Singer and composer Gustavo Ortiz presents the single “José, João” — a musical tribute to the invisible journeys of those who build Brazil with their own hands. With artistic production by Romulo Fróes and an urban samba atmosphere, the song recalls memories of workers who, like Ortiz’s father, dedicated their lives to daily effort, becoming fundamental characters in the country’s history.
“José, João” was released on Labor Day and carries with it this gesture of reverence and memory. What led you to transform this feeling into music and how did it feel to choose this date to present the song to the world?
What led me to this was being born and raised among workers, in a working-class family. It is a tribute to those who shaped me, but it is also my own memory of life among these workers. It is not a story from a distance; on the contrary, talking about these people is talking about my story, about the world I came from. The choice of the date was quite spontaneous, when I realized that I could release it at that time of year. I had already done something similar with a first single, in 2021, called “Porvir (uma rapsódia de carnaval)”, released on that pandemic Ash Wednesday . Whenever a date makes sense with the theme of the song, that will be the choice for the release, also as a way of challenging the logic of streaming services, which usually preaches releases from Thursday to Friday.
You composed the track based on memories of your father, who had a life marked by effort and simplicity. How was it to deal with grief during the creative process and transform pain into a musical tribute?
My father was a simple man who spent his life working and did not have the opportunity to enjoy his retirement, as he passed away shortly after. Foucault, the French philosopher, would say that he was a perfect product of capitalism: he served his body at work throughout his life and did not pay social security contributions when he stopped being a “productive body,” in the capitalist logic, of course. Thus, transforming this mourning into a type of tribute involves, above all, a mixture of feelings of hatred, for losing him so early, and of revolt, for him, of course, but also for all those who, like him, suffered the same fate. It is less a tribute in the most common sense of the word than a cry of revolt that tries to reach people in the form of a song.
The choice of the names “José” and “João” represents thousands of invisible workers in Brazil. Do you remember a specific moment when you felt the need to give names and faces to these figures in the form of art?
José and João are names considered generic, and in this song they really do give that tone, but the most important thing is that these are the two most used male names in Brazil, which is precisely why they refer to millions and millions of Brazilians, who have names, faces, bodies and lives. As contradictory as this may seem, in using these names I did not intend to generalize, but to speak of the greatest number of workers possible and, mainly, to address the issue on a collective scale, but not a generic one. I did not want to use my father’s name precisely so as not to sound like an individual story, because, in reality, it is about millions of individual stories experienced daily. That is why I spoke of two workers with different temperaments, but who, despite this, end up suffering the same consequences. It is not about José and João as a kind of generic representation or abstraction, but about each of the Josés and Joãos who live out there, with their unique bodies and stories. I tried to point to the collective by looking at the individual. Brazilian music is rich in giving names and faces to these figures. I draw on this tradition, not only in “José, João,” but in other songs to come.
Romulo Fróes, who had already collaborated with you on “Trago”, returns here as producer and vocal partner. What does this partnership mean to you artistically and personally? And how did it contribute to the power of this song?
It’s not often that someone with the talent and experience of someone like Romulo is interested in producing the music of a complete unknown in the music world. I think that, first of all, this partnership represents a kind of confirmation, to myself, of the strength of my songs. Secondly, Romulo’s production enhanced the songs on the EP. Recording the EP was my first experience in a professional studio, and I was very insecure about it. He was essential for me to feel like a composer recording his songs without owing anything to anyone. Artistically, Romulo was essential to the result, both in the arrangement choices and the team he assembled for the recording, as well as in his own intuition as a composer, because “José, João”, specifically, was on the back burner, at the time with less than half the verses it has now, and he was the one who saw the potential of this song and practically demanded that I finish it. Furthermore, Romulo’s voice on the recording brought a lot of strength to the story I was telling. This partnership promises many fruits yet; We composed our first song together and Romulo is producing my first album, which was selected by the PROAC public notice and is currently in the early stages of recording.
Musically, “José, João” mixes urban samba with nuances of baião and partido-alto. How did you seek this specific sound to support the strength of the lyrics, and what were the references that guided this construction?
The first verse came to my head, melody and lyrics, exactly as recorded, while I was playing a samba chord progression that I had been playing for some time, and so I continued to follow the composition, but I left it aside for a while. When Romulo challenged me to finish it, I felt that it needed a change of pace, a second part. At that time, I was studying, in a very self-taught and scattered way, João Bosco’s partido-alto guitar, and it was from him that I got a bit of that beat from the second parts. But since João Bosco’s guitar is inimitable, my version of his beat was somewhere between partido-alto and baião, which I liked and felt fit with what I was going to say there. One thing that I think is fundamental to the sound of this song is the fact that the lyrics have a strength and a somewhat loaded message, but with a softer, almost tender melody. I feel that this helps to support the idea of the song. Furthermore, Rodrigo Campos’ cavaco was very important for the strength of “José, João”; the cavaco tells the story along with the lyrics.
The song also dialogues with the book O que é meu , by José Henrique Bortolucci . How did reading this work broaden your understanding of your own story and the narrative you wanted to bring in the song?
Bortolucci ’s book just as I was in the process of resuming the composition of “José, João”. Like me, he is also the son of a truck driver, he comes from the working class who tries to “make it in life” through education, and, like me, he graduated in Social Sciences. In addition to the fact that the book is beautiful and very well written, I recognized a lot of things in that narrative. In some way, the book freed me from a resistance I had to include some more personal references in the lyrics. It was after reading the book that I decided to mention things like “canhota de zagueiro” (a defender’s left-hander), “boia-fria” (a cold-blooded worker), “boleia” (a boleia), “palavras cruzados” (a crossword puzzle), which are more direct references to my father, who was a cold-blooded worker, truck driver, amateur soccer player, and loved crossword puzzles. The book reminded me of the possibility that, when done well , when dealing with the individual, we are also in the collective dimension, specifically when we talk about themes like those that permeate both the book and the song. The beautiful thing is that José Bortolucci heard the song and posted on his own Instagram saying that he was moved. He called it “a beautiful, sweet and sad samba, like all good sambas”. I was happy to reciprocate, in some way, the emotion I felt when reading his book.
You mentioned how the song seeks to provoke empathy and indignation — especially at a time when formal work has been trivialized by some discourses. As an artist and social scientist, how do you see the responsibility of art in the public debate about work, dignity and memory?
It is no wonder that when conservative movements advance, art is always one of the main targets of attack, even by the most imbecile representatives of these movements. It becomes a target precisely because of its power to propose new ways of thinking and living, something that terrifies conservatism, fascism and also the doctrines that support capitalism (which, in general, are also conservative and fascist). Actions, artistic or otherwise, that are part of the public debate proposing to rethink, for example, the ways in which the poorest classes experience work, are immediately criticized such as “that’s not quite how it is, the country cannot stop”, “the economy must grow, because that will benefit everyone” and phrases of that nature, which disapprove of ways that do not involve the complete extraction of workers’ energies in favor of their bosses. Philosopher Isabelle Stengers calls this “infernal alternatives”, that is, the possibilities of choice would be between the bad and the lesser bad . In this case, what workers would be faced with is the choice between not working, dying of hunger, or eating, dying of work. Just follow the social movement VAT — Life Beyond Work, which proposes a review of the 6×1 work schedule. VAT is proposing a concrete change in the lives of workers, concerned with a more dignified life and with the memory of the labor struggles that came before. And what they are receiving is a flood of criticism from the “market,” this almost superhuman entity, from the wealthy classes and a certain boycott even from the government itself, which is afraid of buying into this struggle and losing its so-called governability. Obviously with much less reach, but I include “José, João” in this same struggle — not just this specific song, but others from my own work and from other composers in the country. However, I feel that music artists could, or at least should, be participating more actively in the country’s fundamental public debates.
“José, João” is part of a new EP that marks a new phase in your career. What do you hope this work will do to people? And what is the greatest desire that drives you in this new stage as an artist?
“José, João” is part of the EP Desafogo , with songs composed between 2009 and 2024. That’s why my most immediate desire with this work is to finally put my songs out into the world after so much time trying. That’s why this was the title of the EP — besides being the title of one of the songs, it’s also my own personal and artistic release to release my work in a more professional way. The partnership with Romulo gives even more strength to all of this, as does the invitation to be an artist for the TRUQ label, a new label on the market, concerned with music itself and focused on contemporary Brazilian music. It was an honor to be the first release made by the label. I hope this EP serves as a presentation work, a first sample of my…
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