“Why wash your clothes with my name / is my name soap? So why wash your clothes with my name?"

How we made the new version of ‘Porquê lavar roupa com meu nome?’

This new version of ‘Porquê lavar roupa com meu nome?’ incorporates jazz, traditional Irish music and of course, jongo. It is the result of a creative collaboration of musicians from very different traditions and experiences which took place over wine, tea and caipirinha in the long hot summer of 2018. It ought not to work but somehow it does. The most challenging aspect of the process was finding the rhythm, which, for me, has never been a strong point. At one point I tried following transcriptions of the rhythm, but they never quite worked. Was it 6/8, 5/8, in 2, syncopated or something else? The nearest similarity I found was to some Hungarian music. In the end I just had to listen and find the groove.

I have been playing the violin since I was 8 and my training has, until now, been in classical music. Despite always wanting to, I had little or no experience of improvisation. My one foray into other traditions was playing Irish fiddle tunes with my Dad on guitar when I was a kid. Whilst my brother learnt hundreds of reels, jigs and ayres that he can play of the top of his headm no score needed, I, on the other hand learnt a grand total of two. Nevertheless, ‘The Rakes of Mallow’ and ‘The Irish Washerwoman’ served me well in our initial explorations of creating the new jongo.

My Grandad came from County Mayo, the remote west of Ireland, and whilst he wasn’t a musician, Irish fiddle was a way to connect with him after he passed away. Ironically, whilst I’ve travelled the length of Brazil several times, I’ve never been to Ireland. However, this music seems to come naturally somehow. So when asked to improvise on top of the jongo rhythm, celtic sounding phrases emerged which eventually became the fiddle solo heard toward the end of the jongo.

Playing with the jongo rhythm on the pandeiro was really challenging at first. We had one good first attempt where I jammed a version of the Rakes of Mallow along with pandeiro and cajón, compressing the rhythm into the jongo beat. A second attempt with pandeiro and atubaque didn’t work at all. Total confusion. Fortunately, Tsivi Sharett came along with her wisdom and extensive experience in getting classical musicians to loosen up and go with the flow. Tsivi on melodica, and later piano, started putting down a pattern of chords for us to play around. Not long after, Mestre Carlão suggested a tune we made been learning in pandeiro class ‘Porquê lavar roupa com meu nome’. Tsivi figured out that the melody was in a Dorian mode, an obscure key signature found in mediaeval music and some traditional songs such as Scarborough Fair. This helped us work out which notes would work in the violin part. Playing around I found myself incorporating a few notes of the Lark Ascending by Vaughan Williams, in which the violin imitates the bird’s aerial song, fluttering above drone notes and folk tunes which had inspired the composer. It’s a piece I love and have been trying to play properly for many years.

Putting it all together happened in more or less two or three sessions in class with Mestre in Brixton then and at Tsivi’s house. Whilst I was away in Brazil, Tsivi, Tito and Alex had developed a riff to open and end the song. Tito brought chromatic jazz colours and syncopated rhythms which worked very well with the pandeiro. Having absolutely no experience in improvisation or anything like this, Tsivi and Tito gave directions on when to add my bits, and when, more importantly, to shut up and listen.

On the day of the recording, Marc very quickly cut through layers of confusion, nerves and a month’s absence in Brazil (mine) and suggested a structure for us to follow. Most importantly, he stopped our bickering when the 2018 summer heat, egos and rabbit-in-headlights nerves were getting to much. Vitoria stepped in to add a female voice to the vocals. Because of a problem with the microphones, the flute part was dropped on the final version and the violin re-recorded separately. Marc had the great idea of introducing a drone under the violin part, doubling up to make a more meaty sound, which curiously echoes the part of the orchestra in the Lark Ascending. Hearing what we had just recorded in the studio, I realised a bass sound was missing and so Marc’s friend Chris Franck added the funky groove that you can hear on the finished version.

Text by Kezia Lavan