‘The Girl from Ipanema’: the song that reveals the cultural divide between the US and Brazil
As perhaps one of the most renowned bossa nova tracks of all time, ‘The Girl From Ipanema’ is a song that doesn’t just define an entire genre, but transcends its origins from Brazil with its intriguing history. You might think you know the song, how it goes, and all its little cadences and intricacies. But, depending on where you’re from, the song can appear slightly different to listeners and exist within an entirely different context.
The version recorded by American saxophonist Stan Getz and Brazilian guitarist João Gilberto in 1964 is perhaps the most well-known iteration, given that the album it originated from, Getz/Gilberto, was a massive success and became the first jazz record to win ‘Album of the Year’ at the Grammy Awards. However, despite having given the song a greater notoriety, the duo were not its original composers, and it was written as a bossa nova standard two years prior by Brazilian composer Antonio Carlos Jobim.
His original version, known as ‘Garota de Ipanema’ in his native Portuguese tongue, was initially performed by Pery Ribeiro in 1962, and is markedly different to the version popularised by Getz and Gilberto. The lyrics are, of course, written in a different language, and while the cover incorporates elements of lounge jazz and easy listening on top of maintaining its bossa nova roots, the original has both a number of marked differences alongside some bizarre connecting factors.
The original may have been rooted in traditional styles from its home country, especially the samba and bossa nova styles that originated from the nightlife of Rio de Janeiro; however, Jobim was equally influenced by American jazz and blues music from the 1950s. This would play a significant role in the interest that American audiences took in the song, and why musicians like Stan Getz felt obliged to create their own interpretations.
Getz, being a jazz musician himself, would have been a major influence on Jobim’s output in the first place. However, the fact that this distinctively South American style had made its way to the United States via an American influence demonstrates that there was much to be mutually settled on between the two nations regarding cultural identity and musical common ground. When Getz brought Gilberto on board to cover the track, he would also enlist the then-spouse of Gilberto, Astruda Gilberto—a notable bossa nova singer in her own right—to perform the vocals on the song, but primarily in English.
Another way in which the cover differs from Jobim’s original is that the Brazilians would perform it in the key of Db major, but the international version was transposed into F major. This only slightly changed the tone of the song, but it’s with small tweaks like this and the linguistic translation that the song managed to take on two separate yet mutually-informed identities of equal cultural significance in different regions of the world.
This circle of influence is what makes the song so fascinating, and while the ‘correct’ way to perform it has become shrouded in ambiguity, there are ultimately infinite ways to enjoy the single. It’s universal not just because of its multicultural elements but also because, even with its easy manipulation into different forms, it still remains instantly recognisable.
