Brazilian singer Beth Carvalho performs at a music festival in Rio de Janeiro in 2018. (Mauro Pimentel/AFP/Getty Images)

Beth Carvalho, an exuberant, smoky-voiced Brazilian singer who filled soccer stadiums with her followers, battled music-industry machismo, and championed overlooked composers and performers — earning the nickname “godmother of samba” — died April 30 in Rio de Janeiro. She was 72.

A statement from the Hospital Pró-Cardíaco, where she had been treated for spinal problems since January, said the cause was sepsis.

Ms. Carvalho (her name is pronounced Betch Car-VAHL-yo) was among Brazil’s most celebrated singers, with a husky alto voice that soundtracked dances, street parties and the earsplitting, eye-widening Carnival festival that signals the beginning of the Christian season of Lent.

Her music was by turns plaintive and life-affirming, backed by drums, bells, guitars, whistles and the ukulele-like cavaco or cavaquinho. One of her best-known songs, “Coisinha do Pai” (“Daddy’s Little Thing”), was so stirring it was used as a “wake-up” track for a rover on NASA’s 1997 Pathfinder mission to Mars.

Ms. Carvalho performed bossa nova, jazz, protest songs and the forró party music of northeastern Brazil. But she was known above all for her commitment to the percussive, rhythmically distinctive tradition of samba, which she called “the fountain from which all Brazilian music drinks.”

In a career that spanned five decades, she was credited with playing an “integral role in the history of Brazilian music” by the Latin Grammy Awards, which honored her with a lifetime achievement award in 2009. More than many of her peers, she emphasized samba’s roots in the West African slave trade, calling it a music of political and social empowerment, not just of revelry and spectacle.


Ms. Carvalho in 2016 atop a Carnival parade float in Rio de Janeiro. (Yasuyoshi Chiba/AFP/Getty Images)

“Everybody knows the word ‘samba,’ ” she told the Christian Science Monitor in 1990. “Everybody knows what Carnival is. But I think that samba itself, its essence, is not known, even in Brazil. Samba isn’t just a rhythm; it’s a resistance. The majority of samba composers are extremely humble people, with little instruction or scholarship. Most of them are black and extremely poor.”

Ms. Carvalho wrote campaign songs for Leonel Brizola, the socialist governor of Rio de Janeiro state, and was an electric, sequined presence at the Rio Carnival, where she sat aboard floats or marched in the street, thick red hair cascading down her shoulders.

Some 200 samba schools — social clubs, more or less — compete in parades at the Carnival, with the largest groups battling at the downtown Sambadrome, which seats more than 70,000. Ms. Carvalho was a longtime member of the pink-and-green Mangueira, one of Rio’s most popular schools, but also wrote songs for Portela, a frequent parade winner.

That a woman would play such a prominent role in samba’s premier event, and do so as a musician rather than a feather-clad dancer, was not a given when Ms. Carvalho began her career in the 1960s.

“The scene was very full of machismo,” she told the New York Times in 2018, recalling an era when many of the songs made light of domestic violence and sexual assault.

It helped, she said, that she knew how to play the cavaquinho. “Since I could already play, I was armed, and I wasn’t intimidated. In any case, I have samba in my veins. What else could I do?”

Elizabeth Santos Leal de Carvalho was born in Rio de Janeiro on May 5, 1946. Her father was a lawyer and left-leaning political activist who was arrested after the 1964 coup, which empowered a military dictatorship that ruled for two decades. He introduced her to singers Sílvio Caldas and Elizeth Cardoso, and Ms. Carvalho studied guitar and music theory.

Inspired by singer and guitarist João Gilberto, she dipped into bossa nova with songs such as “Por Quem Morrer de Amor,” by Ronaldo Bôscoli and Roberto Menescal, and in 1968 placed third at the International Song Festival in Rio de Janeiro. Her performance of “Andança” drew national attention, and one year later she recorded the song as the title track of her first album.

Ms. Carvalho turned fully toward samba in 1971, when she released “Rio Grande do Sul na Festa do Preto Forró,” performed at Carnival by the samba school Unidos de São Carlos. She went on to sell hundreds of thousands of records in Brazil over the next decade, buoyed by hits such as “1800 Colinas,” “Olho Por Olho,” “Saco do Feijão” and “Vou Festejar.”

For the most part, she recorded the work of other songwriters, describing herself as a rescuer and discoverer of the young and the forgotten. Partly through her efforts, musicians and composers such as Nelson Cavaquinho, Guilherme de Brito, Luiz Carlos da Vila, Arlindo Cruz and Jorge Aragão are now well known across Brazil.

She also fostered the festive samba style known as pagode and rejuvenated the career of composer Angenor de Oliveira, known as Cartola, who was running a cafe when she began recording his songs. “Many people thought he had died,” Ms. Carvalho told the Associated Press in 1993. “Nowadays he is popular.”

Ms. Carvalho toured internationally and released live albums, including records made at the Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland and the Olympia concert hall in Paris. In 2012, she received a Latin Grammy Award for best samba/pagode album for “Nosso Samba Tá Na Rua.”

She married Edson de Souza Barbosa, a Brazilian soccer star, in 1979. He died in 2015. Survivors include their daughter, Luana Carvalho, a singer and songwriter.

Although all-female samba groups have reportedly become more popular in Brazil, Ms. Carvalho told the Times last year that samba was “still a circle of men,” despite her own efforts and those of singers including Clara Nunes, Dona Ivone Lara and Alcione Nazareth.

“I am sad to know that women still don’t feel comfortable sitting down in a samba circle,” she said. “This is terrible. I hope my contribution helped.”