Those hoping to master a skill might want to avoid Capoeira.
"Perfect Capoeiristas [those who partake in Capoeira] are only utopian creatures; multiple beings with nine lives, nine bodies, nine personalities and impossible commitments to nine masters," writes Mestre Acordeon in his Capoeira: A Brazilian Art Form.
So perfection may rest just barely out of your grasp, but fear not, young Capoeirista, for achieving such excellence is essentially beside the point.
"The impossibility of one person completely capturing Capoeira, yet its potential to be touched by anyone, are part of the balance of power and beauty of this magical art," Acordeon continues.
This mysterious combination of accessibility and elusiveness serves as just one contradiction within this roughly 300-year-old martial art form whose roots are planted in the breakaway slave cities, or quilombos, of Brazil.
The actual act of Capoeira, the jogo de capoeira, is a paradox wrapped inside an enigma as well. As two Capoeiristas exchange combat and defense moves in a perpetual flow, the roda, or the group of fellow Capoeiristas encircling the participants, dance and play music. In fact, the jogo, because of its emphasis on music and rhythmic movements, bears a strong resemblance to a break dancing concert--except for occasionally leaving your opponent bloodied and battered. Even this century's two foremost Capoeiristas, Mestre Bimba and Mestre Pastinha, hold opposing views of what the jogo stands for at its most fundamental level. Mestre Bimba believes "Capoeira is treachery," but Mestre Pastinha maintains that "Capoeira is whatever the mouth eats."
Yet, and get this, these definitions do not even clash; in fact, the sum of these two parts--the doggedness of the combat and the spirituality of the entire enterprise--equals the essence of Capoeira.
Impossible/Accessible? Treacherous/Soul feeding? Finkel/Einhorn? A glimpse into Capoeira's history only intensifies the intrigue swirling around the art form.
When the Portuguese shipped Africans to Brazil to work as slaves in the 18th century, the Africans vehemently sought to retain key elements of their cultural heritage. Although there has been some disagreement, almost every scholar on the subject believes that the martial art combines the slaves' African traditions with the influence that Brazilian culture impressed upon them, making it a distinctly Afro-Brazilian custom.
The most heated argumentation about Capoeira, however, has centered on why it even came to exist at all. A contemporary view asserts that the slaves created Capoeira "out of a burning desire for freedom." Their passion to free themselves from the shackles of slavery--in both the philosophical and literal senses--spurred them on to create a martial art form that summons greater physical and spiritual forces.
Nevertheless, others contend that it merely arose because African men in the quilombos wanted a way to amuse themselves. The jogo allowed these Brazilians to combine three of their favorite pursuits--combat, music and dance--making its development less an act of lamenting their depressed social status and more of a practical outgrowth of the basic human craving for amusement.
Although its origins remain unclear, Capoeira's struggle for legitimacy since has been well documented. The Brazilian government associated Capoeristas, both fairly and unfairly, with thug livin' in 19th century Brazil. The noun "Capoeira" even took on the alternate definitions of "bum," "bandit" and "thief." To rid the country of this "scourge," leaders like Monarch Dom Joaa VI allowed their police chiefs to deport or even summarily execute capoeristas.
The negative connotation surrounding Capoeira ultimately disappeared, though, once Getulio Vargas assumed control over Brazil in 1930. He legitimized the art form throughout the country--going so far as to deem it a cultural expression of the Brazilian people. By validating its existence, Vargas stole Capoeira from the dingy quilombo streets and allowed it to flourish in more savory locales throughout the world--like Fargo, N.D., which today has three martial arts schools that specialize in Capoeira.
With its checkered past, many paradoxes and seductive mystery, Capoeira sucks many of its practitioners in so deeply that they feel the art form has transformed the way they conduct their lives. Still others like Eleanor Bates, who takes a Capoeira class here at Duke, partake in it for less transcendent reasons. As Bates said, "I just really enjoy getting to work on flexibility and acrobatics while having a great time and learning about Brazilian culture."
So, Bates may never be a "utopian creature" who perfects Capoeira, but she, like so many others, has chosen to immerse herself into a world shrouded in delicious mystery.
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