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    Antônio Meneses, Lyrical Brazilian Cellist, Is Dead at 66

    He began playing as a child and quickly found success for his technical command and, as one critic put it, his “thoughtful elegance.”Antônio Meneses was 10 when he and his four brothers were recruited for the Rio Municipal Theater Orchestra. Their father, a French horn player in Rio de Janeiro, decided that his children should play string instruments to increase their employment odds.By the age of 24 Mr. Meneses had exceeded his father’s expectations: He had won two major international cello competitions, including the Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow, and was on his way to making recordings of Brahms and Richard Strauss with Herbert Von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic. He was later recruited by Menahem Pressler to become the last cellist in the late 20th century’s greatest piano trio, the Beaux Arts Trio.Mr. Meneses, who became one of his generation’s premier cellists and an important figure in the musical life of his native Brazil, died on Aug. 3 in Basel, Switzerland. He was 66.His death, in a hospital, was confirmed by his agent, Jean-Marc Peysson. The Brazilian news media said the cause was brain cancer.With his serious, concentrated playing, his singing tone, his sure technique and his absolute dedication to the musical text, Mr. Meneses marked himself as a musician’s musician.He was sought after by conductors like Zubin Mehta, Claudio Abbado and Andrew Davis, and by recitalists like the great Portuguese pianist Maria João Pires, with whom he recorded Brahms and Schubert, as well as the pianist Cristina Ortiz, his compatriot, with whom he recorded a memorable Villa-Lobos disc.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Silvio Santos, Provocative Brazilian Television Host, Dies at 93

    He was best known for the long-running variety show “Programa Silvio Santos,” on which he charmed his audiences with gimmicks and showcased a range of performers.Silvio Santos, a Brazilian media mogul and television personality who built one of the country’s biggest entertainment empires, died on Saturday in São Paulo. He was 93.His death, in a hospital, was caused by bronchopneumonia related to a case of H1N1 flu this month, according to a statement by SBT, the television channel he owned.Mr. Santos spent more than six decades in front of the camera. He created and hosted several popular variety shows, including Brazil’s homegrown version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.” His best-known show, “Programa Silvio Santos,” has been on the air since 1963. (His daughter Patrícia became the host in 2021, although he continued to appear occasionally.)Every Sunday night, viewers watched Mr. Santos shimmy with dancers, hand out prizes to a mostly female audience, and showcase a range of performers, including circus acrobats, drag queens and hypnotists.“It wasn’t Sunday without Silvio Santos on the television screen,” said Geraldo Alckmin, Brazil’s vice president, who knew Mr. Santos personally. “He would become part of every Brazilian family in this fun, relaxed way.”A natural showman, Mr. Santos came to be known for his 100-kilowatt smile and his playful interaction with audiences. Dressed sharply in a custom-made suit, he would walk onstage to the tune of a catchy jingle, posing a question to the audience: “Who wants money?” In one of his signature gimmicks, he fashioned paper planes out of cash and launched them into a cheering crowd.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Algumas Últimas Notas da ‘Voz de Deus’

    Milton Nascimento, uma divindade musical no Brasil, colabora com a baixista, vocalista e produtora Esperanza Spalding em um álbum que contempla o efeito da idade sobre a arte.Em 1955, Milton Nascimento tinha 13 anos, estava aprendendo a cantar e, para sua tristeza, chegando à puberdade.“Quando eu comecei a ver que a minha voz estava engrossando, eu falei, ‘eu não quero cantar mais, não’”, lembrou Nascimento, uma das figuras musicais mais importantes do Brasil, em entrevista na semana passada. “Porque os homens não têm coração”.Ele disse que chorava quando um canto suave e expressivo entoou na rádio. Era Ray Charles, cantando “Stella by Starlight”. “Depois que eu ouvi isso, eu falei, agora dá para cantar’”.Nas seis décadas seguintes, floresceu uma das grandes vozes da música, uma força etérea que percorria oitavas com emoção e energia, deslizando perfeitamente entre um barítono aveludado e um falsete celestial.A voz singular de Nascimento e sua ascensão às notas mais altas ajudaram a influenciar uma geração de artistas. Em entrevista, Paul Simon descreveu sua voz como uma “mágica sedosa”. Philip Bailey, cantor da Earth, Wind & Fire, comparou-a com “uma bela praia brasileira”. Sting disse que havia “verdade na beleza” dela.No Brasil, onde a voz de Nascimento conduziu desde músicas introspectivas àquelas icônicas, a nação cunhou uma metáfora ainda mais grandiosa: “a voz de Deus”.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    A Dreamlike Collaboration From Milton Nascimento and Esperanza Spalding

    Milton Nascimento, a musical deity in Brazil, collaborates with the bassist, vocalist and producer Esperanza Spalding on an album that contemplates age’s effect on art.In 1955, Milton Nascimento was 13, learning to sing and, devastatingly to him, hitting puberty.“When I began to see my voice deepening, I said, ‘I don’t want to sing anymore,’” Nascimento, one of Brazil’s most important musical figures, recalled last week in an interview. “Because men don’t have heart.”He was crying, he said, when a smooth, soulful croon came from the radio. It was Ray Charles singing “Stella by Starlight.” “After I heard that, I said, ‘Now I can sing.’”Over the next six decades blossomed one of music’s great voices, an ethereal force that spanned octaves with emotion and verve, gliding seamlessly between a velvety baritone and a celestial falsetto.Nascimento’s unique sound and ascent to the highest notes helped influence a generation of artists. In an interview, Paul Simon called his voice “silky magic.” Philip Bailey, a singer in Earth, Wind & Fire, compared it to “a beautiful Brazilian beach.” Sting described it as “truth in beauty.”In Brazil, where Nascimento’s voice led singalong anthems and emotional ballads, the nation settled upon an even grander metaphor: “the voice of God.”Nascimento has long been one of the biggest acts in Brazil, while also influencing musicians around the world.Larissa Zaidan for The New York TimesWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Brazil’s Pabllo Vittar is the World’s Next Big Drag Queen

    São Paulo’s main avenue was packed this month with thousands of people draped in the yellow and green of the Brazilian flag and captivated by a commanding figure atop a tractor-trailer rigged with speakers.From above, the scene could have maybe passed for one of the many political rallies held in the same spot by former President Jair Bolsonaro, the Brazilian far-right leader who has infamously declared that he could never love a gay son.(Though, to be fair, the enormous rainbow flag would be a giveaway.)It was, in fact, one of the world’s largest Pride parades, and the person atop the sound truck was Phabullo Rodrigues da Silva, 30, the gay son of a working-class single mother in Brazil’s north.Yet everyone in the crowd knew him as Pabllo Vittar, a 6-foot-2-inch drag queen in a glittering cutoff Brazilian soccer jersey and shredded jean shorts — one of the biggest pop stars in this nation of 203 million.“It’s so beautiful to see you in yellow and green!” Pabllo Vittar shouted to those in the crowd, many wearing fishnet and G-strings. She had called on the revelers to wear Brazil’s national colors to reclaim the Brazilian flag from Mr. Bolsonaro’s right-wing movement. “Let’s dance!”RuPaul may still be the queen of queens, but the heir to the global crown has arrived.Fans and digital influencers visiting the Brazilian drag queen Pabllo Vittar, center left, in her dressing room before a concert.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘They Shot the Piano Player’ Review: Taking on a Bossa Nova Mystery

    The pianist Francisco Tenório Júnior, on tour in Argentina during the right-wing dictatorship of the 1970s, vanished. This animated feature picks up the trail.Javier Mariscal and Fernando Trueba’s “They Shot the Piano Player” is an astoundingly vibrant animated project, fitting for its subject matter: the history and legacy of Brazilian bossa nova told through the story of the disappearance and presumed death of Francisco Tenório Júnior, one of the genre’s most celebrated pianists and composers.The film, actually a documentary set in a fictional context, begins in 2010, with Jeff Goldblum voicing the made-up music journalist Jeff Harris, whose article on bossa nova in The New Yorker lands him a book deal and a trip to Rio de Janeiro to investigate the fate one of the genre’s most celebrated pianists.Unlike the last Mariscal-Trueba collaboration, the Academy Award-nominated Cuban drama “Chico and Rita,” the story at the center of “They Shot the Piano Player” is all too real. Tenório Júnior vanished in Argentina during the height of a military dictatorship known for erasing people who didn’t embrace its politics. Equally real, and vivid are the over 150 interviews that Trueba conducted for the film, with friends, family and colleagues of the pianist, some of whom are the best-known names in bossa nova history: João Gilberto, Caetano Veloso, Milton Nascimento and more.The interviews appear, largely unaltered, in animated form, and getting to hear these musicians remember Tenório Júnior in their own words against the backdrop of the film’s gorgeous art direction brings them more to life better than a standard live-action talking head interview ever could. Even something as simple as the painted Arizona sunset descending behind Bud Shank as he recalls seeing Tenório Júnior play adds extra depth to his words.Goldblum’s character works as a surrogate for Trueba, jetting across the world to get to the bottom of his story and enthusiastically asking questions. But his character is never as interesting as the tale he’s trying to tell, and his vocal interjections — when Jeff Harris becomes, unmistakably, Jeff Goldblum — can be distracting. The film’s most memorable moments, by far, are when it just lets the music play on.They Shot the Piano PlayerRated PG-13 for language and suggested violence. Running time: 1 hour 43 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Pictures of Ghosts’ Review: Layers of Love and Memory

    The Brazilian director Kleber Mendonça Filho draws on fact and fiction in this image-rich documentary that moves fast and far, but always returns home.Early in “Pictures of Ghosts,” an exhilarating documentary about specters onscreen and off, the Brazilian director Kleber Mendonça Filho, pulls out a VHS tape. It’s of a 1981 TV interview with his mother, Joselice, a historian who died at age 54. In close-up, she discusses gathering information left out of history, an approach that her son has embraced here. After the tape abruptly cuts off, he says in voice-over, “it may seem like I’m discussing methodology” — as if speaking now both for his mother and for himself — “but I’m talking about love.”Love suffuses “Pictures of Ghosts,” a cleareyed, deeply personal and formally inspired rumination on life, death, family, movies and those complicated, invariably haunted places we call home. Divided into three fluidly edited sections that build into a cohesive whole, the movie draws from both original and archival material, including photographs, newsreels, home movies, amateur films and images sampled from Mendonça Filho’s features. The results unfold at the crossroads of fiction and documentary, a space that Mendonça Filho knows well. “Fiction films are the best documentaries,” as a character in a movie says here.A film critic turned filmmaker, Mendonça Filho is best known for his own fictional movies, most notably “Aquarius” (2016). A nuanced, idiosyncratic drama set in his hometown, Recife, a northeastern port city on the Atlantic coast, it centers on a music critic (Sônia Braga), her circle of intimates, the enviably ocean-facing apartment in which she lives and the gentrification that she resists. It’s about stasis and change, memory and loss, art and commerce as well as a struggle for sovereignty. The building’s owners are trying to force her out, which means that it’s also about money and power — all themes that haunt “Pictures of Ghosts.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber?  More

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    Carlos Lyra, Composer Who Brought Finesse to Bossa Nova, Dies at 90

    When Brazilian musicians fused samba with jazz and classical influences in the 1950s and ’60s, he was among the first, and the best.Carlos Lyra, a Brazilian composer, singer and guitarist whose cool, meticulous melodies helped give structure and power to bossa nova, the samba-inflected jazz style that became a worldwide phenomenon in the early 1960s, died on Dec. 16 in Rio de Janeiro. He was 90.His daughter, the singer Kay Lyra, said the cause of his death, in a hospital, was sepsis.Alongside Antônio Carlos Jobim, Mr. Lyra was widely considered among the greatest composers of bossa nova. Mr. Jobim once called him “a great melodist, harmonist, king of rhythm, of syncopation, of swing” and “singular, without equal.”Mr. Lyra was part of a loose circle of musicians who in the 1950s began looking for ways to blend the traditional samba sounds of Brazil with American jazz and European classical influences. They often gathered at the Plaza Hotel in Rio, not far from the Copacabana beach, to discuss music and hash out ideas.One of those musicians, the singer and guitarist João Gilberto, included three of Mr. Lyra’s compositions — “Maria Ninguém” (“Maria Nobody”), “Lobo Bobo” (“Foolish Wolf”) and “Saudade Fêz um Samba” (“Saudade Made a Samba”) — on his “Chega de Saudade” (1959), which has often been called the first bossa nova album. Mr. Lyra released his own first album a year later, titled simply “Carlos Lyra: Bossa Nova.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber?  More