Berimbau, atabaque, pandeiro

Vik Kouassi
2 min readApr 10, 2021

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As you walk down the street you see a crowd has gathered. A roda is about to begin.

Photo by Paula Rey on flickr

The capoeiristas are dressed in uniforms. White trousers which gleam in the summer sun and dark green t-shirts with a special design to celebrate this specific event, that has culminated in this day. To this moment. They are stood in a circle with an ominous space between them where it will take place. You are at one end and at the other extreme, you find the trio of musical instruments who will lead the activities and the humans that will support them.

First is the berimbau, a great crossbow-like instrument that dictates a strong metallic rhythm. A monarch taking her throne. Next is the atabaque, a drum standing at about three-quarters of the height of the one who brings out its booming sound. After is the pandeiro, which looks like a tambourine at first but then proves itself to be more regal in this circle. The instruments have now taken their positions at the court. Now fully in session. A silence passes for a moment.

The berimbau is lifted to the highest point. Its metal string is struck with a stick with enough strength so that its voice carries over the crowd to announce the affairs but delicately enough to afford it the respect it deserves.

Don chi-chi din don don,” it cries. A call that has journeyed from Africa to Brazil and bellows now in Europe too. The ‘mestre’ who handles it has galvanized the wisdom over the years to know how exactly to manage this balance. Next is the atabaque which booms out a steady independent beat alongside it. The pandeiro joins in interweaving within this rhythm.

Once satisfied, the berimbau nods to invite two players to come. They nervously approach and sit facing each other in front of the instruments. One does the sign of the cross to pray for safety. They dwell within the rhythm for some time and once they are allowed to set off, they cartwheel into the circle. They immediately explode large kicks against one another, narrowly missing each other’s heads or torsos multiple times but always with the rhythm. The hands in the circle clap over the beat and sing back to the song being sung by the mestre. You begin to also clap your hands slowly at first and faster as you try to find the rhythm. Before you know it you are also singing along.

Oh sim sim sim, Oh não não não

The spirit has got you now.

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Vik Kouassi
Vik Kouassi

Written by Vik Kouassi

Londoner of Ghanaian roots now based in Switzerland. Kind of an onion.

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