The name of Maurício Fleury’s debut reveals its aspiration. According to the »Dicionário Online de Português«, »revoada« is a polysemic expression. In its most basic meaning, it refers to a flight or a flock of birds; figuratively, it can also denote people making noise, a teeming crowd, or a favourable opportunity. Fittingly, the album Revoada is equally hard to pin down.
In Brazil, Fleury spearheaded the ten-member ensemble Bixiga 70; more recently, he has cast his net in Germany’s free scene. Revoada promises the best of both worlds. »Recorded in Brazil«, we read in the promo blurb, »it is the result of numerous treks through funky flea markets, soaking up old vinyl and vintage cultural artefacts, combined with a new life led in Berlin since 2022.«
Fleury attends to nostalgic sounds – Fender Rhodes, Hammond and Korg among them – without falling prey to wistfulness. Revoada offers iridescent Jazz-Funk, yet it is often tuned closer to Anatolian Psych-Rock and even gestures toward Thelonious Monk. Fleury riffs on references, but keeps them at a deliberate distance. In a recent interview, he suggested that, in his artistic process, meanings or allusions to social circumstances emerge only retrospectively, if at all. And even then, an unaccountable remainder persists. In this sense, Revoada functions like a Wimmelbild – a teeming picture whose pleasure lies in the fact that it never quite comes fully into view.
Revoada
