The word capoeira means "the island of the cut grass", which gives some clue as to what capoeira is. "It comes from slaves imported from Angola to Brazilian colonies in the 17th century," explains Patrice Poujol, a Frenchman who has been living in Dublin for the past year or so. "Although they were in chains, they tried to create a sense of freedom, so they practised a series of kicks and sweeps while they worked, hidden from sight by tall grass." He explains that, because there is no written history of this unique hybrid of martial dance, it is unclear exactly how it all developed, but that the movements were passed on from generation to generation.
"Capoeira is almost a fight, but nobody gets hurt. You don't touch other people. The only enemy is yourself."
Poujol came across capoeira (pronounced cap-oo-EY-ra) when he was posted to the West Indian island of Martinique for his two-year military service. "I saw some people dancing capoeira in a park, and I eventually persuaded them to let me learn from them."
Capoeira, which is very demanding physically, is an art form which needs other people in order to be performed. The jogo de capoeira is performed, or played, in a big circle, a roda. "Only two people dance at any one time. The second level of interaction is with the group," Poujol explains as we walk across Trinity to the Luce Hall, where he's due to give a capoeira class.
When he moved to Ireland, Poujol could not find people in Dublin he could perform with. "I really wanted to keep it up. It was a big way of expressing myself. I thought if I trained people, that I'd be able then to keep practising. You need at least five people."
Trinity College offered him a space for classes. There's a group of people, mostly men, waiting outside the Luce Hall. Because Poujol got university space, his students so far have had to be on the college books. However, the Brazilian Embassy has assured him that it is looking for somewhere suitable for classes to make capoeira available to the general public.
"Do the Irish bring anything, well, uniquely Irish to the dance?" I ask. "No," he says slowly. "It's something that is outside culture. When you are performing, you take away culture and language. Your mind is supposed to be empty."
"Like meditation, but active meditation?" "Yes, more like that. Capoeira is different to martial arts because it's not just about learning moves. It's about you as a person. It lets your personality emerge, so every roda is different."
There is a long warm-up session: the students run in a circle, backwards, forwards. They jump, do cartwheels, do more jumps.
"These are the more advanced group," Poujol explains, doing startlingly fluent movements that look incredibly accomplished and complicated. "The beginners were afraid of a journalist, and they haven't turned up!"
When they have warmed up, the group split into pairs. They try out various movements, working one on one. The moves look aggressive as limbs are extended out at speed, like flick knives. Yet the partners anticipate each other's movements so well that no contact is made in this fascinatingly brutal choreography.
The students, and various members of the Brazilian community here, have been working towards the first Irish Capoeira Batizado, which takes place today. Brazilian capoeira master, Mestre Iram Custodio, is in Trinity today for this private event. The focus of the day will be the roda at the end, which follows the batizado.
Although batizado means baptism, it doesn't involve water or christening robes. It does, however, involve being given a name by the master: a name which he thinks reflects a person's essence. Poujol himself has not yet been baptised, but he is considering doing it this weekend. "I'm afraid he'll call me something like 'mushroom'," he confides. No, far more likely to be something along the lines of swallow or flower.
Public capoeira classes will run this autumn in Dublin. Website: www.dublinbatizado.8m.com E-mail patrice.p.poujol@aib.ie
