Hermeto Pascoal, the Brazilian composer and multi-instrumentalist whose boundless creativity and genre-defying style made him a legend at home and abroad, died on Saturday at the age of 89. Known variously as "the wizard," "The Mad Genius," and "The Sorcerer of Sounds," Pascoal leaves behind a body of work as eclectic and surprising as the man himself. His death was announced by his family and team on Instagram, who said he passed peacefully, "surrounded by family and fellow musicians." No cause or location of death was given, but the sense of loss across Brazil and the global music community was immediate and profound.
Born on June 22, 1936, in a rural settlement in Alagoas, in Brazil’s poor northeast, Pascoal’s early years were shaped by both hardship and curiosity. Albino and unable to work under the harsh sun in the fields with his family, he spent his childhood indoors, teaching himself to play his father’s accordion. By age 10, he was already performing at local dances and weddings, quickly gaining a reputation for his prodigious talent and fearless experimentation.
Pascoal’s musical journey was anything but conventional. He blended jazz, samba, forró, chorinho, bossa nova, and Brazilian popular music (MPB), often refusing to be pinned down by any one label. As he told Jazz World in 2022, "When they think I am doing one thing I am already doing something else... It's very liquid." This refusal to be categorized became a hallmark of his career, and his approach to music was as playful as it was profound.
His instrument list was as long as his discography. Though primarily a pianist, flutist, and accordionist, Pascoal also played saxophone, guitars, drums, and, famously, almost anything he could get his hands on. He incorporated household objects—tea cups, pints of beer, dolls, even live pigs—into his performances and recordings. During the creation of his debut album Slaves Mass for Warner Brothers in 1976, he brought a pair of live pigs into the studio, using a piglet’s squeal to open a track. The image of Pascoal clutching the animal appeared on the album’s back cover, cementing his reputation as a true musical eccentric.
Pascoal’s rise from rural obscurity to international acclaim involved several key moves. At 14, his family relocated to the port city of Recife, where he honed his skills and performed on local radio. By the late 1950s, he had moved to Rio de Janeiro, immersing himself in the city’s vibrant jazz scene, performing in nightclubs and joining a radio orchestra. His innovative blend of jazz and Brazilian folk styles quickly attracted the attention of the country’s top musicians. He performed with the celebrated singer Elis Regina and, notably, with percussionist Airto Moreira. Their partnership led Pascoal to the United States, where he was introduced to Miles Davis—a meeting that would change his career forever.
Miles Davis, the American jazz icon, was so taken with Pascoal’s artistry that he called him the most "important musician on the planet." Pascoal played on Davis’s 1971 album Live-Evil, a collaboration that launched his international career and introduced his unique sound to audiences far beyond Brazil. But despite the accolades from jazz royalty, Pascoal never saw himself as a jazz musician alone. He credited Brazil’s musical traditions—chorinho, samba, forró—with shaping his sensibilities as much as any American influence.
Throughout his long career, Pascoal was astonishingly prolific. According to Reuters and the Associated Press, he wrote more than 2,000 instrumental pieces, though some sources, like the Barbican Centre in London, claim the number is even higher. He continued composing, arranging, and recording music well into his 80s, with his restless creativity showing no sign of slowing down. "I was born music; I haven’t done anything without music," he told Folha de S.Paulo last year. "What I write on a toilet bowl is as important as what I write on any paper, because music is sacred."
Pascoal’s influence on Brazilian music and culture is difficult to overstate. His work inspired generations of musicians, both in Brazil and around the world, to think beyond conventional boundaries and embrace experimentation. After news of his passing broke, tributes poured in from all corners. Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva wrote on X that "Brazilian music and culture owe a great deal to Hermeto Pascoal," praising his "talent and tireless creativity" and noting that it "earned him international acclaim and influenced generations of musicians around the world." Musician Caetano Veloso added on Instagram that Pascoal was "one of the highest points in the history of music in Brazil."
Pascoal’s persona was as memorable as his music. Instantly recognizable with his mane of white hair, thick beard, and ever-present sunglasses, he cut a striking figure on stage and off. His performances could be wild, unpredictable affairs, with musicians and audience alike never quite sure what would happen next. He delighted in blurring the lines between the everyday and the extraordinary, often inviting listeners to find music in the most unexpected places.
Despite his global fame, Pascoal remained deeply connected to his roots. He never lost sight of the traditions that shaped him, and he often spoke about the importance of honoring the past while pushing into the future. In his later years, he continued to arrange music and record with younger artists, passing on his knowledge and infectious passion for discovery.
His family’s statement announcing his death encouraged fans to celebrate his life in a manner befitting his spirit: "Let a single note ring—from an instrument, your voice, or a kettle—and offer it to the universe." It’s a fitting tribute to a man who found music everywhere and invited the world to listen a little more closely.
Pascoal’s legacy is one of fearless invention, joyful collaboration, and a deep love for the possibilities of sound. As the music world mourns his passing, it’s clear that his influence will echo for generations to come, inspiring musicians and listeners alike to embrace the magic in every note.
