Jorge Ben Jor: “We wanted to show the black is beautiful”

Gil is a nice, intelligent figure. I accompanied him when he was a candidate for mayor and a councilman in Bahia. In the old days, a “concert-rally” was allowed, so I played in his campaign. Then I accompanied Gil as minister of Culture, which to me was perfect.

I stayed a week with him in France [in 2005, in the Year of Brazil, when several artists played in the Bastille and they did a duet of “Filho Maravilha”]. There, I met Gil. I already knew Gil, but there I got to know him better. He's a nice guy, upright, and he's a friend, you know?

Yeah, Gil told me that. I met Gil through manager Guilherme Araújo (1936–2007). Guilherme asked me if I wanted to join the group they were putting together, which had Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa, Caetano Veloso, and Tom Zé, who later came to be called Tropicália.

He said to me: “Do you want to be in it?” I said: “Sure! If they let me, I want to be in it.” That’s when I met Gil. The first time I met Gil was in the Tropicália project.

We had several black idols who were great writers in those days. Black men of great intelligence. Machado de Assis, for example. There’s Abdias Nascimento. They don't teach that in schools. We used to worry about talking without hurting anyone. With just a little ostentation.

I’m not in any movement, no. I think movements adopted me. When there was Jovem Guarda, I was invited by Erasmo Carlos and Roberto Carlos to go (on the TV show).

When there was bossa nova, I sang at Fino da Bossa (TV show), which wasn’t my thing.. Bossa nova, Jovem Guarda, and Tropicália were the three movements through which I passed unscathed.

And, there, the songs could say what I wanted. There was no censorship. So much so that, in the TV show Divino, Maravilhoso!, in which we had two great directors, Antônio Abujamra and Fernando Faro, we recorded without knowing if we were going to have the show, but we went there and sang what we wanted.

Of course, that night is unforgettable. Not just me and Gil, but most of the casting was at the time from Philips/PolyGram. André took everyone, because he had two international guests who were at their peak: Cat Stevens and Eric Clapton.

We went—I mainly went to hear the “God of guitar” Eric Clapton play. André’s apartment—God rest his soul!—was big, but there were so many people that it looked like a theatre. Eric took a blues guitar, metallic. I thought: “He’ll play then.”

Gil and I were strumming two acoustic guitars. André talked to Eric Clapton and he said: “I’m not well enough to play.” Then André said to Gil and me: “Play it so we can hear it.” We did a little show. When the party was over, André said: “Why don’t you do it in the studio?”

Our producer, Paulinho Tapajós—God rest his soul!—was there and two days later, we were in a studio. Because, at that time, only the record companies had recording studios. They didn’t have the technology they have today, when everybody records at home, even in the bathroom.

At Polygram, the studios were busy with other musicians. So they set up an incredible studio, underground, in Central do Brasil (a train station in Rio). It was a marvel. Besides the record—wonderful, modesty aside—that we did, the recording was wonderful because we had to stop.

The technician kept looking at the clock: “Oh, the train is going to come, you’re going to have to stop the recording, because it’s going to move.” The whole studio shook when the train was going by (laughs). It rocked the studio. “Another one is coming in an hour, so let’s move on.” It was like this all night.

It was two days, no stress: two acoustic guitars, a percussion, and a bass. We recorded new songs. At that time, I felt a connection with St. Christopher and made the song called “Meu glorioso São Cristóvão.” I did “Quem mandou (pé na estrada)” there. We recorded the ones we had.

Gil recorded “Nega,” a beautiful song in English. That song, I always ask Gil to play it, we played it very well. It's on an LP that Gil released after that whole rebellion, which made him have to leave here to go to London (the 1971 album Gilberto Gil, recorded in London).

I said: “Another wouldn’t come out the same. It’s no use programming it, it won’t be the same.” It had to be at that moment. We didn’t even do concerts. I think if it wasn’t for Cat Stevens (laughs), who was a nice guy, who looked at everything all the time, and Eric Clapton…

If it wasn’t for them not playing, we wouldn’t have gotten to play together. We’d respect both of them, watch. But they wouldn’t play, so we played and ended up making a record.

Ogum is Saint George. But the name was a surprise. At that time, we couldn’t say: “I want the cover like this.” The record company had a cover production department. It had the photographer, the director, and he was the one who got to choose and show it to us after it was ready. They chose a name. It stuck.

Solta o Pavão was ready. Gil & Jorge was an unscheduled event. Polygram had to release to take advantage of our party’s momentum. It’s not my fault, I was just happy about the sale of the two records. Solta o Pavão gave me a gold record and Gil & Jorge still sells today.

I remember when I met Gil in London. I was on a tour, one of the first times I went to Paris. I had a local producer who worked with the Rolling Stones named Albert Koski. At a show of mine in London, I was with Gil. He was living there.

I said: “Look, I’m here, because I’m doing a concert tomorrow.” I was going to the south of France, it was Summer. And we went to Paris together, we talked, we exchanged ideas. Gil couldn’t come back yet. It was a wonderful talk. We had a lot of wonderful encounters.

Well, another wonderful meeting was last year, on February 2nd (Iemanjá day), we took a dip in the sea in Salvador. Then we went to Gil’s house to eat that wonderful lunch. We stayed there talking, playing a little bit. Gil with his whole family, it was beautiful.

I had a meeting with Gil and he was making a record for her. He wanted a song for her repertoire. I said: “So let’s finish one that we have here and give it to her, she sings very well, she’s a wonderful singer.”

And it came out, “I like her so much / she says she loves me…” (“Ela diz que me ama,” by him and Gilberto Gil). It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

Now I can say, because Gil already talks about it, so does Flora. Flora was with us, as well as a friend of ours who lives in Montecarlo, a very famous woman. Everyone was with us in France. It was something! We were in the restaurant at that alchemist’s house, Nicolas Flamel.

We were in the restaurant, I look, Gil looks, too. We looked at each other and said: “Damn!” I went to the window to see if it was a big screen, but it wasn’t. There was a bunch of alchemists in the street. Yeah. Gil also saw: “Did you see it too?” “Yeah, I saw it.” I went there and there was nobody there.

At that place, there’s a meeting of contemporary alchemists to this day. Every month there’s a meeting there to talk about alchemy, to read alchemy poetry. They only invite people of a very high degree to these events. It wasn’t a meeting day, but what we know what we saw.

Oh, every day. I read every day.