From its roots as an underground activity, Brazil’s national art form has gone global

By Anne L. Silveri

Capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian melding of dance and martial arts, is considered a national treasure in its native Brazil and has become a global phenomenon. But it wasn’t always so revered. When Jelon Vieira, a Brazilian capoeira master and a major force in popularizing the art form in the United States, left his house as a boy of 10, he would tell his mother he was off to play soccer. Actually, he was learning capoeira, which was then held in little esteem, in the streets of his hometown in Bahia. “She believed me because I would return dirty and sweaty,” he recalls.

Paulo Silva and Raphael Novaes, members of DanceBrazil, demonstrate capoeira moves. Nicknames are a tradition in capoeira; Silva is known as “Professor Chuvisco” and Novaes as “Fogo." (Photo by Jelon Vieira, courtesy DanceBrazil)

In this art form, dancers hurl themselves through the air, landing just in time to engage or provoke their partner. It’s sometimes hard to tell if what they’re doing is a form of combat, a game, or a dance. Often described by its practitioners as “a fight like a dance and dance like a fight,” it involves a kinetic conversation between the performers. In fact, one “plays” capoeira.

The basic structure involves a circle or semi-circle, where one performer enters the center and challenges another in a playful game of one-upmanship. The onlookers play instruments and sing as they cheer on the competitors. Dancers move in and out of each other’s negative spaces in exciting, near-miss moves. And some of those moves happen in the air as cartwheels, flips, and other acrobatic feats are melded into the dance. Sometimes a third dancer enters the mix. The movement language involves quick weight shifts, swinging limbs, and constant changes in direction, and there’s always a strong sense of connecting to one’s partner.

Today you’re more likely to find capoeira in a studio and on the stage than on the street. In the 1960s there were only two schools in Brazil; now there are hundreds. Though capoeira’s many styles and masters are distinct, they share a common ancestry.

Capoeira is taught in health clubs and physical education classes as well as in schools dedicated to the art form. “It’s become far more athletic,” says Vieira. At first exclusively practiced by men, capoeira today embraces people of both genders and all ages and levels of fitness. As in martial arts, there is a belt system, with specific requirements for each level, but no weapons are involved and there’s no Eastern influence. Music, which includes drums, tambourines, and the berimbau (an ancient, bow-like, stringed percussion instrument), is a huge part of the experience.

‘[Jelon Vieira] is such an example of humility; when he is teaching all the passion for life and capoeira comes out. He gives it all and demands the same.’ —Mauricio Campos

Capoeira originated in the 16th century as a way for African slaves who worked on sugar cane plantations to train physically under their owners’ noses; its game-like structure disguised what was intended as physical conditioning. Music was intertwined into the form early on, which helped keep up the false front. The paradox of the dance remains intact even today.

Even after Brazil abolished slavery in 1888, capoeira was illegal for decades. But it flourished underground, and eventually two leaders with distinct styles emerged. Manuel dos Reis Machado, known as “Mestre Bimba,” founded Capoeira Regional. Bimba convinced local leaders of capoeira’s cultural value and was instrumental in getting the ban on it overturned in the 1930s. Considered by many as the father of contemporary capoeira, he founded Academia-escola de Capoeira Regional, the first capoeira school, in 1932 in Salvador-Bahia. Vicente Ferreira Pastinha, known as “Mestre Pastinha,” is considered the father of another school, Capoeira Angola.

Capoeira Angola is considered the “mother” form. Unlike Capoeira Regional, it doesn’t award belts (cordas), and its rhythms are different; the pace is slower and the game much closer to the ground. Capoeira Regional might seem more athletic because of the flash moves and fast pace, but in Capoeira Angola the games are much longer, which also requires strength. In both forms, dance moves are often the preparation for a powerful strike.

Vieira, who divides his time between teaching all over the world and touring with his company, was one of the first people to bring capoeira to the United States. He founded Capoeira Luanda (which has studios in Texas, New York, Florida, Colorado, Missouri, Massachusetts, and Brazil), and directs the Capoeira Foundation, a New York–based performance and teaching group. The 55-year-old master teacher, who was recently honored with a 2009 NEA National Heritage Fellowship, trained with many famous teachers in Brazil, including Mestres Bimba, Eziquiel, and Bobo.

Eventually Vieira sought to expand his dance training, coming to the United States to study with Alvin Ailey, José Limón, and other pioneers of modern dance. In 1975 Ailey suggested that Vieira start a company and call it DanceBrazil. “He told me to keep [the name] simple,” recalls Vieira. “And make it easy to pronounce.”

DanceBrazil represents a blend of its own; the company includes both traditionally trained modern dancers and top capoeiristas. “There’s no way to separate the dance from the martial arts,” says Vieira. The company’s dancers, who have trained in modern, ballet, and capoeira, need to sharpen their acrobatics chops, and the capoeiristas need to blend in with the dancers. Vieira likes to throw some samba into the mix as well. “There are so many cultural influences in capoeira,” he says. “There’s also maeucule, a traditional folk dance, in there as well.”

As happened with hip-hop, changes occur when an art form travels from the street to the studio; typically the movement vocabulary becomes codified and the form develops in new directions. And that is just what DanceBrazil is all about. Though Vieira admits that a stage performance demands planning, he works toward keeping the risk-taking quality intact so that the dance maintains its edginess. It’s not unusual for the end of a DanceBrazil show to include an improvised feast of acrobatics.

One of Vieira’s leading students, Mauricio Campos, 40, has developed a successful training center, Brazilian Cultural Center, in Houston. A São Paulo native, he came to the United States in 1990 as a professional skateboarder and first encountered capoeira in a workshop in Texas. After his first class he was intrigued; after he encountered Vieira’s teachings he was hooked. “His classes are just amazing, first because of the kind of person he is—for him it’s always about becoming a better human being,” says Campos. “He is such an example of humility; when he is teaching all the passion for life and capoeira comes out. He gives it all and demands the same.”

Campos’ sunny studio in the Heights, a culturally diverse area of Houston, features a colorful, wall-sized mural that tells the history of capoeira. The school’s students hail from Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, Canada, France, the Philippines, Venezuela, and Belize. They come for a variety of reasons—for fitness or self-defense, or to be part of an exciting dance art—and spend a good deal of time learning to play traditional instruments as well. Campos infuses the spontaneous spirit of capoeira into his teaching. Unlike in traditional martial arts, testing is not a rigid procedure. “Our testing process is more of a celebration,” he says.

Vieira and his colleagues regularly visit to offer master classes. “Jelon carries 45 years of experience in capoeira and it is an honor to be his student,” says Campos. “It’s a great treat for all of us to have him sharing his knowledge and wisdom with us.” The school also offers classes in samba and Portuguese. “Samba is always part of capoeira,” Campos says. “You will find most schools offer classes; it’s part of who we are as Brazilians.”

Campos, who is known as “Gringo” within his community, says that nicknames are part of the capoeira tradition. “I know intuitively when a student is ready for their nickname. That’s an important day. I try to choose a name that fits, and I wait for it to come to me,” he says.

Campos is deeply connected to Houston’s lively dance scene and he and his students often participate in contemporary and world dance festivals. Modern dancers are even known to give his classes a try from time to time. The form is not unlike contact improvisation, where support and interaction take on an exciting element.

Last fall Campos brought capoeira back to its street roots when he hosted a festival, “Samba Night on the Plaza,” where 3,000 people gathered to listen to samba music, watch capoeira, and sample Brazilian food. “I felt so proud to be sharing my culture,” says Campos, who is planning a second festival in March.

Though Campos is proud of what he has achieved in Houston, he stays connected to his mentor. The two travel between the United States and Brazil, continuing to learn and teach this unique art form. “It’s about being alive every second,” says Vieira.

Both men agree that capoeira is a philosophy of life, but Campos takes it even further: “Jelon has said this before and I completely agree—with time you become capoeira.”