Toré leverages experimental film techniques in ethnomusicology to understand the immersive experience of participatory musical rituals. Through a case study of the Kariri-Xocó indigenous people of Brazil and their toré ritual, I argue that film can be a uniquely powerful tool for ethnomusicologists to examine and convey the embodied, affective dimensions of musical experience.

Using subjective camera angles, sequencing strategies, and layered sound design, the film draws viewers into the intensity and flow of the Toré ritual while contextualizing its significance within the Kariri-Xocó’s ongoing struggle for land rights and cultural survival. This audiovisual experiment focuses on not only the fact that ritual and musical experiences are multisensory but also that the multisensory type of experiential knowledge allows us to “know” them differently (Gubner, 2018). These questions have guided my postdoctoral research on the relationship between the audiovisual and music.

This research grows from my postdoctoral work on the relationship between the audiovisual and music in the Thematic Project “Local music: new paths for ethnomusicology,” developed by researchers from Unicamp and USP—Brazil.¹ It sets out to discuss questions arising from the work of filming Brazilian popular festivals, celebrations, and rituals in which music-making involves a process of collective musical production, practices linked to what Thomas Turino calls “participatory music” (2008).

The participants’ interactions often culminate in a collective climax or trance, an experience difficult to translate into words. How can film express and communicate this type of musical experience involving all the senses? The research is about experimenting with capturing images and sounds and editing, exploring possibilities of immersion in contexts marked by musical practice.

The initial material that composes the film Toré was captured for another purpose: the production of the series Taquaras, Tambores e Violas. The 26-episode series followed the making of twenty-six Brazilian musical instruments in the context of twenty-six popular events in ten states.² The production was done through Laboratório Cisco production company, located in the city of Campinas, São Paulo, Brazil.³ In addition to the entire process of making the musical instruments, the series filmed various popular festivals and celebrations, which Turino defines as “participatory performances” (2008).⁴

The Kariri-Xocó, an indigenous people from Alagoas, Brazil, live on the banks of the São Francisco River. Dispossessed of their ancestral lands, in 1978, they began a movement called Retomada. In 2015, the Kariri-Xocó retook another portion of their ancestral lands, expropriated throughout Brazilian history. This film follows an immersion day with the Kariri-Xocó chants and dances, called Toré, in the retaken lands.

The place where the film was shot was precisely in the area of land repossession, and the performance of the Toré that was filmed marks a little over two years of occupation, a relatively calm period with a certain stability, without conflicts with the squatters or government agencies. The occupation of the area corresponding to the Três Amores Farm was peaceful. However, the owner went to court with a request for repossession. The Kariri-Xocó lived for months of uncertainty and insecurity until the injunction was overturned in mid-2017.

In April 2023, President Lula signed the homologation document for the Kariri-Xocó lands, taking an important step towards guaranteeing indigenous territorial rights. The retaken lands are now in the possession of the indigenous people.

In anthropological literature, Torés appear as songs and dances performed at different moments in Kariri-Xocó life, both as a religious performance in the Ouricuri secret rituals and the village, as well as in cultural presentations such as “brincadeira” and “folguedo” (Mota, 2005). It is also a common cultural trait of the indigenous people of the Northeast, who are very present in political actions and mobilizations (Grünewald, 2005). The performance in question takes place in this context of struggle and resistance in a territory and “comes to strengthen them,” as several Kariri-Xocó say. This connection between singing and resistance and the context of the retaking is brought up explicitly through the cards that appear at the film’s beginning. 

Although various indigenous groups in northeast Brazil commonly use the word Toré to refer to songs and dances with differences and specificities. Pawanã, one of the Kariri-Xocó leaders, emphasizes the significance of the Toré in connecting the community to their ancestors and their struggle for land. As he explains in the film:⁵ 

To means song, re, sacred. Toré is the moment, we sing when we’re happy, when we’re sad, when we want to talk to those who have gone before… to war, when we want to war… because there are all different types of Toré.

Toré, as a “moment,” connects the ritual with song and dance to the struggle for land. Pawanã was the first person to see the film, and his comment was very significant in this respect: 

Singing to resist, because singing strengthens us. From the moment we sing, we enter into a great millenary connection with our ancestors, with the sky, with the stars, and that’s what strengthens us. […] there, with our songs, our rituals, we managed to keep everything protected, everything peaceful.⁶

Having participated in some Torés in different situations, I have noticed a certain state of immersion and intensity. This state can potentially be achieved through collective singing and dance. It is realized when filming the bodies of those who join the ceremony/ritual. Momentarily, worries dissipate. The high concentration on the singing and dancing activity produces a state or experience of flow.

The image capture during the Toré was done to bring the camera observation closer to the experience of someone participating in the musical performance and accompanying it from the “inside.” The framing was thought to approximate the human perception, known as the “subjective camera.” A fixed, bright lens with a short focal length was chosen so that the viewer’s attention would be directed to what the photographer wanted to focus on. This means that only what is chosen in the frame is in focus, with everything else out of focus. There is a perception of things happening outside the focal point, but one cannot clearly distinguish them. The lenses used (35 mm and 50 mm) work very well for close-ups, and close-ups can be seen unless we distance ourselves from what is being filmed.

Editing the film began with a set of questions. How can the film communicate the intensity of the musical experience that involves all the senses? How can we access the dimension of the experience in the ritual from the sound layer in the film? How can we work with time in the editing to build the idea of immersion? How can we construct the intensity of the ritual? How can we convey the context of the Toré performance to avoid an exoticized representation of the indigenous singing and dancing?⁷

To simulate immersion in the musical performance, we privileged the use of sequence-plans when there was music and dance as a way to play with time in the editing. Working on the intensity of the performance was also a starting possibility; one way to bring the idea of intensity to the editing was to choose shots that involved total involvement with the music. 

From my point of view, the most significant sequence is the chant master concentrating on beginning the evening ritual.⁸ The camera takes an extreme close-up of the maraca (Amerindian gourd rattle) shaking in his hand. The camera then moves up to his face, which is concentrated, and moves down again to the maraca, which is still shaking. When it moves up once more to his face, Pawanã is singing with his eyes closed, extremely concentrated (Figure 1). 

Another way of working with intensity in the film was to build the montage of the final singing sequence into a crescendo. For example, at the beginning, few voices respond to the choir. At the end, we hear a dense texture of voices of men, women, and children as they dance. Another important aspect of this construction was using a superimposed image effect at the film’s end. This effect lasts just under twenty seconds (Figure 2). For the directors, it was intended to create the sensation that the ritual goes on for many hours. The indigenous people experience a flow through song and dance, as described by Turino (2008: 4).

From the beginning, we knew the importance of the sound layer in the film. In this respect, the idea was to explore a way of bringing out the dimension of the experience—immersion and intensity of the collective ritual. The post-production work was very important for reinforcing the immersive experience through sound. The first guideline for Augusta Gui, the sound designer and mixer, was to emphasize the sound of the action at the center of each scene. For example, when night falls, a woman prepares rice porridge for everyone present. She stirs a large pot supported by bricks on top of a small fire (Figure 3). This sound was relatively low in the recording but became clearer in the final treatment. Ambient sounds were amplified in volume and density. For the final Toré, we proposed that Augusta amplify the sound of the image we see. This was to convey a sense of the experience lived during the Toré. Depending on where you are positioned, the listening experience is different.

This audiovisual experiment focuses on not only that ritual and musical experiences are multisensory, but also that the multisensory type of experiential knowledge allows us to “know” it differently (Gubner, 2018). What kind of ethnography can be done with these kinds of images? What experience is thematized, and how can it be accessed through the film? What risks are posed for anthropological research when it is decided to be experimental —broadening the canons? Through this experimentation with audiovisual media, we hope to contribute to ongoing discussions in ethnomusicology and anthropology about the possibilities and challenges of representing multisensory, embodied experiences through film.