in 1989, I got closer to local talents after the first big impact of listening "Consolança" (Comfort) in Aparecida Silvino's voice and Eugênio Leandro's acoustic guitar. I thought to myself that I belonged in that group and it'd be worthwhile. I began writing more frequently. There was some prejudice in me regarding the marketing logic and how music is sold. Meeting Aparecida and Eugênio opened up my eyes to the value and beauty all around us being forgotten by the market and public in general. Today I am more open to those discoveries and am more aware of the quality of music making.
My first song partnership was with Glícia Rodrigues in 1992. "Beco sem Saída" (Dead-End Alley) was recorded for the album celebrating the 10th anniversary of Cais Bar (see discography and lyrics), a pub which promotes talents making music in Ceará. That song entered the 1994 Festival Canta Nordeste. The song happened almost by accident, when Glícia Rodrigues gave me one of her poems. We were in an art gallery, and I had my guitar with me. In less than half an hour, the music was ready. She was thrilled, I was thrilled, and so was everyone else. Some people talked about the harmonies I had chosen. Since I have no formal technical background, everything happens by instinct. Only later did I realize the preciousness of the melody in the background of the beautiful poem by my friend Glícia.
Brazzil—Fascinating! Is that natural process what happened with "Qualquer Dia" (Some Day)?
Baymma—As for Felipe Cordeiro, we had been friends for many years. However, I did not know he wrote or played music. I knew he liked music, and soon we became partners. For "Qualquer Dia" the music had already been written. A friend wrote some lyrics, but I didn't like them. I then showed Felipe the music. It worked, even though the words were not along the ideas I had proposed. I wanted to talk about free love and he chose to talk about the pain of love. (laughter) Nevertheless, I liked the lyrics very much. Maybe he chose to write those words because of the melody and its lament. The harmony had a minor descending tone for its base. My intimist voice might also have contributed.
Brazzil—By the way, this intimist style is a very noticeable characteristic in your performances. It is as if a part of you would be pouring out in the notes of the song. Those two song, "Beco sem Saída" (lyrics by Glícia Rodrigues) and "Qualquer Dia" (lyrics by Felipe Cordeiro), are gorgeous and, yet, very different from what we hear in Artesanato. It is as if Érico Baymma, the singer, were different from Érico Baymma, the musician. Do you have distinct processes of writing instrumental and vocal music?
Baymma—In both areas of my work I mix popular and erudite, urban and rural concepts always attempting to translate my instinctive and intimist way of expression. I also see in my songs an influence of Maysa (Matarazzo), who was deeply melancholy and "caliente" (which is a paradox), as well as some jazz, which I like.
It is interesting your observation about the music in my voice. I believe your assertion is accurate. Between each and in every note, I give myself to the emotion, and then there is renewal. That is what I was talking about when I mentioned Maysa. Add to that a little bit of Chet Baker. Maybe I'm a mixture of those two. (laughter)
In instrumental compositions I'm also intimist, but potentially more diverse and open. That is what happens in Artesanato, where I propose a musical journey that comes from a concrete, superficial world and enters the intimism, more explicit in "Caça Submarina" (Undersea Hunt). In previous tracks, there was already some preparation for the internal chaos. Then there is the rebirth.
I believe I am coherent with my production. With vocal pieces, each song exists by itself, whereas in the instrumental numbers, there is a conceptualized trip internally. The work is a whole, but that does not preclude each piece from existing separately.
Brazzil—I am aware of the high school project for Colégio Santa Cecília in which several faculty members wrote lyrics to be set to music by local musicians. You just finished recording the song "Sonho Desfeito" (Broken Dream) for that project. Was it much different from Artesanato?
Baymma—That CD was a challenge for everyone. Santa Cecília is the patron saint of musicians. The high school joined forces with studio Iracema—the same producers of Cais Bar—with the intent of getting the faculty, who had no prior musical experience, to write music. The high school staff and studio producers selected the lyrics. The studio then decided which composers identified better with each poem. The results were fantastic, and the album came out in November 2001. We took the lyrics from people we did not even know and turned the words into music. The CD was very eclectic and plural in every way. Valda Maia, who wrote the words for "Sonho Desfeito"—I wrote the music and performed the song on the CD—was very happy with the final result of her poem becoming music. Aroldo Araújo arranged it for the CD. The album has some great gems, such as "A Poesia" (Poetry), by Tonico Lacerda Cruz and music and performance by Isaac Cândido. There is forró, jazz, choro, everything!
As for Artesanato, it was really a labor of patience and much care. I spent a year recording the music at home, working on the sounds, mastering and finally editing the album. It was also a great challenge. The first challenge was the production and then the release. I am thankful to two great friends as executive producers, Rita Faço and Alexandre Santos. Without their assistance, the album would likely still be shelved.
There is a tremendous difference in the process of producing Artesanato. The music was born in me of different times and places, but from within my world, my ideas, whereas "Sonho Desfeito" was written "to order" in record time. In both propositions, I was very satisfied and enjoyed the challenge. It is a challenge to be an artist anywhere in the world, and we don't choose who we are.
Brazzil—Well, let's talk more in detail about Artesanato. How was the idea for the album born? Incidentally, the cover artwork and liner notes you designed are really well done.
Baymma—The music started being written in the early 90s, right after my return from São Paulo to Fortaleza. A few were written before that time. I had the fixation that I would be only a singer/songwriter of songs, just a vocalist. However, the music kept being born on the piano, and they didn't have lyrics. I don't even know that they could! The music stayed in the drawer for a while because I wanted to record them on a good piano, which is something hard to access here in Ceará. The idea of being solely a singer/songwriter lingered on, and the project kept being put off.
Some people were of the opinion that I should have only one path: that of being a performer and writer of songs. For those people, their generalized idea left no room for alternatives. I've always been the type who does a lot of things: writing, painting, sculpting, dancing. I am restless. (laughter) How could I fit the idea of being only one thing? With a lot of patience—immense patience!—I slowly started my mini-studio and began recording in a rudimentary way, like handicraft, even though I could have used minidisks.
Through overdubs, I composed the sound you hear in Artesanato. Of course I'd have loved to have made Artesanato more acoustic, with a grand piano (such as the Steinway I played in São Paulo, with a fantastic sound and every note music in itself!), orchestra and other instruments. Nevertheless, to make Artesanato "synthesized" was the way I found to accomplish my work. To be quite honest, I like the result very much. It could have been better, but it can always be better!
Thanks for your kind words about the CD artwork and liner notes. That is yet another side of me: I work with graphic arts. It is a challenge to accept the CD artwork concept because there is also that idea of putting the artist's face on the CD cover. As with everything else, the work of an artist has to follow the concept of his work more than having the image of the artist in order to make his work concrete. The cover has two meanings. The first is based on a story about Picasso. The story says that Picasso used to spend hours in front of a blank wall until he discovered the form he would give it to make a mural.
That is more or less the way I compose. One can imagine the CD cover as a wall being sculpted in layers. Among those layers, you can see faces and in the background a human torso—no head, arms or feet—in a sensual movement, very provocative. The other meaning of the cover is the ocean waves breaking on the sea shore, with Ceará white sandy beaches and green water highlighted. Thus the relationship with the ocean theme on the CD.
Brazzil—Artesanato begins and ends with the same theme, "Reflexões" (Reflections). You connect that theme to Philip Glass, urban sprawl and continuous movement. Could it also be linked to the ocean, the other theme found in Artesanato?
Baymma—"Reflexões," as I explain in the CD liner notes, was a theme written for a TV show covering philosophy, arts, politics, daily routine, etc. As I have said before, I identify myself a lot with the thinking process of Lispector and Saramago—two "compulsive" thinkers—as well as the music of Jarret. However, I am not into academics. Quite the contrary, I run away from that subject, even though I consider myself a thinker. As such, I am constantly trying to keep myself up to date in the way of being and thinking. I am urban. I've had a few chances of experiencing the rural, and I like it.
I respect time as a norm: each second is different, but that doesn't suggest the urban neurosis of frantic movement, but rather a slowing down of the movement. I see that in Philip Glass and Uakti, among others, and my proposition is just that: mainly to see music and art as the best way of using time, the most respectful way of living and cohabitating with time. My new CD, Imagem e Sombra (Image and Shadow), ends with these two tracks: "Triunfo do Tempo" (Time Triumph) and "Refletindo e Vivendo" (Reflecting and Living). The ocean is the sign of work and confirms that world vision.
Brazzil—"O Trem do Dia" (The Train of the Day) is a mixture of an electronic universe with regional elements, which you refer to as "batidas tribais" (tribal beats). Can you elaborate more on that?
Baymma—As I said it before, Artesanato proposes an introspective ritual. "O Trem do Dia" is still on the surface. It's my Mineiro (native of the state Minas Gerais) side speaking of "trem bão" (a Mineiro expression to denote something really good). It's also the fantastic side of Brazilian culture—maybe global—with the image of a train as a means of transportation. A train has a nostalgic ring to it, doesn't it? "O Trem do Dia" has this type of sound very urban and universal, sometimes similar to the sound concepts of Jean Michel Jarre and Vangelis. Through that image, I begin to bring the listener into intimism. That is largely used as a technique (as in psychological works) to activate the movement of emotions through strong rhythms and cadenced and repetitive beats that induce one into a trance—thus the tribal connotation—leading into introspection. The whole process opens up to a self encounter and an encounter with the world. That song and its tribal beats prepare the listener to other moments in the album.
Brazzil—The next two tracks, "Iracema" and Carlinhos Crisóstomo's "Litoral" (Seaboard), bring a noticeable change in style, now more acoustic and classic. The lyrical tone of those melodies inevitably makes us think of Chopin and Debussy. Your hands seem like they're floating and barely touching the keys.
Baymma—Let me just emphasize I'm not a connoisseur of classical music, and I can't really give a more technical opinion about this and that piece. I love erudite music, which I began to enjoy after CDs appeared on the market—better sound, less hiss and clicks. I know many people still love the sound from an LP, but I can't stand the needle friction and the resulting noise that comes from that. I love Chopin, Debussy and Ravel. Lately, I've been listening a lot to Debussy and Ravel. I wish I had the grandiosity of those composers! (laughter)
Brazzil—Please tell us a bit more about "A Nave" (The Ship). For me, that is the most Chopiniesque of these tracks.
Baymma—Certainly. Since I wrote that piece and started playing it to other people, everyone kept telling me it was Chopin's. I'd smile with pride. I did not write it thinking of copying Chopin. To write music, for me, is something completely intuitive. I've taught myself how to play the piano and can't read music. The sentiment of Chopin's music must have been there when I wrote that piece. That must be it. It is a very passionate piece with tendencies and influences by Chopin, but it would never have the grand feeling of the music by that genius. "A Nave" is probably one of the best pieces I've written for piano, and it follows the same path of simple and repetitive harmonies found in minimalism, even though the melody here is more fluid.
Brazzil—The theme about the ocean, ships and fish does have a central point in Artesanato. How about the vivacious theme of "Os Peixes" (The Fish)?
Baymma—Within the ideas for the CD, the form to follow for gradual introspection was obtained through the elements found in the city of Fortaleza, Land of Light, and her wonderful beaches—a city and piece of land I love and have chosen to live in. "Os Peixes" is my dedication to the children I've known in my life. There is a certain oriental flavor, but it is also very vivacious and frolicsome. Since I was describing a path, it was essential that I speak of the joking manner that fish seem to have in their existence. In my vision, they look like toys. Furthermore, in the introspective path I've proposed, I believe that there has to be a rupture of the tension or else people will drown! (laughter)
Brazzil—In "O Mar" (The Sea), you refer to Jan Garbarek's "sonorous ideas." The melody grows in astounding progression.
Baymma—Those artists I cited as my influences are not just because of their techniques and sound production, but also for the feeling that overflows and with which my work identifies. I became acquainted with Garbarek through the album It's OK to Listen to the Gray Voice. (I had heard him before in some special appearances in Egberto Gismonti's albums, but that was the album I "found" him.) Two songs I especially like in that album: "White Noise of Forgetfulness" and "Mission: To Be Where I Am." The album is completely intense, but those two pieces melted with my thinking, not only because of their titles but also for the compositions themselves. "O Mar" shows how intense the ocean is, similar to the movements of life: quiet sea, rough sea. The identification with Garbarek's music is in the intensity and progression of the way he plays the sax, generating a variety of emotions all complete in themselves.
Brazzil—"Caça Submarina" (Undersea Hunt) is for me the most visual moment of Artesanato. You seem to have captured the entire undersea world. Jules Verne becomes music.
Baymma—I like your comparison! I had not thought about that possibility. "Caça Submarina," as I mentioned in the liner notes, was born as a vignette for Vikking Eggeling's "Symphonie Diagonale," from 1924, in which he shows the deconstruction of images. The music lasted just a little over a minute. The idea stayed in my mind. I had to write more about it. I gave in and submerged into the thought.
It's interesting to notice that when I was masterizing the CD, I had some friends over one night. As we watched TV with the sound off, the album was playing in the background. At the very moment that "O Mar" began until "Caça Submarina" ended, the images on TV were that of rough, tempestuous seas. We were all surprised at how well the music fit those images! It is a very hard piece, I know. However, I do believe it's one of the best moments of the CD as a whole and as my proposition to "flower," as Lispector said.
Brazzil—You have two feminine inspirations on the album. First there was "Iracema," a legendary female character in Brazilian literature. Now we have "Vênus." How did that piece originate?
Baymma—Funny, that was another piece I wrote in half an hour—composition, arrangement, recording. I started experimenting with sounds, adding here and there… It was a moment of peace, rooted in modern jazz and ballad. The music is vibrant, insinuating and also has that Venus characteristic of total love. Even though I don't give credit to considerations about sexism, I recognize that certain pieces do have feminine inspiration.
Brazzil—One could even think about a mythological trace in your music.
Baymma—Certainly, I work with signs and myths, a little bit instinctively and a little bit rationally. Mythology is the best form of representation of the human personality and its diversity. I like talking about humanity, its feelings, visions or images.
My next album has the title Imagem e Sombra (Image and Shadow), and it is also presented gradually from the stand point of the character Andarilho (Pilgrim), from a poem in Scott Mutter's "Surrational Images." The verses go like this: "I'm a Pilgrim on the edge, on the edge of my perception, We're always travellers at the edge, on the edge of our perceptions." There was a certain block during the character translation and understanding of the concept of my work. Pilgrim can have different meanings in Portuguese. I wanted to talk about being free, as all of us are when we're born, and the process of learning and our relationship with the world. It is the story of one person and of people.
Brazzil—The song written by Eugênio Leandro and Oswaldo Barroso, "Consolança" (Comfort), perfectly fits the spirit of your work. As with the other more acoustic pieces, "Consolança" is very soothing, like a child's lullaby.
Baymma—It is intriguing this vision of calm songs. Sometimes they are labeled as new age. I recorded that piece because I adore Eugênio Leandro's melody and Oswaldo Barroso's lyrics. I also like the arrangement I wrote for the song very much. I hope to record a vocal version of it in my vocal album. The arrangement for "Consolança" fits the scope of my work as instrumental music and completes the trip from the superficial to a deep immersion in itself. It is reborn through Venus. The lyrics say, "If the rivers dried up, don't cry no, the waters of the ocean nobody will dry them." Though no words were used in Artesanato, the song "comforts" and eases the feeling of this traveler.
Brazzil—Speaking of vocal works, I have heard several of your special vocal appearances in other artists' albums. I've also heard you sing live. So, when is a vocal album being made?
Baymma—I've had a project for a vocal album for years. It'd be my interpretations of Brazilian classics, songs from Ceará and others I wrote alone and with friends. I'm also searching for music. I'm going through a rigorous searching process, and I want to make an album that looks very much like me. Who doesn't want that? (laughter) This is a time for growth as well as research. The search is very rigorous and the criteria strenuous. We have to find the right path. I want lyrics, I want music, I want ideas even if I already have some conceived somewhere in my head.
Brazzil—I recently had the privilege of hearing your sing "Summertime." Your ability to personalize songs outside the Brazilian songbook is remarkable. Are you going to be in charge of the arrangements in this vocal project you have in mind?
Baymma—This interpretation of "Summertime" was recorded for a video produced by a group of teachers and U.S. film producers members of the Partners of America program. It dealt with the way of living in the Brazilian northeast countryside. That song was chosen as a modern symbol of the Brazilian northeastern lament mixed with the foreign culture through U.S. investments and development norms.
I truly believe that we must personalize our interpretations. Everything must look like the face of the person doing it. Because of that, it takes me a lot of time selecting what I'll sing since I want something that looks and sounds like me and the way I think. I also do the same with Brazilian music. Sometimes, when singing a Brazilian tune, people will only recognize the song later on with the refrain. That happened not too long ago, when I was singing an old forró (a northeastern musical genre) written by Carlos Santos. The song is "Quero Você" (I Want You), which I arranged like a bossa nova tune.
I have a peculiar characteristic: my identification with the music first before noticing the lyrics. Therefore, a song can be Brazilian, North American, European or whatever nationality. If I include it in my repertoire, I'll sing it my way. That is why I tell all my musician friends that they must personalize what they do, bring it to their own style and arrange the music under their own concepts.
Probably in my vocal album I'll work in partnership with an arranger, but the end result will have to sound like me, have my sound stamp.
Brazzil—Érico, thank you very much for sharing these ideas about you and your music with us.
Baymma—I am the one who should thank for the wonderful opportunity to share a little bit of the ideas that circle in my mind and motivate me to compose and play the music I make. This was a gift for me, especially since as an independent artist and also an instrumental performer, it is very rare that we are given a chance like this to expose our ideas and motivations surrounding instrumental music. It was a pleasure talking with you.
DISCOGRAPHYYou can hear Érico Baymma's music at mp3.com/EricoBaymma. Artesanato is sold at Caravan Music (www.caravanmusic.com).
CDs:
Érico Baymma: Imagem e Sombra (Independent, in production)
Érico Baymma: Artesanato (Independent, VICD 1487), 1997
Vocal participations in:
Alano Freitas (Independent, in production)
"Sax Dorido" (Hurting Sax) & "Canção no Jardim" (Song in the Garden)
Faces (Independent, 2001)
"Sonho Desfeito" (Broken Dream)
Felipe Cordeiro: Outra Esquina (Independent, 1999)
"Qualquer Dia" (Some Day)
Pessoal do Cais Bar—Novos Compositores e Intérpretes do Ceará (Independent, CAIS-95), 1994
"Beco sem Saída" (Dead-End Alley)
Video Soundtracks:
Conto Logo o Quanto Louco (I'll Tell You Now Just How Crazy) (Direction: Lília Moema)
Best soundtrack, II Festival Nacional de Vitória, 2001.
Best soundtrack, Festival de Vídeo de Fortaleza, 1992
O Alvo (The Target) (Direction: Lília Moema)
Best soundtrack nominee at FestRio Ceará, 1994
Egídio Leitão has written for Bossa—Brazilian Jazz World Guide, JazzTimes and Luna Kafé. His feature column "Terra Brasilis" appears at Caravan Music (www.caravanmusic.com) and BrazilMax (www.brazilmax.com). A native of Fortaleza, Ceará (northeast Brazil), he lives in Austin, Texas, and can be contacted at egidio@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu
Beco Sem Saída
(Érico Baymma/Glícia Rodrigues)
Que desejos são esses
que insistem
e aos poucos afloram
como cantigas de ninar
Vieram de longe, restos
de um tenro olhar
Dias antigos
de muito aninhar
Que desejos estranhos
Imagens distraídas
dos passeios e carícias
à beira mar
iguais aos primeiros
quando ainda tínhamos
o que caminhar
Dead-End Alley
(Érico Baymma/Glícia Rodrigues)
What are these desires
That insist
And slowly come to surface
Like lullabies
They came from far away, left-overs
From a tender look
Old days
With lots of cuddling up
What strange desires
Distracted images
Of strolls and caresses
At the sea shore
Similar to first times
When we used to have
Where to go
Qualquer Dia
(Érico Baymma/Felipe Cordeiro)
O cigarro, o frio, a noite
Restos de chuva na sacada
Olho a lua refletida
nos ladrilhos da calçada
Veja só o que aconteceu
Ambos sós, você e eu
Fica em mim esse vazio
O meu peito ainda guarda
todo o calor dos seus segredos
tantos sonhos nós vivemos
sem limite, sem ter medo
Hoje só a sua ausência
cala em mim o seu silêncio
Pulsa em mim seu coração
O meu coração parou naquela hora
Quando eu senti nos seus olhos
o que se perdeu pra sempre
O cigarro, a madrugada
a luz da lua refletida
a lembrança do seu gosto
que fazer da minha vida
olha só esse novelo
nosso amor, folhas ao vento
qualquer dia a gente se vê
Some Day
(Érico Baymma/Felipe Cordeiro)
The cigarette, the cold, the night
Remnants of rain on the balcony
I look at the moon reflected
On the sidewalk tiles
Look at what happened
Both of us, you and me
There's this emptiness in me
My heart still keeps
All the warmth of your secrets
So many dreams we lived
Endlessly without fear
Today only your absence
Hushes in me your silence
Your heart pulsates in me
My heart stopped at that hour
When I felt in your eyes
What was lost forever
The cigarette, the dawn
The reflected moonlight
The remembrance of your taste
What to do with my life
Take a look at this mess
Our love—leaves in the wind
Some day we'll meet