Revelers sing during a street carnival parade
Rio Carnival isn't just about the samba school parade, as proven by the racket of drumming, singing, dance steps, water trucks, and plenty of loud chatter that fills much of the streets. Carioca revelry began in the streets and never left.
The first records of carnival blocos in the city date back to the mid-19th century. They were essentially anarchic groups of revelers, who took to the streets in an indiscriminate way. At the beginning of the following century, however, certain organizational traits began to bring rhythm to the libertarian chaos of the early blocos and cordões. These were times of segmenting the revelry. Large carnival societies and ranchos held more organized parades. Cordões were the epitome of confusion and unrestrained merrymaking. The blocos, in turn, stood somewhere in between the two.
Foto: Diego Carriço - Carnaval de rua - 2019
Old blocos, such as Cacique de Ramos and Bafo da Onça, are still part of the traditional parades through downtown Rio to this day, as are other highly traditional groups — such as Cordão do Bola Preta. Others ended up as ancestors of samba schools, such as Baianinhas de Osvaldo Cruz, considered a precursor of Portela.
Céu na Terra Block - Santa Teresa - Rio de Janeiro
For a certain time, the taste for street blocos cooled off. But, over the last decade, with the revival of Rio's street Carnival, the blocos multiplied and once again took over the city, with their mischievous, multifaceted, unpredictable style.
Photo: Thiago Diniz - Children play at Carnival - 2013
This is what the blocos and cordões that still follow, in the invented and reinvented cartography of the city, the thread of tradition, reaffirm. The names already give clues to the playful spirit that sums it up: "Loucura Suburbana", "Orquestra Voadora", "Amigos da Onça", "Cordão do Boitatá", "Céu na Terra", "Prata Preta" and many others. Just like the stories and tales that gave rise to them, they mirror the irreverence that is the trademark of the celebration.
Foto: Diego Carriço - Carnaval de rua - 2019
The "Bloco das Carmelitas," for example, is said to have emerged around 1990, when a group of pickup soccer players who used to kick a ball around where the Parque das Ruínas is today, in Santa Teresa, saw a nun jump over the convent wall to join in the Carnival festivities. Other blocos, meanwhile, choose to flaunt the connection between their names and the city's history, as is the case with "Escravos da Mauá" – a title that harks back to the markets where enslaved people were sold in the 18th and 19th centuries, which stood on the streets of the Saúde neighborhood, near Praça Mauá and Morro da Conceição.
Not to mention those blocos that, being so traditional, have lived to tell the story of the city, like the century-old Cordão do Bola Preta, founded in 1918. This is also the case with the more than 80 years of the “bate-bolas,” known as “clóvis” – a corruption of the English clowns – which date back to the Folia de Reis celebration. The clóvis mix revelry and terror, causing fascination and fear wherever they go.
Foto: Diego Carriço - Carnaval de rua - 2019
Every street, in every part of the city, carries with it a varied set of sounds, and each of these sounds tells part of the spirit of Carnival in Rio de Janeiro. Diverse in their origins, street blocos are not limited to a single pattern, nor do they follow the same roteiro. On the contrary: the menu of genres caters to a varied audience. It ranges from samba to sertanejo, passing through funk, forró and maracatu. There's even a bloco that dabbles in rock. And while some of them are popular enough to draw crowds, others have a more intimate feel, change their name every year, and don't announce the time or place where the procession sets off.
But if, in some year, the expected bloco doesn't happen, there's no problem. You can simply create a new one. That's how, for example, in 2006, the Cordão do Boitatá gave rise to the Cordão do Boi Tolo, known as the bloco "that never ends," due to the long hours it spends parading through the city's streets.
Foto: Diego Carriço - Carnaval de rua - 2019