Candombe is inseparable from the sound of drums moving through Montevideo. The Uruguayan tradition combines music and dance and carries a strong African heritage. Three historic neighbourhoods, Barrio Sur, Palermo and Cordón, developed their own approaches to the drum rhythm, and the annual Desfile de las Llamadas brings comparsas into the streets. Yet candombe does not exist only during the parade. Rehearsals and neighbourhood gatherings continue throughout the year.
What interests me is what happens when rhythm is not confined to a stage. A procession changes acoustics constantly. Buildings reflect the drums differently, spectators move alongside the players, distance alters which parts of the pattern become dominant. The city itself becomes part of the mix. That makes candombe difficult to reduce to an audio recording alone. The recording preserves rhythm, but not the experience of hearing it approach from another street, grow physically larger and then disappear again. Music can occupy architecture without ever needing a concert hall.