Sertanejo
It was November 2023 when I first met Ana Castela. She was backstage at Caldas Country, the festival in Caldas Novas in the Brazilian state of Goiás. At the time, she avoided speaking to the press before her show and seemed serious and shy as she prepared to take the stage. It was only her second time at the festival — just over a year had passed since her name first appeared in the media thanks to her song “Pipoco,” a collaboration with Melody and DJ Chris no Beat. Yet she was one of the main attractions of the night.
Nine months passed before I met Castela for the second time. This time, though still a bit shy, she was at one of the world’s biggest music festivals — Rock in Rio — to join duo Chitãozinho and Xororó for the “Brazil Day” celebration, the first in the event’s 40-year history. “For me, it was an honor. I consider them my grandparents,” she joked in her dressing room at Cidade do Rock, embraced by the sertanejo duo. Castela still seemed nervous about her upcoming performance, but she projected a new confidence, amplified once she took the stage. She faced a crowd singing along to her hits (“Nosso Quadro,” “Solteiro Forçado” and “Sinônimos”), including children of all ages wearing headbands with her nickname, “Boiadeira.”
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Born in Amambai, Mato Grosso do Sul, Ana Castela certainly couldn’t have imagined the success she would achieve by embracing the “boiadeira” style. Dressed in a cowboy hat, boots and a wide belt (much as an American cowgirl might), her so-called “agronejo” music blends sertanejo (Brazilian country music) and Brazilian funk, with lyrics about the agribusiness lifestyle. She is now one of the most listened-to artists in Brazil — a title she’s consistently held throughout 2024 — who as of this writing had two songs on the Billboard Brasil Hot 100 and spent 31 consecutive weeks at No. 1 on the Artists 25 Brazilian chart.
She entered the music scene at 17 but is still, at 21, trying to absorb the whirlwind of her life. “It was a drastic change, to be honest,” she says. “Before, I had a completely anonymous life. Now, people want to know everything about me, follow me around. It’s changed a lot.” Speaking to Billboard Brasil, she is still very much the girl from a countryside farm, pausing occasionally as if she is still trying to reconcile who she was and who she is today: “I’m enjoying the fruits that fame and the world are giving me, but always with caution.”
Ana Castela photographed for Billboard Brazil Global No. 1s Issue.
João Victor Moura dos Anjos
She’s followed by over 27 million people on social media, where she offers fun looks at her personal life — a Disney vacation, cute videos with her boyfriend, the singer Gustavo Mioto — and she’s starred in various commercials and advertising campaigns. “Ô loco [Wow],” she marvels. “Doors just keep opening for me. I never thought my face would be on a shoebox. It doesn’t just help my career; it makes dreams come true that I never even imagined. It’s awesome.”
But her feelings around her wildly increased presence are also conflicted. “My life is no longer mine. I don’t have a private life anymore; everyone knows everything I do,” she laments, though she adds that she’s getting used to it. When I ask if she’s receiving any professional support, Castela says that she started therapy about a month ago: “I think no mind is strong enough to go without a professional for so long.”
She knows the truth of that firsthand. At a performance at the Festa do Peão de Barretos in 2023, one of the most important sertanejo festivals in the country, she broke down while preparing to sing “Solteiro Forçado,” one of her breakthrough hits. “Sorry I can’t sing,” she sobbed in front of a massive crowd. “I swear I’m studying and working with a vocal coach to improve. It’s exhausting as hell, but I’m giving it my all.” Backstage, it was equally tough. “I was in a bad headspace,” she recalls.
Excessive work, plus the overwhelming experience of her fame, had taken a toll on her emotionally. “I couldn’t hit the note that day — I was so insecure,” she says. Criticism from both the public and within herself fueled her drive to improve. “You need to evolve. I was born with the gift of singing, but I need to perfect it.”
Therapy, her Christian faith and her family — an unconditional support system — now help her cope. She also strives to balance the needs of Ana Flávia (her real first name) and Ana Castela. In her free time, she enjoys hanging out with friends at her farm in Londrina, Paraná, and visiting São Paulo for shopping. “Those are the days I can just be young,” she jokes, as if on others she must be a more mature version of herself.
Ana Castela photographed for Billboard Brazil Global No. 1s Issue.
João Victor Moura dos Anjos
Her latest project, Herança Boiadeira, released in September 2024, embodies this balance. Recorded at her farm, it features collaborations with iconic sertanejo artists like Matogrosso & Mathias, Eduardo Costa, Paula Fernandes and Gino & Geno. “I wanted it to be mine — not Ana Castela’s, but Ana Flávia’s. A tribute to my roots, my upbringing on the farm. My grandfather loved these artists, and so did I,” she explains. In fact, one standout track features her paternal grandparents: “Minha Herança,” with its heartfelt lyrics reflecting a longing for lost time.
Next year, Castela will step into the shoes of iconic artists before her when she becomes the ambassador of the 70th Festa do Peão de Barretos, where she quickly has risen from playing a secondary stage in 2022 to the main stage in 2023 and again in 2024. Pedro Muzeti, artistic director of the festival, says Castela’s evolution represents the future of sertanejo music: “It’s a renewal of the rodeo audience. Having someone young represent such a historic event is fitting.”
Her appeal to younger fans is certainly evident in the kids who wear her signature hats (“They’re adorable; I love them,” Castela says), and she’s launching Turma da Boiadeirinha, a YouTube channel featuring kids songs. But her future, she realizes, very much revolves around an adult audience. She’s collaborated with big names like Gusttavo Lima and Luan Santana and dreams of pairing up with Luísa Sonza and Anitta. And after winning best sertanejo album at the 2024 Latin Grammy Awards, Castela has her sights set on an international audience next.
“If it works, I’ll go for it,” she says. In 2025, she plans to incorporate pop into her shows but stay true to her roots: “I’ll always bring my hat wherever I go,” she insists. “It’s important to show the strength of our music on the global stage.”
RIO DE JANEIRO — In 2020, the pandemic knocked down Brazil’s show business, causing the number of music-related events to plummet by 80% to about 15,000, from over 83,000 in 2019, according to Brazil’s office for collection and distribution of music copyrights (ECAD).
While many artists pivoted to livestreams during the shutdown, Bete Dezembro and a group of fellow promoters and artist managers seized the moment to try to remake Brazil’s concert business — betting that once artists returned to the stage, concerts would be in much higher demand. “We had to reinvent ourselves,” Dezembro, owner of Fábrica de Eventos, an events promoter focused on Brazil’s northern music market, tells Billboard.
In March of 2021, Dezembro — along with Augusto Castro, Léo Góes, Celso Almeida and Fernando Almeida — launched 4Even, Brazil’s first investment fund designed to turn music shows into a financial asset class. The gig-driven fund generates profit from buying shows from music artists and reselling them to private clients for higher prices.
The idea was risky. At the time, it was unclear when live concerts would return or even when COVID-19 vaccines would be available in Brazil. “The financial market bought into this idea when it realized that the businesspeople who understand the music sector were the ones taking the risk,” says Dezembro.
With 100 million reais ($18.8 million) of their own money, the five partners inaugurated 4Even’s portfolio by acquiring 192 show dates of Gusttavo Lima, a popular sertanejo act — which valued his shows at just under $100,000 apiece. (Sertanejo is Brazil’s version of American country music.) A year and a half later, 4Even is worth around $30.5 million, the fund managers say, with a portfolio of around 800 shows from at least nine Brazilian artists.
The diverse list includes pagode performer Sorriso Maroto, dance music DJ Vintage Culture and sertanejo duo Jorge & Mateus, 4Even’s most recent acquisition. (4Even only negotiates for shows in Brazil.)
Dezembro tells Billboard that five other Brazilian artists, who she would not name, are currently negotiating to sell shows to 4Even.
While the live sector is rebounding, ECAD says the number of music-related events in 2022 through September, at about 40,000, is still less than half of the 2019 full-year level. That hasn’t stopped the 4Even fund from inspiring other investors. In August of 2021, Opus Entretenimento, a concert promotion and artist management company, and brokerage company XP inaugurated a show-driven investment fund they say is worth around $52 million. Seu Jorge, Alexandre Pires, Bruno & Marrone and Vintage Culture are among the artists who have sold shows to the XP OPUS fund.
Nevertheless, some Brazilian music executives have reservations about the concert funds’ ability to be profitable.
“I’m afraid that some of these funds may be valuing their assets a bit above their actual market value,” says Marcelo Soares, the CEO of Som Livre, a label owned by Sony Music Entertainment. “Some of them will eventually face financial losses. But I like that investment funds are discovering the music market.”
Marcos Araújo, CEO of promoter Villa Mix, says high artist fees, which have been rising in Brazil for the biggest artists, could lead fund partners to squeeze consumers by raising ticket prices. “It’s a very difficult model,” says Araújo, who has managed Lima and other big acts like dance-music performer Alok. “The artist takes his money in advance and spends it on a jet, plane, ship, boat. His money runs out and he starts fighting with the fund. Because he wants more money.”
Araújo told Billboard in mid-2020 that he was working to create his own gig-driven concert fund. He ultimately stopped trying to land enough investment after souring on the idea as too risky. “I was afraid artists couldn’t fulfill their agreements,” he says.
Lima was the first to sell shows to 4Even, agreeing after fund partner Castro, who produces shows and manages artists from Central-Western Brazil, persuaded him that the fund could create financial security for artists. “The idea was that when the pandemic restrictions ended, there would be money in their account,” Castro tells Billboard.
While any 4Even investor can pitch new artists for the fund, acquisitions must be agreed upon by all the partners. Lima, who will soon become one of the fund’s shareholders, informally proposed 4Even invest in Vintage Culture, whose budding international career was making his Brazilian dates scarcer. “As he has started performing abroad more often, he has less availability to perform in Brazil,” says Dezembro. “His future show dates would become more expensive, which would eventually profit the fund.”
Vintage Culture performs live onstage during the second day of Lollapalooza Brazil Music Festival at Interlagos Racetrack on April 06, 2019 in Sao Paulo, Brazil.
Mauricio Santana/GI
According to João Fiuza, CEO of Brazilian fintech One7, which is responsible for the financial governance of 4Even, Lima is expected to become an official fund investor in November, entitling him to participate in all portfolio decisions. Until now, he has been informally advising on new assets. (Junior Marques, one of the artists who sold shows to 4Even, is managed by Balada Music, Lima’s music management company.)
The recent wave of investigations into publicly funded music shows in Brazil — officials in 70 cities are suspected of agreeing to pay inflated fees to lure artists — has placed Lima under a negative spotlight, as his name was mentioned in many of the contracts under scrutiny. Dezembro says no Lima show that belongs to the fund has been canceled or devalued in the market since the investigations became public.
The fund doesn’t resell shows to municipalities, which are the target of the ongoing “CPI do sertanejo” investigations — it sells to private clients, like rodeos, fairs and other events, she says. And all of Lima’s municipal shows were negotiated directly with his company, Balada Music, she says. (Fiuza says Lima’s 4Even-owned shows are selling at a higher price now than before the investigations.)
Even though the fund resells shows for higher prices than they pay the acts, 4Even has seen a growing number of artists vying to join the portfolio to invest in their careers. The fund can be particularly helpful to emerging artists, who can use money earned from selling shows in advance to record one of their concerts, for example, says Fiuza.
But most artists are signing with 4Even for the overall career-management opportunity. “If it were all about buying and reselling the shows, the fund wouldn’t be sustainable,” says Dezembro. “The stronger pillar of the fund is being able to place these artists in the biggest events of Brazil, on the best days, and at the most competitive [set times].”
Additional Reporting by Alexei Barrionuevo
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