João Nogueira em apresentação no Renascença Clube, 1972, autor não identificado. Acervo Arquivo Nacional
Symptomatic of the fever that had gripped Brazil at the end of the decade, the TV series "Dancing Days" premiered in 1978. Disco music — epitomized by the show's title track, sung by Frenéticas — dominated the radio schedules and store shelves. At the opposite extreme, samba was falling out of favor with record labels. For singer, songwriter, and samba musician — and Méier neighborhood native — João Nogueira, if nothing were done, soon no one would know who Cartola was, and carnival parades would march to the sound of "discoteque."
A devoted Flamengo and Portela fan — and a proud suburbanite through and through —, João Nogueira sought to carry forward the urban samba tradition descending from Estácio. He called himself a "sidewalk sambista": he wasn't born on the hillside favela, but rather in the neighborhood of Méier, Zona Norte of Rio de Janeiro, into a middle-class family. His father, a lawyer and musician — a good one, who played with people of the caliber of Pixinguinha and Jacob do Bandolim —, was a life reference for João, who began "playing around" with music from an early age. With his almost off-kilter way of singing, his velvety deep voice, and a composing genius inspired by the trio Noel Rosa, Wilson Batista, and Geraldo Pereira, João Nogueira won the respect and admiration of samba's greats in the 1970s.
João Nogueira, Wilton Montenegro, s/d - Acervo: Coleção MIS
Whether the dystopia João Nogueira envisioned was an exaggeration or not, one thing is certain: he sounded the alarm and raised his guard. He gathered great masters of samba from Rio de Janeiro and built his barricades out of pandeiro, guitar, cavaquinho, batucada — and whatever else of samba there was —, turning the backyard of his house, at Rua José Veríssimo, 50, in the neighborhood of Méier, into a stronghold of resistance. In January 1979, a cult of Brazilian music was born: the Clube do Samba.
The Clube do Samba followed the tradition of backyard pagodes, which started in the morning and ran through the whole day, —fueled by plenty of beer, batidinha de limão, angu à baiana, and samba of every kind. At its debut, it brought together a hundred singers and songwriters. There was room for the old guard and for the following generations. According to João, the Clube was open "to true sambistas, yes; to bicões, nothing." Beth Carvalho, Martinho da Vila, and Alcione were regular presences, but every now and then names like Cartola, Elizeth Cardoso, Clementina de Jesus, Ivone Lara and Nelson Sargento, Chico Buarque, Clara Nunes, and Roberto Ribeiro also showed up there.
Despite a certain improvised “something,” the association had the look of a serious one, with bylaws, membership cards, an honorary title, all on letterhead paper — even newsletters for its members were made. The Club gained its own history, with openings and closings, changes of headquarters, and even became a carnival block, parading through the streets of Méier for four decades.
A diretoria do Bloco do Clube do Samba,
Ângela Nogueira/Arquivo pessoal
The penthouse where João Nogueira lived, facing the iconic Cine Imperator, also became a meeting place for many music greats, who would come to sing, have a few drinks, and enjoy a feijoada or a caruru, dishes that João himself loved to make. Passing through were Nelson Cavaquinho, Walter Rosa, Nei Lopes, Hélio Delmiro, Joel Nascimento, Zé Katimba, Casquinha, his fellow Portela member, and many others.
João passed away in 2000. But as one of his verses says: "the body death takes away/ the voice fades into the breeze/ the pain rises to the darkness/ the name the work immortalizes." In 2012, the old Imperator was reopened, now with the added title of "Centro Cultural João Nogueira," in tribute to one of the most celebrated artists of the neighborhood.