Rodolfo Reichmann
On a quiet and sunny morning, I walk through Lisbon and hear the sounds of a Bossa Nova coming from around the corner from the Plaza do Carmo. As I turn, I see a slight man clothed in a gray knit cap, thin sunglasses and an old gray lined canvas jacket framing his tan skin sitting on the steps in front of the ruins of the Convento do Carmo. His dark blue jeans hang down to his old brown leather wing-tipped shoes. Even sitting on an old piece of cardboard on the cold stone steps of the church, I can tell he can’t be taller than 5 feet and maybe 100 pounds on a full stomach. Sammy Davis, Jr. meets an old Leonard Cohen. I notice he has the most jerry-rigged P.A. set up I’ve ever seen. He has no mic stand. Only a cheap old flimsy fold-out metal music stand that he leaves unsplayed standing upright, which somehow delicately holds his microphone in place. The instrument and mic cables are old and duct-taped in places to keep the signal flowing to the tiny beat-up amp that looks like an old transistor radio. His nylon-stringed guitar seems to be barely in one piece. It all works, though, and that’s what counts. And he can play. He can really play.
I studied classical music and piano 12 years in music school, conservatory, but all my life I love jazz. I teach myself jazz. I love classical also and it give good technique for jazz piano.
I come from rich family but my dad lose everything. It was tough. Even he sell the piano to pay his bills when I had 14 years. One friend lend me one piano but I play most at school. All the day. All the day. My mom and dad die when I have 17 years. Tough days. Sometimes I’m on the street, but I always think about jazz. This dream catch me.
In 1991 I come to Portugal for this. I play in Porto many years. I play near the river in the day and in the wine factories at night. I made a lot of money. I play with 400 or 500 people every night. I see a lot of crazy shit. And I drink whiskey every night and smoke a lot of pot. I play in Paris, Basel, Freiberg, Madrid all of Europe.
In 1998, I go back Brazil. I use that money to buy my house in Brazil. I play one month on cruise boats from Santos, Brazil to Lisbon. Lisbon to Santos. The music, Ok, but I like because I met one woman and it was good. Then I play this private club in Brazil. You know the rich golfers club. Strange guys, but ten years I play there and happy times and weddings. Good money.
I record 6 albums. Six jazz albums and study with great guys. Victor Assis Brasil and Amilton Godoy. Great jazz men. Lots of work, but not my dream. My dream of course, Carnegie Hall and Madison Garden.
In 2010, I go to New York for three months. I pay to study English to get my visa. Money is everything. You show you will pay and you get the visa. West Village was my paradise. I want to die there. I play all the small bars. The culture is so strong for jazz. When I take the subway from the Bronx to the West Village I feel the vibrations of Thelonious Monk and Charlie Parker when I get close to the Village. I come back in 2011 for three months again. I play the bars and outside in Union Square with great guys. Good times. Great times. I start to cry when I have to leave. No more visa. I try to come again in 2016, but they don’t give me the visa. I was very very angry my friend.
So I try another plan. Still this dream. I come to Portugal again in 2019 for get my EU passport. Crazy. I play in the street. Nobody here heard Brazilian musician in the street. I make good money again. I play some hotels and restaurants but nobody wants jazz. I start to play jazz and they stop me. It kills me.
And I live in some shit places. No kitchen. I live with robbers and bad guys. I rent a room in the apartment now, but the other guys are all robbers. It’s full of robbers and thieves. They don’t care about nothing. I don’t have a sink to brush my teeth or a how do you say place to cook, stove.
It’s horrible. I think I’m going to buy a camper van. No more trouble.
I left Brazil because I had this dream to play with the best jazz players. I have a beautiful home in Brazil, but I left because of this dream. I’m crazy, but still with 63 years I have this dream.
I’m a better player now. I don’t lose nothing. I do hand exercises every day. I play in the street two hours in the morning – guitar, harmonica. I practice piano some hours in the afternoon. Then I play some more in the street and two more hours practice piano every night. In the street sometimes can be a headache. Same place every day. Many people know nothing about music.
Last year I was playing this song, and a woman came up to me and asked if she could play something. I let her play. It was Carly Simon and James Taylor’s daughter. Sally Taylor. I love the music from James Taylor. Shower the People you love with love. Great song.
But my date in April 28 this year 2023 to get my visa. I pay a lot for this also. Then maybe I buy a camper van and get out this apartment and travel in Europe to play. Then three more years for the passport in 2026.
I do everything for music. For me music is everything. It’s not my choice. The music choose me. It can’t go out. No exorcism by the priest. If they take the music I will die. I must follow. The dream is the boss my friend. I have no option. I will die with this dream when I have 90 years.