From Sonoro to Aparelhagem
a history of Belém’s early
sound systems 1940-1970
Belém do Pará is the undisputed sound system capital of the Brazilian Amazon, with a vibrant scene that rivals that of Jamaica, Colombia, or Mexico.
Belém is home to 1.5 million people and more than 700 formally-registered sound systems. While the largest and most futuristic of these so-called aparelhagens have attracted a lot of international attention, the origins of this phenomenon are often overlooked.
Documentation is limited. Family photos are scarce.
But many people who grew up in the 1940s and 50s remember the precursors to today’s sound systems. Their recollections – together with what faded photos, rusty equipment, and scratched records remain – help us piece together an untold story of working class creativity that played out on the jagged edges of 20th century modernity.
“I ask that you put an end to an abuse practiced daily by the profiteers of amplifiers and loudspeakers installed at various points around the city.”
1940s
One of the earliest documented precursors to today’s aparelhagens are the serviços de alto-falante — “loudspeaker services” — that were installed in public squares, markets, and storefronts throughout Belém. For a fee, these street corner “radio stations” read out advertisements and announcements, interspersed with recorded music.
As journalist and announcer Edson Matoso explained,
You had people on the outskirts of the city who didn’t own a radio. And the sonoros catered to their needs and desires.
However, loudspeaker services were often viewed as a nuisance by the authorities. By 1941, they’d already become so common that the director of Belém’s only radio station filed a complaint with state authorities:
The owners of the instalações sonoras do not subject their announcers to tests or evaluations, and so improper, incorrect, and at times crude announcements are read by people who are practically illiterate, leaving the passerby uninformed and, what’s worse, the visitor with the impression that radio broadcasting in Brazil is anarchic.
Ten years later, in 1951, Belém’s police chief ordered the city’s approximately 60 loudspeaker services shut down at the request of the Mayor.
But the city’s bocas de ferro (literally, “iron mouths”) were never silenced for long.
1950s
By the early 1950s, some “sound entrepreneurs” began specializing in festive events, hiring out their picarpes (the Brazilian rendering of “pickups”) for birthday parties, social dances, and Carnaval balls.
These so-called sonoros de festa were modest by today’s standards. But as Otoniel Fialho, owner of the sound system Tuxaua, recalled, they got the job done:
[In the 1950s] we played events using one record-player, a 50-watt tube amplifier, a 15” speaker, and a metal projector for outdoors. That was back in the days of 78 rpm records with one song per side. With a few dozen of those, we’d play the entire night long. Forró, xaxado, bolero, rumba, mambo…
By the end of the decade, many self-taught technicians were building sound systems that accommodated two record-players, more powerful amplifiers, and custom speaker cabinets.
Sonoros were no longer just anonymous rigs hired in place of a live band. Many had developed followings of their own. Among the pioneers were sonoros like Hércules, Sínter, Voz do Trabalhador, Monte Carlo, Big Ben, and countless others whose names are now lost to time.
“We used to hire a boat to take us to the ships that anchored in the middle of the river so we could buy the latest records from abroad…”
1960s
During the 1960s, Belém’s sound system scene came into its own, with dozens of social clubs, workingmen’s associations, and dancehalls hosting dances every night of the week.
The key ingredients that could make or break a sound system dance were the charisma of the emcee or locutor, and the musical selection, which was overseen by the controlista or selector.
Some dancers developed a taste for fast Caribbean genres like merengue, porro, paseíto, and cumbia. Sound systems that catered to this audience went to great lengths to get rare records from abroad, and to keep them a secret from the competition. These recordings — like the dancers they attracted — were not welcome in all social clubs, however. As Otoniel Fialho explained:
Merengue wasn’t prohibited in social dances, but it was censured. There were dances where, God forbid you play a merengue, because the club’s directors would come down hard!
By the end of the decade, many clubs began hosting merengue dance competitions, respectability politics be damned. The people had spoken; they liked their music hot.
1970s & beyond
During the 1970s and 80s, Belém’s sound systems grew in size, wattage, and decibels. Transistor technology had replaced tube amplification. A range of new media formats from reel-to-reel tape to 8-track players were incorporated into the console — at times ostentatiously. The sonoros gave way to a new kind of sound system, known as an aparelhagem because of its prominent display of aparelhos or equipment.
Throughout their 80+ year history, Belém’s sound systems have provided access to modern forms of communication and entertainment that were otherwise out of reach for working class Amazonians. They’ve provided multiple generations with opportunities to create community (and in some cases family wealth) in the hostile urban jungle that is class-based society.
For these reasons and more, we affirm that Amazonian sound systems are more than just entertainment. They’re a testament to the creativity and resourcefulness of self-taught technicians, selectors, emcees, and dancers who seized the tools of modernity for themselves, and put them in service of joy and community.
Sound systems are culture. Sound systems are heritage. Sound systems are resistance.
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DARIEN LAMEN is a ethnomusicologist with a PhD from the University of Pennsylvania. He is the author of numerous academic articles about Brazilian popular culture and has conducted research in Belém since 2009.
