In 1962, iconic saxophonist Sonny Rollins released his lively anthem “Don’t Stop The Carnival”. Three years later, Herman Wouk published a novel with that title; the author later collaborated with Jimmy Buffett for a theatrical staging. Despite these exhortations, Carnival always stops — for a while at least.
Around the world, Carnival celebrations are held for periods ranging from a few days to several weeks. Regardless of duration, the day the festivities conclude is bittersweet at best. In part this is a function of the bacchanal’s roots in medieval Christianity. Ash Wednesday, the traditional end of the merriment, is an intrinsically solemn occasion. Even for locals who don’t observe Lent, the day marks a return to quotidian cares and responsibilities. The sinking sensation is arguably worse for visitors, for whom the date often marks a vacation’s finish, and a long, uncomfortable journey by air.
Mercifully, cultures that uphold The Tradition tend to cherish other feasts throughout the year. Such affairs rarely attain the same heights (or depths) of Dionysian excess, but they usually have some elements in common with the pre-Lenten party. In this issue, we’ll explore a few of the off-season revels that keep the spirit alive.
The New World’s first Carnival was observed by Spanish colonizers in the 16th century. They brought with them a legacy of extended holidays, many tied to the Catholic ecclesiastical calendar. Pamplona’s San Fermin Festival, with the Running of The Bulls, is probably the most famous example. In communities throughout Iberia, residents take to the streets, honoring their patron saints with music, parades, and delicacies in abundance.
By contrast, La Tomatina, held each year in the Valencian town of Buñol, is a thoroughly secular brand of pandemonium. The messy melee is said to have originated in 1945, when two groups of young men confronted each other for reasons that remain obscure. Manifesting machismo, they grabbed tomatoes from a nearby market stand and hurled them at their foes – a development which seems to have dissolved the tensions. The fascistic regime of Francisco Franco formally banned Carnival six years before, and periodically attempted to clamp down on La Tomatina as well. Since the Generalissimo’s death in 1975, the Spanish government has actively promoted it as a source of tourist revenue. This year’s saucy salvo will kick off on the 28th of August.
It must be said that food fights are occasionally seen during Carnival proper. The Catalan town of Vilanova is some 350 kilometers from Buñol. On the final Thursday before Ash Wednesday, children and teens throw around soft and sticky meringues. Two nights later, adult women and men, organized into groups called banderas, bombard each other with hard candies.
Most of modern Belgium was ruled, for over 150 years, by the Spanish branch of the Hapsburg dynasty. In the city of Binche, Carnival features a friendly brawl with oranges. It is considered good luck to be pelted in this fashion. But whether it leads to a blessing or a bruising, home and business owners are careful to board up their windows before the citric barrage begins.
In 1613, the Spaniard Vasco Nuñez de Balboa led a party of conquistadors across into the dense tropical forests of Central America’s Darién region. Crossing the Isthmus of Panama, they eventually became the first Europeans to view the eastern shores of the Pacific Ocean. In the decades that followed, the fortified town of Portobelo, on the Caribbean coast, became a strategic port for the transshipment of wealth plundered from the empire of the Incas.
Exporting gold and other precious commodities, the Spanish also brought in enslaved Africans to work their colonial holdings. Revolution in the 19th century left the area part of Colombia. After the 1849 discovery of gold in California, American speculators constructed a railway to connect the two coasts. Excavation of the famed canal led the U.S. Government to support a breakaway republic in Panama. (The Canal Zone would remain under American control until 1999 – a continuing source of tension).
For both the rail and canal projects, American developers tended to favor workers from the English-speaking Caribbean. Between 1904 and 1914 some 200,000 Afro-Antillano migrants arrived, doubling the country’s population. About half decided to stay on after the completion of the canal. Despite their crucial contribution to the nation’s prosperity, their descendants often faced discrimination from Panama’s Mestizo majority.
Portobelo’s inhabitants now number fewer than 5,000. No longer an economic hub, it remains a nexus of Afro-Panamanian identity, due in part to the Festival de Cristo Negro, or Black Christ Festival. Held on the 21st of October, the event focuses on El Nazareno, a life-sized carving of Jesus housed in the Church of San Felipe.
There are competing stories about how this imposing effigy came to Portobelo, although most concur that that the figure was created in Spain around 1650. Some suggest that it has bound for the South American mainland when a tempest diverted the vessel carrying it. Another variant has storm-tossed sailors throwing it overboard, and fishermen bringing it ashore. “The Nazarene” is credited with sparing the town when cholera ravaged surrounding communities. Much later, the Puerto Rican singer Ismael Rivera recorded a popular song thanking the Black Christ for curing his drug addiction.
For most of the year, the figure is draped in a dark red robe; during Holy Week, a purple garment is substituted. Regardless of color, each robe is used only once. Featuring gold embroidery and other lush materials, they are donated by wealthy individuals or prominent families. Boxing champion Roberto Duran is said to have underwritten the cost of one displayed in a museum near the church.
After an evening mass, a platform holding the statue is hoisted upon the shoulders of men with shaven heads. They carry it through the streets following a “3 steps forward, 2 steps back” cadence seen in similar processions for Seville to Santander. A brass band plays and people cheer.
Each year up to 16,000 people – devout or simply curious – converge on Portobelo. Some pilgrims walk more than 35 kilometers from the town of Sabanitas. Others trek all the way from Panama City, some 85 kilometers to the south. To expiate sins or give thanks for answered prayers, some worshippers approach the church crawling on their knees or backs, as family members pour hot wax on their bodies.
Despite its pious nature, the event is a celebration of community solidarity. Local vendors sell candles and rosaries. Others offer snacks and ice-cold cans of Atlas beer to relieve the heat of the tropical sun. It is not unusual to hear reggaeton and salsa tunes blasting from those stalls. William Friar, a travel writer who grew up in the Canal Zone reports that “The whole vibe is sort of Spring-Break-With-Self-Flagellation”.
From the Vegas-meets-Pyongyang spectacle of Rio to the exuberant blocos of Salvador da Bahia, Brazil’s Carnival is arguably the most famous in the world. The Tradition is embraced throughout the Federative Republic with such fervor that one might think there would be little energy for partying later in the year. The Festas Juninas make it clear this is hardly the case.
Along with Catholicism, Portuguese colonizers brought Carnival to Brazil during the 1500s. As in Europe, the timing is derived from the liturgical calendar, but the custom of debauchery has never been officially recognized by The Church. By contrast, the festas coincide with the feast days of Saint Peter, Saint Anthony, and John the Baptist, all of which occur during the month of June.
While they are observed nationwide, the celebrations are especially popular in the northeastern states where an arid climate makes for challenging agricultural conditions. Taking place at the start of winter in the southern hemisphere, they can be seen as harvest rituals. Even in large coastal cities, there is a rural feel. Male revelers sport straw hats, women don red checked dresses, and everybody enjoys corn-based delicacies while sipping homemade liqueurs. Some locales feature performances of Bumba Meu Boi, a folkloric drama recounting the death and resurrection of a magical ox.
Musically, there’s plenty of forro, accordion-fueled tunes which, to North American ears, may evoke Mexican Banda. Square dances known as quadrilhas are also popular, while fife bands parade wearing leather hats in a Napoleonic style. Kids enjoy sack races and ring toss games. Those pursuing more adult diversions eagerly await the feast of Sao Antonio on June 13th.
Saint Anthony is often venerated as “the patron saint of lost causes”. Legends of him reconciling couples have led to the belief that he can intercede to improve one’s romantic prospects. In Brazil, June 12th has come to be known as the Dia dos Namorados, or Lovers’ Day. The term is applied to St. Valentine’s Day in other Lusophone lands.
The mirth peaks on June 24th, the feast of São João. It’s a particularly lively, two-day affair in the city of Caruaru in Pernambuco. 2011 brought a record-breaking 1.5 million attendees – an impressive feat for a community with a population less than 1/3 of that figure. Whether Catholic or Evangelical, fervent believers or atheists, the people of Brazil take their feasts very seriously indeed.
John the Baptist has long been revered in the northern hemisphere as well. In colonial Louisiana, his feast day was marked with cannon fire at dawn, noon and dusk. By the 19th century, St. John’s Eve was an occasion for bonfires and dancing along the shores of Lake Pontchartrain and Bayou St. John. The gatherings were long associated with Marie Laveau, the famed “Voodoo Queen of New Orleans”. The custom is still observed by many, but there is no doubt the Jazz Fest is a bigger draw.
COVID-19 exploded in the USA right after the end of the 2020 Mardi Gras season. Cases, hospitalizations, and deaths surged throughout Louisiana and across the country. Jazz Fest, generally held over two weekends in the spring, was cancelled that year. In 2021, the introduction of life-saving vaccines prompted the organizers to announce a delayed festival to be held in October. However, the delta variant put the kibosh on those plans by early August.
Throughout the dismal interregnum, radio station WWOZ did great work raising spirits. “Festing In Place”, broadcast in the region and streamed globally, brought together favorite performances from years gone by. As entertaining and life-affirming as those recordings were, they could never match the intensity in-person sets at the Fair Grounds Race Course, where the festival has taken place since 1972.
The event was joyously revived in 2022. The 2024 version kicks off with four days of entertainment on multiple stages, beginning on the 25th of April. After a pause for the cause, things will start up again the following Thursday, before concluding on Sunday, May 2nd.
Yet there are some jazz lovers who are decidedly not in love with Jazz Fest. Their curmudgeonly critiques follow two main lines of thought. The first is that the outsized influence of Preservation Hall and the Marsalis family have fostered an ossified vision of America’s greatest art form, to the detriment of lesser-known innovators and styles.
Allied to this viewpoint, some complain that a showcase in the city where jazz was born should not feature so many acts with only tenuous links to the genre. Admittedly, Hozier, The Rolling Stones, and Bonnie Raitt, – all of whom will be playing this year – are seldom discussed alongside Ella Fitzgerald or Duke Ellington. Such an argument, however, overlooks the fact that, from the beginning, jazz has influenced, and been influenced by, other forms of popular music.
It is also worth noting the event is official called The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival. Food, folk life, and design are all part of the mix. As in years past, the Fair Grounds will echo with sounds of Cajun acts like Louis Michot, as well as bounce (Big Freedia) and zydeco (Sunpie & the Louisiana Sunspots).
A full listing of the various performances can be found here.
La Tomatina photo courtesy of flydime via Wikimedia commons. Jazz Fest poster by Kellie Talbot, ©2024 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival Foundation, Inc. Other images in Public Domain.
Another fascinating read. I've wanted to go to Jazz Fest, but George Schmidt and the New Leviathan Oriental Foxtrot Orchestra haven't played in a while, and that's who I wanted to see. I met Mr Schmidt at his art gallery a few years ago, that was nice.
Spring break is scary enough, but with self-flagellation thrown in!
Great stuff, as ever!