In Brazil’s volatile context of hosting the World Cup and Olympics, economic crisis, and neo-fascist politics, a brass band movement in Rio de Janeiro that originated in the street carniva... Resumo No contexto volátil do Brasil, como sede de megaeventos esportivos, com crise econômica e política fascista, o movimento carioca de fanfarras, originado da revitalização do carnaval de rua n...

In 2022, Prime Minister of Portugal António Costa of the Socialist Party held a celebration of Brazilian music at his residence in Lisbon for the Bicentennial of Brazilian Independence a month before the presidential elections between Bolsonaro and Lula. In contrast to Bolsonaro’s right-wing rallies, Costa featured acts that were feminist, antiracist, and leftist. In this diplomatic event, musical performances criticised Bolsonaro’s Brazil and supported Lula’s campaign, imaginatively aspiring for an alternative Brazil despite the organizers’ directive not to protest. I show how the performers strategically and affectively advanced a comprehensible political critique in this crucial moment of Brazilian political history.

Consensus decision-making has become increasingly popular in social movements and other community projects, ideally amplifying feelings of investment and ownership in a project and its goals. While use of consensus has been notable in amateur musical spaces, this article examines the consensus process of a professionally oriented alternative brass band in the United States, exploring whether consensus can be effective, efficient, and just in a group that requires frequent executive decisions to function. Based on my seven years of participation in the band and an examination of the advantages and disadvantages identified by members, I contribute to an emerging interest in ensemble governance and argue that despite the many benefits of consensus, the process can also fail to build full solidarity and equality between members. I suggest that those seeking to decolonise or horizontalise traditional hierarchical leadership models must engage with the many pitfalls that unconventional governance structures can create.

At Oakland’s Circle Left contra dance, I notice my hands fumbling as I take “hands four” with my partner and our neighbour couple to form one of many foursomes in a long line of contra dancers. My partner and I place our hands facing palm up expecting to find a hand to hold facing palm down. In “traditional” contra, it is the person in the “lady” role who places their hand palm down on the hand of the person in the “gent” role. But this time it is I, a cisgendered male,¹ who am in the wrong, since we decided before the dance that I am dancing the “raven” part, traditionally the “lady,” and my partner is dancing the “lark,” traditionally the “gent.” I correct myself and place my hand upon theirs. When I adopt the “raven” role, thirty-three years of contra dancing, that is, thirty-three years of gendered behaviour that have contributed to how I have learned to be male, are slightly difficult, but, as it turns out, not too difficult to unlearn. As we advance down and back up the hall, I make other, less minute mistakes, some that have to do with the new role expectations and some that are just part of a customary failure at executing dance moves perfectly. Like “traditional” contra dance, Circle Left (Figure 1) is a communitarian, participatory activity, and forgiveness is quickly given with a smile.

Despite dire predictions that participatory musical traditions would inevitably decline in capitalist modernity in which producers are increasingly distinguished from consumers, Rio de Janeiro’s street carnival revival, on the rise in the past two decades, shows that participatory music can thrive under capitalist relations. Much of the street carnival revival celebrates the free events in the streets as forming an uncommodified, musical social movement that presents an alternative to the expensive, presentational, and commercialized samba school spectacle. Theories of musical participation (Keil, Turino) likewise depict participatory musical practices as emancipatory and oppositional to capitalist relations. The vitality of street carnival, however, depends on oficinas, or for-profit classes that teach a wide variety of Brazilian and international styles for students to play with professional teachers in participatory carnival ensembles (blocos). In probing teachers’ “pedagogical labor,” this article portrays oficinas as comprising a “capitalist participatory music industry.” By offering a case study on a carnival brass band community turned activist musical movement whose growth has been fueled by oficinas, I show, however, that the commodified status of oficinas does not necessarily deprive them of the capacity to build an anti-capitalist musical movement. These musicians navigate, take advantage from, and challenge capitalist realities.