The boy and the maestro

Ana Maria Machado

The Boy and the Maestro Illustrations Vinicius Sabbato

The Boy and the Maestro

Ana Maria Machado Illustrations Vinicius Sabbato

The Boy and the Maestro

Copyright © Ana Maria Machado, 2021 All rights reserved to EDITORA FTD S.A. Rui Barbosa, 156 — Bela Vista — São Paulo — SP Zip Code 01326-010 — Phone (0-55-11) 3598-6000 www.ftd.com.br CONTACTS director Ricardo Tavares de Oliveira publisher Isabel Lopes Coelho foreign rights Tassia Oliveira foreignrights@ftd.com.br

Ana Maria Machado is the author of 10 novels, 12

books of essays and over 100 childrenʼs and young adult literature titles. Translated into various

languages and published in 28 countries, she has

received many awards, including the Machado Assis

award for the whole of her work, the Hans Christian Andersen award, the Prince Clause award, the Casa de las Americas award, and three Jabuti awards.

Married to a musician, she has three sons and two grandsons. She lives in Rio de Janeiro.

Vinicius Sabbato has worked as an art director in ad agencies since 2013. A self-taught draughtsman, he started working as a professional illustrator in 2017 and has worked mostly in the advertising industry, collaborating on various campaigns.

To maestro Paulo Moura, in memoriam. And in memory of José Maurício Nunes Garcia, Carlos Gomes, Chiquinha Gonzaga, Ernesto Nazareth, Patápio Silva, Pixinguinha and so many other builders of musical bridges.

Preface As a musician, I feel at home in Ana Maria Machadoʼs books. In them,

one always finds pianos, songs, lullabies, and music boxes. She knows

that music reaches places that words cannot reach, those things we feel that we consider inexpressible.

In this story, the maestro takes Teleco to meet Mozart and his songs.

They will help the boy get to know himself better, as well as understand what he thinks and feels every day.

This is a Mozart that marked José Maurício Nunes Garcia, the composer,

conductor, harpsichordist, violinist and multilingual man of letters who

enchanted emperor Dom João. This prestige also brought along with it some prejudice: José Maurício was Black. A brave man, he founded a free

school and had among his pupils Francisco Manuel da Silva, the author of

the National Anthem and the teacher of Carlos Gomes, who was Black and came from a humble background just like José Maurício. Already at that time, Brazilian musicians taught one another the tambourine and Mozart.

Earlier, during the gold cycle, the most important musicians were Black,

in a country of slaves. The brutality of slavery in the past and current ignorance has reduced our Black musical foundation to so-called popular music.

Our Black musicians were geniuses in the African and European

traditions, creating music that won over the world, even while facing

difficulties and the efforts to erase the color of our exemplary ancestors.

This book shows the paths between boys and masters, favelas and

theaters, yesterday and tomorrow; it shows repertories, and it shows

Mozart. People and searches that are so good to know. And never forget.

Ricardo Prado, maestro and writer.

8

T

he boy lived in the favela on the hill. The maestro would go there occasionally to play clarinet in a choro circle. But they had never noticed one another.

However — ah, however… as went one samba song — there was an afternoon when the maestro arrived early, much before the other musicians. For this reason, he caught the end of the rehearsal of the childrenʼs drum section. And he paid attention to that boy that was so little who played tambourine just like a grown-up. Or like a child, like one who was just playing. As if he were not even concerned with that. But also, as if all rhythms already lived inside him, since forever.

“How old are you?” he asked when rehearsal was over.

“Eight.”

“Teleco is already an ace, donʼt you think?” the drum leader right by his side said, complimenting him. “Like father like son. He is big Biéʼs son, did you know?”

You could tell. The boy had a gift. As if an angel or fairy had awarded him when he was born. Had it been in antiquity, in Greece, someone might have said that he was a present from Apollo or from Orpheus, protectors of musicians. There in the favela on the hill, certainly some “pai de santo” knew which “orixá” had chosen Teleco to use his gifts in that way, coming from the heart.

10

12

The maestro was thinking about this when he had an idea. He talked to the boyʼs mother and made an invitation: “Take Teleco to the Municipal Theater this week. Any day. We are having rehearsals every afternoon. I think he would enjoy seeing it.”

“What do you think, sir? Do you think I have time to stroll around, go to the theater, this type of thing? I have a family to support.”

“But on Sunday you can, canʼt you? And then you can watch a real concert. I will leave two tickets in my name at the entrance.”