It’s carnival time!
Riotous Mardi Gras or restrained Shrove Tuesday? There’s no competition, says Chris Leadbeater.
Rarely do traditions seem quite as quaint and restrained as when Britain’s Shrove Tuesday is compared with Mardi Gras. For every nicety which the former plays with in the kitchen – a teaspoon of sugar, a squeeze of lemon, a ladleful of batter in a lightly heated frying pan – the latter can conjure up a cloud of glitter, a blur of sequins, irresistible slabs of rhythm and noise, and dance routines that leave their participants drenched in sweat.
But both are based on the same principle – a final dose of fun and frivolity before Ash Wednesday and the six weeks of self-denial that comprise Lent. Whatever you call it, Shrove Tuesday/Pancake Day/Mardi Gras this year falls on February 13.
Of course, Rio de Janeiro’s most fabulous party does not limit itself to one day. It usually runs from the Friday before to the Wednesday after the totemic Tuesday (February 9-14 this year) and is surely the greatest rush of colour, music and culture found anywhere on the planet.
It spills out across the city in street parties and merry chaos, yet finds its focus in the Sambadrome – a purpose-built 640-metre corridor of grandstands in the Cidade Nova district downtown.
Here, more than 200 samba schools compete over four nights of drumming and drama in front of 90,000 spectators. One school will be declared the winner on the Wednesday. A ‘‘parade of champions’’ is staged the following Saturday.
If Rio has any rival for its giddily cacophonous crown, it is New Orleans Mardi Gras – an American hurrah that cannot match its Latin colleague for attendance numbers, but does manage to eclipse it by beginning earlier. This year it achieved full whooping, hollering velocity last Friday.
Louisiana’s largest city will be a frenzy of festivity on a neardaily basis, the din reaching a crescendo on February 13 (‘‘Fat Tuesday’’, to give ‘‘Mardi Gras’’ its proper translation).
At the heart of the mayhem are the ‘‘krewes’’, the social clubs that direct the flamboyant cavalcades of floats which criss-cross the centre of town – trundling past the bars and cafes of Bourbon and Decatur Sts, and lengthy boulevards such as St Charles Ave.
New Orleans’ Mardi Gras came to life in 1699; the Rio Carnaval perhaps as far back as 1723. The Carnaval de Nice trumps them both – it first cropped up in written records in 1294.
True, it lacks the profile and pizzazz of its transatlantic counterparts, but this French fandango is a fine option for those who want a different Mardi Gras moment.
It shares a concept with New Orleans in that it revolves around street processions, mainly on the Promenade des Anglais. But it also has a family vibe, its floats adorned with papier-mache ISTOCK caricatures that take on a different theme each year (this year’s is space exploration). However, it does not hitch itself slavishly to Shrove Tuesday – this year the dates are February 17 to March 3.
Europe also has few more Mardi Gras alternatives. The Carnaval de Santa Cruz de Tenerife will really kick in this week, when the ‘‘Carnival Queen’’ is elected. But the party doesn’t end when Ash Wednesday dawns. This is the day of the ‘‘Entierro de la Sardina’’, where a giant model sardine is carried through town and burned at the beach in a AP mimicry of mourning.
The Venice Carnevale is, of course, another member of the pre-Lenten club (running until February 13) – though its ‘‘processions’’ are of boats, and its artistic flair is injected into costumed balls in grand palaces. Its visual calling card is its masks of extraordinary beauty and occasional menace.
These ornate facial coverings were once designed to protect the identities of aristocrats mingling with the Venetian common man, but now give anyone attending an air of mystique and magic. – The Telegraph ISTOCK