Chico Buarque in Lisbon: the malandro and the classic, the critic and the dreamer in a tender embrace between Brazil and Portugal

In addition to the joy and hope that Brazil inspires in him in 2023, and the omnipresent concern with social issues, Chico Buarque subtly introduces other themes to the shows that Lisbon will be able to see until Saturday: there are the somewhat derogatory self-portraits (with the great ‘ Bastidores’, from 1980), the most meta songs, in which he reflects on his craft and his raw material (such as the brilliant ‘Choro Bandido’, in which he assumes himself as a “fake” singer, capable of the most beautiful creations), and love, always love. At times, this love appears crossed with humor, as in the jovial ‘Biscate’, originally sung with Gal Costa and today shared with Mônica Salmaso, or in ‘Imagina’, in which he jokes, over a merry arrangement of flutes in hand: “You know that the boy who passes under the rainbow becomes a girl, turns / The girl who crosses the rainbow quickly becomes a boy again”. In other cases, love is pure drama poured into poetry. Freed from its somewhat dated 1993 arrangements, ‘Futuros Amantes’ is the best example of this intensity. Here, Chico Buarque imagines a future in which his Rio de Janeiro will be a submerged city, where divers will discover not only traces of a strange civilization but also traces of an unrequited love, which could be used by the humans of that future, at no extra cost. It is a song that discovers altruism in despair, and one of the most beautiful of this man who, with an image of the Marvelous City in the background of the stage, reveals himself to be a kind of wonder of nature.

That Chico Buarque – “our Chico”, as many fondly refer to him – choosing this repertoire will have to do with a conceptual concern, as has been the habit over the years, but possibly also with the need to adapt the songs to the voice , which shows the limitations inherent to age (and which Campo Pequeno’s acoustics don’t treat especially well either). It is with tenderness and intelligence that Mônica Salmaso joins him, in songs like ‘Sem Fantasia’ or ‘Injuriado’, sharing moments with their master that, more than duets, seem like smooth skirmishes, or even dialogues. The fragility that, occasionally, Chico Buarque reveals (“I make my little mistakes”, he will joke, towards the end) contrasts with the generosity of his delivery. Through Campo Pequeno, classic Chico and malandro Chico, criticism and dreams, utopia and dismay passed.

Despite the freshness of the first decades of his discography, it is also worth noting the excellent figure that songs from more recent vintages do: ‘Tipo um Baião’, for example, is just over ten years old and starts with one of the most memorable cues of the night. . “I don’t know why another love story at this hour”, recognizes the narrator, before presenting his effective mixture of love & humor, in a seductively dry song (and which proves that the mutation of the word “type” happened, apparently, in parallel on both sides of the Atlantic). Over time, recognizes Chico Buarque himself, his production became scarcer, but more refined. Released last year, the song ‘Que Tal um Samba?’, which names this tour, is evidence of this: brief and apparently simple, it is a prodigy of restraint & content, painting with accurate, almost merciless strokes, a moment of joy. As if, in order to celebrate, we shouldn’t brush off the pain that was left behind – on the contrary, sublimating it is the path of light.

With this love letter for Brazil, Chico said goodbye for the first time to the public in Lisbon, very rich in Brazilian fans. On his return, he recalled his sister Miúcha, the singer who also disappeared in 2018, with ‘Maninha’, and gently balanced on ‘Noite dos Mascarados’, whose evocation of Carnival lifted the audience in a happy dance. Already expected, the docking of ‘Tanto Mar’ in Campo Pequeno spread smiles of happiness and communion around the room. Launched in Portugal in 1975, and “released” in Brazil three years later, it is a dedication to the 25th of April and the most beautiful illustration of the fraternal embrace between sister countries. After this monument to freedom, ‘João e Maria’ joined the thousands who filled the first night in Lisbon in the sweetest and most memorable of choirs.

Beautifully accompanied by a seven-member band, and finding a safe harbor in the sure voice and sober presence of Mônica Salmaso, Chico Buarque heard some of the greatest ovations when, alone, he sat down to sing his own words. Voice and guitar is, here, a recipe as simple and infallible as bread and butter (or another favorite delicacy of the reader). Showing the usual criteria and parsimony – thus sacrificing occasional flashes of spontaneity -, he poured poetry in ‘Todo o Sentimento’, joked with the audience in ‘Bancarrota Blues’, recalled Gal Costa in ‘Mil Perdões’, imagined his end in ‘ Settlement’. He came, once again, to the country that (also) loves him to celebrate a miracle called Brazil. Before the first encore, the applause echoed with weight and strength under the roof of Campo Pequeno. More than the great music we just heard, a life was applauded.