MORTAL COMBAT

There are no words to quite describe the experience of witnessing capoeira for the first time in its full, breathtaking, vibrant form, but I will do my best. The jogo, or dance, begins with the berimbau, the Brazilian instrument that mimics the snake's rattle. The beating of the drum ensues, as speed gains and the capoeiristas come together in a face-off within the circle around which an enamoured crowd gathers, clapping their hands and murmuring a chant which only serves to heighten the intensity of the atmosphere. At first, there is only motion: smooth and sinewy are the arms which circulate wildly throughout the air, legs pacing side to side as the balance shifts and the capoeiristas engage in motions I can only describe as being symmetrical, each dancer shifting or contorting his frame to mirror the other. The drum beats harder, the rattle becomes louder, the hands clap thunder murderous to the bodily senses, the chants sound stronger, and the capoeiristas, agile and seamless in their dance, become swifter and harder, pressing their frames forward and lifting off their heels in spherical motion. They leap into the air, mounting themselves on one hand or head, as the picture in front of us becomes a blurr of kaleidescopic motion, tamed savagery, and cunning choreography. Beads of sweat mount the foreheads of the capoeiristas, rivulets dripping down their bodies as each muscle gleams in stoic solidarity. The kicks are astounding in their prowess- a single strike threatens to knock the aggressor unconscious, the leaps are gravity defying, the spins dazzle in their smooth agility...all one can do is get lost in the artistry of the dance, the spectacle that plays before their glistening eyes...

Well, I can say I am a fan- classes start promptly on Monday.