Anavitória at Espace Lumen, in Brussels, Belgium.
Voz e Violão world's tour, an extremely intimate experience
Despite the repeated difficulties we encountered recharging the battery of our electric car in Belgium, we still decide to head in the direction of Ixelles to make the best of the situation. We arrive at the venue one hour late, where we are warmly welcomed in Portuguese by whom I believe might have been Felipe Simas, Anavitória’s manager.
While we had reserved our seats on the mezzanine, we are escorted to the stalls to some seats in the immediate proximity of the stage. We sit to enjoy an intimate show. The small concert hall is nearly full. A smell of old, humid theatre invades the air, reminding me of my childhood’s ballet classes in a decadent music school.
I burst into tears three times throughout the soirée. The first time is at the sound of Explodir, the first song we hear at Espace Lumen. It must have also been the relief of finally reaching our destination. We had made peace with the fact of not seeing the show — yet, I still had a tiny hope of making it to Brussels, a flickering flame in my heart.
Ana and Vitória, and again Anavitória, choosing each other everyday
Explodir tells about how being in a relationship should be about choosing the other everyday, at every moment. This conscious choice coexists with the haunting feeling that it might all be over someday.
“E a gente se escolhe todo dia/ E eu te escolheria mais milhões de vidas/ Porque uma só é pouco com você, amor/ Eu quero tudo o que eu puder viver, amor” (“And we choose each other every day/ And I'd choose you over a million lives/ Because one life is not enough with you, love/ I want to experience as much as I can, love”). And yes — it definitely was the refrain to push me to tears.
They casually play barefoot (as usual) rocking a coordinated blue outfit by Candy Brown. The two meninas de Tocantins have learned to share their conversations and jokes with the audience, that feels free to interact. The complicity of these two long-time friends, artistic companions and housemates, is palpable. While Vitória does not play any musical instrument on stage, she appears to extensively use and modulate her voice as if it was a musical instrument.
The artistic duo described the thrill of the first date of Voz e Violão in São Paulo back in February 2022, a candlelit show on the occasion: "We met our audience again, we heard the sonorous bubble of everyone singing along, we got goosebumps, we were completely idiotic, we chattered non-stop (literally, like cog rattles), we chopped off a cuticle of our longing for you and we felt life getting back on track, as if we had never left. As if these two years were two days off.”
Ana passes from the guitar to the piano to play Coração Carnaval. The short lyrics repeats.
Soon Calendário sounds as sweet and outspoken as only a love letter can get. “Não se arrisque em tentar/ Me escrever nas suas melhores linhas/ Eu não preciso de altar, só vem/ Repousa tua paz na minha/ Eu já te disse alguma vez/ Tu tem pra mim o nome mais bonito/ A boca canta ao te chamar/ Teu canto chama o meu sorriso” (“Don't even try/ Writing me your best lines/ I don't need an altar, just come/ Rest your peace on mine/ Have I ever told you/ You have the most beautiful name for me?/ My mouth sings when I call you/ Your song calls my smile”). Ana begins singing and Vitória replies mirroring the experience of a love relationship, until their voices merge into one.
Cecília is the third piece accompanied on the piano by Ana.
Anavitória's love songs for when the timing is all wrong
Back to the guitar, here comes the time of the time of Nando Reis’ Relicário, a wonderfully executed cover that Anavitória included in their 2019 album N,¹ written by the very Reis. I personally do not enjoy covers, except for some very few that end up sounding better than the original version, such as Nirvana’s The Man Who Sold the World, Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah, and possibly MGK’s Misery Business (where Paramore’s still sounds great).
The immense reliquary is the heart that opened up and closed again to carefully preserve the memories of a love that was to last one night (“O horizonte anuncia com o seu vitral/ Que eu trocaria a eternidade por esta noite”). The vases are emptied out of their flowers ("O que você está fazendo?/ Milhões de vasos, nenhuma flor”) — so the phrases of the loved one fade out losing their vibrant colour (“E o que você está dizendo?/ Milhões de frases, nenhuma cor, ôô”). The timing is all wrong — the Moon runs away to let the day rise up so vertically (“Corre a lua porque longe vai?/ Sobe o dia tão vertical”); the morning is dawning, when all I wish for is to see the Sun set (“Porque está amanhecendo?/ Peço o contrario, ver o sol se pôr oh uô uô uô”).
With Dói Sem Tanto, we learn about the choice of letting go of love and prioritising yourself. This is a painful yet reasoned decision, that requires finding the strength and the courage to fight for your personal freedom. “You tell me every second/ That freedom comes from within/ Tell me then: Why do your bonds hurt me?” (“Tu me diz todo segundo/ Que ser liberdade vem de dentro/ Diz então por que tuas amarras me machucam?”). And again: “Don't doubt the love I have/ It's immense and says so much about me/ Your wings are your movement/ I want mine in the wind too” (“Não duvide do amor que tenho/ É imenso e diz tanto de mim/ Tuas asas são teu movimento/ Quero as minhas no vento assim”). On the other hand, the refrain makes us forget about this hard choice soon enough, making it all about falling for the other, revealing your true self.
A promise to meet again with Anavitória in Brussels
After listening to Dói sem Tanto and Fica, the single Pupila offers a playful moment. It is about a huge crush on someone you feel you might have a lot in common with, yet you do not much about. It actually sounds very much like a match between songwriters at a recording studio: “Eu quero dizer pra ele/ Que a rima fez efeito” (“I want to tell him/ That the rhyme worked out”); and: “Viu, o nosso som é parecido/ Será que isso é obra do destino?” (“See, we sound alike/ Could it be destiny?”).
Following Partilhar and Dengo, the closing song Agora Eu Quero Ir feels more like as a promise to meet again in Brussels soon, than a goodbye. The song tells about gradually forgetting about yourself in a love relationship. While initially thinking of being able to recover your identity at any time you want, you soon come to the sad realisation that it is not. “Agora eu quero ir/ Pra me reconhecer de volta/ Pra me reaprender e me apreender de novo/ Quero não desmanchar com teu sorriso bobo/ Quero me refazer longe de você” (“I want to go now/ To recognise myself again/ To relearn about myself again/ I don't want to fall apart with your silly smile/ I want to remake myself away from you”). Control and emotional abuse are masked as love, with the result of completely destroying your sense of self (“Tu me diz todo segundo/ Que ser liberdade vem de dentro/ Diz então por que tuas amarras me machucam?”).
A successful tour for the Brazilian expats, and not only
Extremely grateful for having managed to experience Anavitória live, we make our way back to Luxembourg as it drizzles, only after an exquisite falafel menu with a big portion of frites from the kebab shop next door.
While I enjoyed the selection in Brussels, I hoped to hear more from Cor (2021), not only because I particularly like this album but also because I do perceive this work more mature and refined. The setlists conceived for the European and US tour are nearly identical, proposing a diversified overview of their musical production. Nonetheless, I understand that some choices are dictated by the entourage and the available venue outside Brazil, always in respect of the musical necessities of the songs themselves.
With three sold out shows in London and another in Chicago, Anavitória returned to Brazil after an exciting end of summer abroad. Back to Brazil, the duo recharged their batteries spending some days in their hometown, and playing a set of concerts with the support of the Orchestra Ouro Preto before the end of the year.
Anavitória openly shared the thrill of playing far away from home to a primarily Brazilian audience. It is not the first Latin-American or Italian (that is my actual nationality) concert I attend abroad, and I can confidently say that Ana Caetano and Vitória Falcão were able to recreate a deep feeling of home away from home. Even the few non-Brazilian attendees could clearly perceive how maneiras were these two, while getting carried away by the warmth and intimacy of the session.
¹ N is also the title of a 2006 track from Nando Reis, revisited and recorded by Reis and Anavitória in 2018. Notably, Anavitória played a gig in Madrid with the mestre Nando Reis in November this year.