Some of Rio’s most popular street carnival groups are fighting for the right to celebrate ahead of the city’s first official celebrations since the coronavirus pandemic began.
Rio’s world-renowned samba schools will spring back into action next week for their first parades at the Sambódromo Stadium in more than two years. But carnival enthusiasts behind hundreds of “blocos” – riotous musical troupes parading the streets with brass instruments and booze – are furious that they have not been given permission to gather.
The Omicron variant failed because of the plans for this year’s Lent, which should have taken place at the end of February. But while the sambodromo competition has been rescheduled for next weekend – and expensive private shindigs are also often held – authorities claim there hasn’t been enough time to prepare for the free outdoor blocos, which draw hundreds of thousands of partygoers.
More than 120 blocks this week denounced their offside in a manifesto that said, “The streets belong to the people and we are free to speak.”
“Night Goers Unite!” demanded the statement, whose signers included groups like the Soggy Capybaras and the Bellicose Knickers.
A reveler from a Bloco street party dances during a protest. Photo: Silvia Izquierdo/APHundreds of glitter-smeared Carnival activists pranced through downtown Rio on Wednesday night to protest what they called a hammer blow to the local economy and one of Brazil’s most important cultural assets.
“The town hall has given up the street carnival,” complained Kiko Horta, founder of one of Rio’s most famous blocos, the Cordão do Boitatá.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Street carnival – along with that [Sambódromo] Carnival – is the most important festival in the city. It has enormous symbolic, cultural and economic value. Simply banning it is absurd,” added Horta.
Telma Neves, the president of samba block Engata no Centro (City Center Coupling), joined the march with her 83-year-old mother Georgina, who hadn’t missed a carnival since she was six. “We’ve spent the last two years in silence, unable to do anything,” complained Neves, 58. “We’re arguing for the right to our own carnival.”
Wednesday’s rally provided a snapshot of the weird and wonderful world of Rio’s street carnival, as bacchanals of all ages and walks of life danced through the city in a dizzying array of costumes — or in some cases, almost no clothing.
A man came dressed as the Grim Reaper, wielding a Minion toy and a mock syringe – a political critique of President Jair Bolsonaro’s denial response to Covid. Other artists sambated on wooden stilts or carried the flags of their racy-named blocos, including Bésame Mucho (Cover Me With Kisses) and Bloco das Trepadeiras (Botanical Bonking).
Claudio Manhães, a 43-year-old radiographer, came to represent his group – formed by a gang of samba-loving radiology professionals and going by the name of Te Vejo Por Dentro, or I Can See Your Insides. “We thought this year’s carnival would be a super carnival like 1919 after the Spanish flu,” Manhães said, showing photos of the green T-shirts his block had printed for a party that was no longer scheduled to take place.
“It’s sad. There were so many expectations,” Manhães sighed. “The revelers wanted this moment of joy – and because of the Covid pandemic, even more than usual.”
Dhel Aquino, the founder of Dhel e os Cabras da Peste, a bloc that mixes samba with Northeastern rhythms like frevo and baião, said the government’s failure to support Rio’s free, open-air carnival undermined the democratic nature of the debauchery.
“Our carnival is participatory … a place where you can have fun when you have money and have fun when you don’t,” said the Amazonian-born journalist, who recalled getting involved in the carnival fell in love when he moved to Rio with his family as a child.
“I live carnival and I breathe carnival. I spend the whole year thinking about Mardi Gras,” gushed Aquino before pricking up a clown’s red nose and joining in the fun. “It stands for freedom. It represents that you can forget your everyday life, your problems, your demands and your worries.”
Tarcísio Motta, a left-wing councilman who has criticized the government’s treatment of the blocos, questioned whether Rio’s mayor wanted to portray himself as an “enemy of the carnival”. “The city hall rightly supports the samba schools… but why didn’t they do the same for the street carnival?” asked Motta, accusing the authorities of denying residents their legal right to carnival.
As protests intensified on Wednesday, Juarez Santos, president of LGBTQ+ block Banda das Quengas (Band of Floozies), recalled past carnivals when huge, sweaty crowds packed his block’s sound system in Cruz Vermelha Square to listen to Brazilian classics hear – and the obligatory anthem I Will Survive!
There would be no Gloria Gaynor in 2022, lamented Santos, whose rainbow vest featured the group’s name and the caricature of a muscular male dancer in a tiny scarlet thong. “This year we were silenced.”