Return to the Avenida: Part 1

A lot can change in 7 years, but one thing remains the same –  the 7 year itch is real.

Do I return to the Samba Avenida or not?

Is my time as a professional Samba dancer up, or can I push myself one more time to train like an athlete and perform at the world’s biggest outdoor festival, considered by many as the Olympics for Samba dancers?

The last time I performed on the avenue, known as the Sambadrome (or Sapucai by locals), was in 2019 as a Muse in the top division of Rio Carnival for one of Rio’s most traditional Samba schools, Imperio Serrano. It was my second time as a Muse (the first being in 2017 for Estacio de Sa, Rio’s very first and oldest school), and both experiences were extremely challenging and stressful, and left me not wanting to return again to perform at such a high level and under such intense scrutiny  (if you haven’t yet read my previous Ebooks, they will give you context about the experiences and my long history with Rio).

Over the past decade, I have also performed many times as a destaque (highlight) on a float, as well as in the general aisles, but I have never performed as a Passista – a member of the only team of professional Samba dancers who represent the art of Samba in the parade.

The main reason is that up until recently,  it was a rarity for foreigners to be involved in Carnival, let alone at such a high level, and it took a lot of pre requisites (such as  being able to speak fluent Portuguese, be living in Rio, and being able to dance Samba well) to convince the samba school to accept a foreigner as a Muse.

The passista aisles were off limits to foreigners as they were solely for dancers who lived in the communities (favelas) of the associated samba schools and rehearsed all year round with the bateria (drum squad).

Since Covid and the rise of social media, Carnival has changed dramatically, and many foreigners now are able to arrive in Rio a few months prior to Carnival to train with the passista aisles and perform as part of the group, although there is still some pushback from the locals about this, which is why until now I haven’t pursued this position.

As a Muse, you are alone in front of a float, and responsible for bringing charme, beleza and simpatia to the parade (charm, beauty and warmth/interaction with the audience). You are expected to dance and sing the school’s theme song, but you are not expected to Samba the entire length of the avenue. You are still required to attend the school’s street and quadra (home base) rehearsals to practice the song, dance to the live drumming and connect with the community, but you are essentially performing on your own during the parade and have more time to include other elements of performance such as posing and parading as you essentially have more space to move.

Another plus is that you have more say about your costume and can work together with a personal atelier to design something to fit both the school’s vision and your comfort. The cost of being a Muse is much higher than a passista (dancers from the communities do not pay for the position of passista but some are required to pay for certain costumes depending on the school/event), however a Muse pays for her position and costume, and it’s a lot.

During the parade, the passistas have very limited space in comparison to a Muse and need to have excellent spacial awareness and peripheral vison so as not to bump into each other. They must always stay in formation to keep their lines and make sure the group ‘evolves’ down the avenue in sync. Moreover,  it’s absolutely essential to have incredible cardio fitness to Samba for most of the 1 hour- long parade. If you don’t Samba, you are yelled at by not only your aisle director and fellow dancers, but even the general public watching!

Despite being part of a team, there is rivalry amongst passistas to appear on camera, or to gain a position on the ‘ponto’ (the outside of your line so you can be seen more), and therefore recognized in the group and by the school. This is even more difficult to achieve whilst wearing incredibly heavy, at times ugly and uncomfortable costumes (a fact I will never understand as wouldn’t you think you’d put your best dancers in the most flattering and comfortable costumes to showcase their skills?!).

To be able to shine despite all of these circumstances truly proves your skills, worth and status as a passista, but also increases the pressure and competitiveness amongst your fellow team members.

Another polarizing factor that has started to appear post Covid is that foreigners are thought to be ‘invading’ Carnival, and the general consensus from Brazilian passistas is that they cause chaos in the aisle as they are more focused on having their photos taken, aren’t singing and dancing the whole time, can’t keep up fitness-wise and generally don’t look the part as they haven’t rehearsed enough in the hot, humid, rainy conditions of Rio’s summer to prepare them for all kinds of situations that may arise during the actual parade.

Finally, they drop in for a moment into a culture, environment and essentially ‘sporting club’ that they are not a member of, perform for themselves and then exit straight after Carnival, often never to be seen again (or until the same time the following year).

Considering all of this, why should I return now, after a 7-year hiatus and at 44 years of age, when most of the professional dancers are half my age?  Wouldn’t that be throwing myself into the gauntlet and exposing myself to yet again more criticism?

After many years of being invited by my carnival director and encouraged by my colleagues (and declining!), and many attempts to convince myself I am done with performing at Carnival, I finally accepted the invitation to perform with one of Rio’s top Samba schools, Vila Isabel, as a passista in the 2026 Carnival.

Was it a HELL YES decision? HELL NO. lol. It was a huge exercise in self-belief, discipline, overcoming my insecurities and fears, and a daily reminder of my WHY.

Why am I accepting this invitation? Should I just do it for the ‘gram’ and more followers, just to show that I’ve done it? Or for continued credibility, as this is my career and I feel the need to show I’m still relevant and prove to the industry, my students, colleagues, and myself that “I’ve still got it”?

Why do I even continue to be in this world of Brazilian Samba after 17 years in business and 23 years going to Rio? Why do I return annually to the City of Samba, when I’ve been so many times and invested so much of myself and my finances into the culture and art form? When I’ve suffered and continue to endure so much criticism, comparison and discrimination in a culture that is not my own, but one I have thoroughly studied and lived and breathed for over half of my life.

To be honest, the only answer I have is that I still feel a deep, past life, soul connection to the vibrant sound of the drums, the magnificent beauty of Rio, and the femininity and freedom I feel when I dance Samba, but it’s like any love affair with its extreme highs and devastating lows.

But am I capable of achieving this at this stage in my life, in this constantly evolving world of Samba, Carnival and social media, where nowadays the criticism is instant and the pressure much more as a foreigner performing a cultural dance at a highly revered and sacred event?