Candombe's Resurgence: Afro-Uruguayan Rhythm Thrives After Historic Ban
In the vibrant streets of Montevideo, Uruguay, a young girl dances with the Lonjas de Ciudad Vieja comparsa, practicing candombe, an Afro-Uruguayan rhythm with deep historical roots. This music, born among enslaved Africans and once banned by authorities, is now experiencing a remarkable peak, drawing thousands to public squares and carnival parades across the country.
From Marginalization to Mainstream Acceptance
Similar to the blues in the United States, samba in Brazil, rumba in Cuba, and plena in Puerto Rico, candombe was long reviled, marginalized, and even prohibited. However, while other such genres have been part of the cultural mainstream for decades in the Americas, candombe is only now reaching its zenith. Once confined to the Black neighborhoods of Montevideo, candombe groups have spread to every region of Uruguay, a South American nation of 3.5 million people, with 10% identifying as Afro-Uruguayan.
One prominent group, Rueda de Candombe, has been attracting up to 2,000 people every Monday to listen to a repertoire that is entirely national and deeply rooted in Afro-Uruguayan rhythms. Claudio Martínez, a 47-year-old singer and percussionist with the group, remarked, "I think we are at a turning point." Rueda de Candombe began performing in a bar about a year ago, but as audiences swelled, the city council relocated them to Plaza España, a public square that Martínez describes as "a tremendously meaningful place."
Historical Context and Modern Revival
During the 18th and 19th centuries, Africans and their descendants could only play their drums in secrecy within homes or at a few authorized parades. To avoid complaints from neighbors, they often practiced just outside the city walls—near where Rueda de Candombe now performs. Martínez reflected on this irony, noting, "It's crazy, because when you look around, you realise that in this very place we're dancing, singing and enjoying ourselves with some of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of those who were denouncing us from inside the walls."
The newfound popularity of candombe is so significant that Jorge Drexler, one of Uruguay's biggest singers and the first Latin American artist to win an Oscar for best original song in 2005, has made it the centerpiece of his new album, Taracá, set for release on March 12. Rueda de Candombe features on three tracks, and the genre's rhythms permeate much of the album, including the song Ante la duda, baila (If in doubt, dance), which references the 1807 ban on candombe by Uruguayan authorities who deemed it "a lewd and impure dance / for the way it moved the hips."
Cultural Significance and Challenges
Drexler, 61, who describes himself as an aficionado rather than an expert of candombe, stated that the rhythm "is a trance, a spiritual tool" and has "the ability to build bridges between people" in an increasingly polarized world. He expressed joy at candombe's expansion in recent years, recalling, "I grew up in a country where it was looked at with profound discrimination."
Candombe originated from the over 200,000 enslaved Africans sent to Uruguay during 250 years of slavery, primarily from central Africa. Its name is believed to derive from the Bantu language family, roughly meaning "of Black people." Although it occasionally incorporates instruments like acoustic guitars or accordions, candombe is primarily defined by three drums: piano, chico, and repique. Researcher and artist Tomás Olivera Chirimini explained, "They each have a distinctive sound that corresponds to the human voice. That is why candombe can be defined as a dialogue between 'human' voices."
Despite the historical ban, candombe gradually gained broader acceptance in Uruguayan society, aided by artists like Rubén Rada. It received protection under national law in 2006 and was recognized by UNESCO as an intangible cultural heritage of humanity in 2009. Chirimini noted, "And here we are now, in 2026, with candombe—which was born in a tiny part of Montevideo—having spread across the entire country."
Contemporary Issues and Future Outlook
However, candombe's success also brings challenges. Chirimini pointed out, "It's changing colour: more than half of what is done today is by white people." Diego Paredes, a 41-year-old musician with Rueda de Candombe, echoed this concern, stating that when negotiating events or shows, entrepreneurs are often not Black, highlighting ongoing racial disparities. He said, "While we inherited spirituality, the swing and the strength from our ancestors, we also inherited poverty."
Paredes's connection to candombe is deeply personal, as his mother, Chabela Ramírez, 68, is one of Uruguay's leading candombe artists and Afro-feminists. Ramírez, interviewed in Palermo, one of Montevideo's traditional Afro-Uruguayan neighborhoods now facing gentrification, asserted, "Uruguay is a very racist country." She expressed fear that candombe might follow the path of tango in Argentina, which has Black roots that are often overlooked.
Ramírez emphasized that candombe cannot be viewed solely as entertainment, given its origins in resistance and spirituality. She explained, "The drums take the place of the human voice, because singing was not permitted, nor were enslaved people allowed to speak to one another. Candombe had, and still has, a very important role in communication." As this rhythm continues to evolve, it remains a powerful symbol of cultural resilience and identity in Uruguay.
