Brick on brick in a magic design, His eyes filled with cement and tears
May 17, 2013 9:22 AM   Subscribe

Released in 1971 at the height of the Brazilian dictatorship, dedicated to the bittersweet struggle of those exiled to freedom, Construção was Chico Buarque's most stylistically adventurous studio record, and by many accounts, his masterpiece. posted by Potomac Avenue (12 comments total) 22 users marked this as a favorite
 
Highly recommended reading: this comment on Songmeanings that translates the title song into English:

In english, the whole lyrics must be a kinda like that:
(warning 1: I don´t work with translations and have no formal education in this area;
warning 2: that´s a free translation. I tried to keep the original sense, but that includes a lot of interpretation;
warning 3: the lyrics are amazing in portuguese for the many forms to see them, in english it might have lost a lot of it´s best)

"He made love that time like it was the last time
He kissed his woman like it/she was the last (it´s nor clear whether he´s talking about the "last time" or the "last woman")
And every child of his like he was the only one
And went down the street through shy steps
Climbed up the construction (building) like he was a machine.
Made in a base four solid walls.
Brick on brick in a magic design
His eyes filled with cement and tears
He sat to rest like it was Saturday
And ate beans with rice like he was a prince
And drank and hic-cupped like he was a castaway
And danced and laughed like he was listening to music
And stumbled in sky like he was a drunk man
And floated in the air like he was a bird
And smashed against the ground like a flaccid package
And agonized in the middle of a public street
And died on the wrong way disturbing the traffic.

He made love that time like he was the last one
He kissed his woman like she was the only one
And each of his children like he was the prodigy one
And crossed the street with his drunk pace
Climbed up the construction like it was solid
Made in a base four magic walls
Brick on brick in a logical design
His eyes filled with cement and traffic
And sat to rest like he was a prince
And ate beans with rice like it was the best
Drank and hic-cupped like he was a machine
And danced and laughed like he was the next one
And stumbled in the sky like he was listening to music
And floated in the air like it was saturday
And smashed against the ground like a shy package
And agonized in the middle of a castaway street
And died in the wrong way disturbing the public.

He loved that time like he was a machine
Kissed his woman like it was logic
Made in a base four flaccid walls
And sat to rest like he was a bird
And floated in the air like he was a prince
And smashed against the ground like a drunken package
And died in the wrong way disturbing saturday"

Then there´s a final part recorded which is:

"For the bread to eat, for this floor to sleep onto
The certification to be born, the concession to smile
For letting me breathe, for letting me exist
May God pay you back

For the free cachaça* that we have to swallow
For this smoke, disgrace, that we have to cough
For the swinging scaffolds from which we have to fall
May God pay you back

For the crying woman to praise us and spit on us
For the flies to kiss us and cover us
And for the peace which, at last, will come to redeem us
May God pay you back."

* cachaça is a kind of distilled alcoholic drink, kinda similar to vocka.

What do I think the meaning is: all 3 paragraphs speak of a man falling from the top of a building under construction and I tend to belive they are 3 different men under 3 different circumstances.

The first, a man who loves his family and tries to get the best from his hard life, but life itself is too hard for him. As he tries to deny reality, he stumbles and falls accidently (as he dances, so, as he was trying to cheer himself up), dying in the street. But as the last verse says, for everybody else, his death means nothing but a dead body disturbing the traffic.

The second man seems to drink and cheat on his wife/woman; I´m not sure what´s the meaning of the fact that the walls are "magic" - is the construction imaginary? Maybe he isn´t even a worker there, he just climbed it to eat and drink and ended up falling - accidently like the first one, but for being drunk. Maybe falling from a construction is just a metaphore, for all I care. Anyway, he dies in a "shy" manner, which seems to disturb the public ("the crowd"). Were they expecting some spectacle?

The third man seems completely numb. He loves like a machine, kisses his woman because it seems right, builds flabby walls (maybe for doing things so "auto-pilot"), falls and dies disturbing people´s saturday, when they should only be concerned about resting.

The additional verses could be related with the military dictatorship in Brazil, in which people were forced into a hard life with no freedom and always threatened. Many people were tortured and "disappeared" during that time for being against the regime, so Chico, ironicly, thanks them for letting him live his life - full of misery, like the common men who die falling from the construction -, but enphasizing, "the last thing I can believe is that there will be some sort of divine justice. May God pay you back for what you´ve done".

Anyway, it´s a trully amazing song, really hard to translate and even harder to analyze, but I hope my translation will help people who wondered what he was singing here.

posted by Potomac Avenue at 9:34 AM on May 17, 2013 [2 favorites]


The beautiful bit that may not come through in translation is that he is also rearranging many of the same words from paragraph to paragraph, creating a very poetic hallucination in the process.
posted by tsuipen at 9:42 AM on May 17, 2013 [1 favorite]


"Calice" is also a fantastic veiled political allegory by Chico Buarque.
posted by pxe2000 at 9:52 AM on May 17, 2013 [1 favorite]


There is an amazing version of "Construção" by Argentinian rocker Fito Páez and Mexican orchestra and choir.
posted by Deep Brazil at 9:59 AM on May 17, 2013 [1 favorite]


About the lyrics for Construcao - most Brazilians come into contact with this song in Portuguese classes in school, because every last word is a proparoxytone.
posted by gertzedek at 9:59 AM on May 17, 2013 [3 favorites]


Here's the full album on Grooveshark.

Not speaking Portuguese I don't understand the lyrics at all, but the music is great. I love this.
posted by Pruitt-Igoe at 2:12 PM on May 17, 2013 [1 favorite]


I translate Portuguese into English for a living, and Construção stands as an impossibility. It really is an extraordinary song, and it is a pity that it defies decent translation.
And since we're posting Chico songs, I'll give you my second favorite (Construção is my absolute favorite): Geni e o zepelim.
posted by msali at 3:00 PM on May 17, 2013 [1 favorite]


Thanks for this post! There is so much information in it that it is a little overwhelming to digest. Here's my best attempt at a summary of what I think is so extraordinary about Chico Buarque and the song Construção:

1. Chico was courageous and ingenious in dealing with government censors during the Brazilian dictatorship, which was at its most repressive moment in the late 1960s/early 1970s.

He managed to get songs released that, if you read between the lines, were very clearly anti-dictatorship, like Cálice, which feigns being a religious song in order to use the double meaning of "Chalice" (Cálice) and the command form of "Shut up!" (Cale-se). The bible quote of "Father, taking this chalice from from me..." became understood as "Father, take this gag order from me..."

Here's a video of him moving from microphone to microphone, as the military censors up in the mixing booth order that his mics are turned off. They were told they couldn't sing the lyrics, so Gil and Buarque just sang gibberish instead.

2. Construção doesn't use double meanings in the same way as Cálice, but in interviews, Chico coyly claimed that the song was simply "a word game" where he told the story of a construction worker's last day architecturally, with certain words like bricks, and others like the supporting girder in the middle of each phrase. By moving the final words around from verse to verse, the narrative crumbles, so that other meanings of "construction" emerge. Not only is it about the construction of the text, and the construction worker's life being narrated, but also the idea of Brazil at the time being a repressive political construction that, in Buarque's view, was much more fragile than it was purporting to be.

3. Another interesting angle is the fact that, just a few years after the heyday of bossa nova in Brazil, and while bossa nova was becoming so popular around the world, this song can be thought of as a powerful critique of it. After the 1964 coup, the breezy hipness of bossa nova was thought by many to no longer resonate with more radical times.

Bossa nova was sometimes described as "apartment building samba," coming from the high-rise apartment buildings in richer beachfront neighborhoods like Ipanema. Then Buarque comes along and writes a song that begins like a bossa, but it is joyless and mechanistic. Then it turns noir, and tells the story of an alienated worker who falls off of the building he is helping build but will never be able to enter after it's done.

It happens on a Saturday, which is a white-collar day off but not for manual laborers, and when he falls from the scaffolding into the street, the middle-class only cares about the traffic jam his death causes, preventing them from getting to the beach. It's a sweatshop-style argument that uses bossa nova sounds in order to indict the genre, and the upper-middle class associated with the genre.

4. Critics have talked about the question of whether he fell off the scaffolding, or whether he jumped. It gives me shivers that Buarque embeds the answer to that question in the vocal melody itself, which, if you convert the rhythm into footsteps, implies that the construction worker desperately ran several steps before jumping. The proparoxytones on descending pitches can be heard as the moment of his fall, over and over.
posted by umbú at 9:06 PM on May 17, 2013 [5 favorites]


Here is Charles Perrone's translation from his great book Masters of Brazilian Song 1965-1985:

He loved on that occasion as if it were the last
He kissed his wife as if she were the last
And each of his sons as if he were the only one
And he crossed the street with a timid step

He climbed the construction as if he were a machine
On the scaffolding he built four solid walls
Brick on brick in a magic design
His eyes numb with cement and tears

He sat down to rest as if it were Saturday
He ate rice and beans as if he were a prince
He drank and wept as if he were shipwrecked
He danced and laughed as if he heard music

And stumbled in the sky as if he were drunk
And floated in the air as if he were a bird
And ended up on the ground as a flaccid bundle
He agonized in the middle of the sidewalk

He died on the wrong side of the street
disturbing the traffic


He loved on that occasion as if he were the last
He kissed his wife as if she were the only one
And each of his sons as if he were the prodigal
And he crossed the street with a drunken step

He climbed the construction as if it were solid
On the scaffolding he built four magic walls
Brick on brick in a logical design
His eyes numb with cement and traffic

He sat down to rest as if he were a prince
He ate rice and beans as if it were the greatest
He drank and wept as if he were a machine
He danced and laughed as if he were next

And stumbled in the sky as if he heard music
And floated in the air as if it were Saturday
And ended up on the ground as a timid bundle
He agonized in the middle of Shipwreck Boulevard

He died on the wrong side of the street disturbing the public


He loved on that occasion as if he were a machine
He kissed his wife as if it were logical
On the scaffolding he built four flaccid walls
He sat down to rest as if he were a bird
And floated in the air as if he were a prince
And ended up on the ground a drunken bundle

He died on the wrong side of the street disturbing Saturday
posted by umbú at 9:15 PM on May 17, 2013 [1 favorite]


Never heard of Chico Buarque until this post. After which, I stumbled upon something published the same day: a short review of a novel by Buarque. Published in the UK and titled (in English) Spilt Milk.

Great post. And comments, too. Thanks.
posted by Mister Bijou at 12:21 AM on May 18, 2013


This music is impossible. Quitting my job and giving up the theater to dedicate my life to understanding this music.
posted by artof.mulata at 3:58 AM on May 18, 2013 [2 favorites]


Here’s my best shot at a walkthrough of the song, drawing on Perrone and Behague:


The first verse is a more straightforward story of the last day of a construction worker’s life. Musically, it has a stark, joyless bossa base. There is a contemplative space between the sung lines for the events to sink in.

“As if it were” (como se fosse) acts like a steel girder through the middle of each line. The words at the ends of the phrases end up being treated like bricks, their order moved around from verse to verse, scrambling the meaning.

The moment that the construction worker falls into the street, everything changes musically. Dissonant horns sound the traffic jam below, and the music becomes urgent, huge and cinematic.

The story is no longer about an individual, and is now about the surrounding city as well. See the change in how the word “shipwrecked” is used:

Verse 1: He drank and wept as if he were shipwrecked
Verse 2: He agonized in the middle of Shipwreck Boulevard


At the same time, the narrative becomes more jumbled and poetic. Things are coming undone. The rearrangement of last words reinforces this.

Verse 1: On the scaffolding he built four solid walls
Verse 2: On the scaffolding he built four magic walls
Verse 3: On the scaffolding he built four flaccid walls

In the last verse, the harmony vocals become more dense and dissonant, while the contemplative space between the sung lines disappears. The construction is imploding.

In the transition from construção to deus lhe pague, the orchestra is almost mocking.

The upper-middle class numbness to injustice is reinforced by the lyrics of the adjoining song Deus lhe pague, which bitterly uses a kind of prayer to “thank” the haves for the crumbs they give (and refuse to give) the have nots.
posted by umbú at 9:08 AM on May 18, 2013 [2 favorites]


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