Minister of sound
Brazil's Minister of Culture, Gilberto Gil, has a CV that new, live album, Eletracustico, recorded in Rio
includes a spell in jail and an expansive pop career.
As he prepares to play London, Gil tells Sue Steward
why his politics and his music are in perfect harmony
last year to a home crowd during a break from
duties. It sits with a slower, polemical version of
Lennon's 'Imagine', and a hauntingly beautiful
samba-reggae take on Marley's Three Little
Birds', which he sang at his inauguration.
One of the crucial issues in Brazil today is the
crime and poverty that plagues the 'favelas' or
ghettoes. Gil's reggae influences have earned
him respect among favelas' heavily black
communities, and he sees his goal as being To
help build on the potential of those with no
access to the arts, the excluded people. His
funds have recently been quadrupled by a loan
from the Inter-American bank, and he beams as
he says: 'Now I can subsidise the hundreds of
new record labels in the independent music
sector - a staggering 30 per cent of the market.'
This figure reflects a flourishing local scene
where home-made electronic music has become
the music of deprived youth. 'We are planning to
link the favelas to each other, to the Ministry,
and to contacts abroad, and to provide
equipment, internet links and
funds,' he enthuses.
Connecting them together
will eventually bring
them out of ghetto.
Young rappers,
including MV BILL
and Marcelo D2,
who recently
rocked
London's
Marquee club, are
being co-opted.
As Brazilians are
increasingly visible
in the electronic
dance music
explosion - appearing
here on TV ads and
dropped into films - the
ex-Rio favela kid, Seu Jorge,
graduated from rapping in City
of God to singing electro-samba
versions of Bowie hits in Wes Anderson's
recent film The Life Aquatic.
Two years on, does Gil still like the job?
'I'm very happy with it,' he purrs. "People see
me as somebody who has already made it, part
of the system, but also someone who challenges
the establishment,' he says. "The Tropicalia
scene was split in that same way - it's the
paradox of success.'
Gilberto Gil, Mon 11 Jul, London Coliseum,
St Martin's Lane, Trafalgar Square, WC2
(020-7632 8300). Eletracustico (Warner
Brothers) is available now.
n January 2003, Brazil's new President,
Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, made the
extraordinary move of appointing a pop
star as Minister of Culture. Not just any
old pop star, though. Gilberto Gil is a
Brazilian legend whose record sales run
into millions. He has a French
knighthood for arts, and cabinets full of
Grammys, including the 2003 Man Of
The Year award given after his
inauguration as Minister. Now 63, he has a
youthful, yoga-toned physique, short, springy
dreadlocks and a beatific smile. The breaking of
protocol is the style of the new government,' he
joked back then. Although he wore a white tunic
and trousers to the inauguration, two years on,
elegant black suits are his uniform.
It's not just his pop career that makes Gil an
unusual choice for Minister. He also has a prison
record. In 1969 he was jailed for two months
with his musical partner, Caetano Veloso, by
Brazil's ruling military dictatorship. They feared
our bad influence on the youth,' Gil explains,
referring to their psychedelic songs and wild
hippy outfits. They said, "OK, jail or exile," and
we chose jail. When they came out, they fled
the country on the proceeds of a benefit
concert, spending the next two years in London.
Unlike fellow pop philanthropists such as
Bob Geldof and Bono, Gil now operates from
inside the heart of the establishment, a lifestyle
that comes at a price. He lives apart from his
third wife, Flora, and their two small children,
who are in in Rio, taking only Maria, his
twentysomething daughter by his second wife,
to live and work with him in the nation's
political capital, Brasilia. He goes home at
weekends. His days are spent in his office,
meeting ambassadors, foreign ministers,
Brazilian mayors and musicians with begging
bowls, but he is also President Lula's favourite
travelling companion - an articulate, cultured Gil left his first job, in an office, grew an Afro,
asset who speaks several languages. A charming, wore kaftans and concentrated on music. He
good-looking, dreadlocked Minister who plays moved to Sao Paulo and landed a weekly TV
guitar is an irresistible publicity draw.
show. After the enforced spell in London, Gil
I've gone from being the stone thrower to the discovered Bob Marley and introduced reggae
glass,' he adds, in typical abstract language. to Brazil. The first ripples of Gil's music reached
That's the way life is, moving from one state to
Britain in the early Eighties, with the gorgeous,
another. I've swapped clubs and stadiums for light reggae song, "A Toda Menina Baiana' (To
offices and palaces.' He combines his political All The Bahian Women). It is reworked on his
and musical lives in a unique way. In meetings
he pronounces dramatically, like a gospel
preacher. His official appearances often involve
music - at the first Anglo-
Brazilian Literary
Festival, in 2003, he ditched his prepared speech
and danced a samba. He is surely the only
Minister who travels with a
guitar case and a
pocketful of songs at the ready. At a UN
conference last year, he persuaded Kofi Annan
to play congas, while he sang a couple of Bob
Marley songs. Next week, on Bastille Day,
President Lula will join President Chirac for
Gil's Paris concert with an acoustic quartet.
The changes in Gilberto Gil's life have been
remarkable. My late father was
descended from slaves,' he says
flatly, 'My mother's side is
indigenous, Indian.' His
father was a doctor, and
the family, based in
Bahia, in North-East
Brazil, were
relatively wealthy
and highly
cultured. His
musical career
began at the age
of 10. I asked
parents for an
accordion, and
played local folk
music.' Then he
taught himself guitar
and started to write
songs. In the Fifties, bossa
nova 'really turned me upside
down, with its amazing words and
weird beat'. At Salvador University he
met Veloso, and heard Beatles records for the
first time. We thought, we've got to shake this
scene with some rock'n'roll.'
CHRISTOPHER PILLITZ/NETWORK
Gilberto Gil in
Brazil, May 2004