By Dave Martin
In the course of clearing some of my personal items from Customs recently, and inevitably with some time to wait (as the Trinis say, “you know how that go padna”), I ended up in an interesting conversation with a soft-spoken but very intense young man from Amerijet who was despairing about our music industry and the lack of opportunity and progression for local performers, particularly in comparison to the vibrant music scene in Trinidad, Jamaica and Barbados. It is a comment I hear frequently from some of the people I know in the industry here, and I see it often referred to, as well, in various local media.
In the first place, in the close up view, it’s plain and simple economics. Shortage of disposable income is a fact of life in Guyana with the following effect on the music industry: possible entertainment venues for musicians and singers to perform are limited simply because the consumer has limited funds to pay for these things – there are few outlets for performers. Of course there are other societal factors involved, but the question of affordability weighs heavily on both what promoters can charge for special shows and what everyday venues – hotels; restaurants; nightclubs; etc – can pay performers, so opportunity is lacking. To put it simply, “we deh bad”.
But that’s the close up view. The wider view, and in fact the point of this column, is that the fundamental problem, as I explained to my Amerijet buddy, is that unlike Trinidad, Barbados and Jamaica, Guyana is lacking a cultural engine driving our music industry. It is a significant difference, and it is the core problem.
The Trinidad music industry is driven by Carnival; that is the engine. Songs are written for it, costumes designed for it, musicians rehearse for weeks to perform in it, and it doesn’t stop there because while carnival is five days in Trinidad, the external interest in it is year-round. The reality for the popular musician in Trinidad is that he/she is rarely home; they are performing around the world, in one carnival function or another, week after week, continuing to prosper from the engine of carnival and all it projects.
Although carrying a different name, the CropOver event in Barbados is premised the same way. That event, carrying some distinctive Bajan wrinkles, is essentially a carnival engine that drives their music industry taking it from the days when we used to make fun of Bajan calypsonians to the point where artists like Krosfyah, Square One, Allison Hinds, etc. are strutting the entertainment world big time.
In Jamaica, the engine was not an event per se (though promotions like Sunsplash had a hand in it) but a completely new music, reggae, trading on the eye-popping rasta imagery, and an evocative mix of message and riddim. A new thing; a unique image; almost a way of being; a powerful engine.
If you look throughout the region, you will see these engines all over the place: Dominica Creole Festival; St. Kitts Music Festival; Cayman Islands Pirates Week; St. Maarten Carnival; and so on.
Permit me a digression here to make a couple of pertinent points: Understand that a factor in all this is the push to get the engine rolling. In the 1970s, the government of Jamaica, for example, put substantial money into sending bands overseas, as tourism promoters, to light a fire under this new music going back to the time when it was ska and blue beat. They came to Toronto; I saw them. In the late 1970s, Barbados took CropOver by the scruff of its neck (and it was scruffy early) and put in excess of a million US dollars a year into it, and, up to today, provides stadiums and p.a. systems and personnel to run CropOver events. Trinidad carnival is largely a private sector game, but government spends lavishly to promote the event abroad and to develop and structure the event at home.
So, yes, government support for the cultural engine is critical, but that is second innings: first innings is that you have to have that dynamic cultural engine as your base, and that’s what we lack. I hear you mentioning Mashramani, and that may be a possibility but there are some problems there. In the first place, Mash is too close to Trinindad carnival. (Notice that CropOver is in August; Antigua carnival is June; St Vincent in May; Virgin Islands in January, etc.). Also, except for the early years, Mash has not totally captivated Guyanese, and the presentation has been spasmodic at times.
There are definitely possibilities there, however; perhaps an evolution into something better organized and with more artistic variety – akin to a Guyfesta. (Mashramani is “coming together”, so you can comfortably include any arts form in it.)
Understand there will be individuals like those we see now striking out on their own and creating a successful music presence outside – Jumo, Timeka, etc. – but the music industry here, the local scene, will continue to struggle without that singular event, generated at home, by the folks at home, for the folks at home. And, in the consideration of the draw that we are lacking, that’s an important point: the formula for every successful tourism event in the world is indigenous people creating an indigenous event, for themselves, which then becomes interesting to outsiders. Tourists were not on the minds of the Brazilians when they began to create carnival; it was for themselves. Whether it’s the Rose Bowl Parade, Antigua Carnival, Mardi Gras, Oktoberfest, the Italian Tomato Festival, the Lethem Rodeo, you name it, the key is that it’s something the local culture created for itself – that is what sustains it and gives it its momentum – which then becomes appealing to others. The guy in Trinidad saving his money to pay for his carnival costume is not doing it for the visitor – he is doing it for himself. The engine is his.
Which leads to the final point: in the attempt to create an attraction or trigger of our own, we must look inward for our content. Guyana has all the ingredients to produce an outstanding cultural event of its own. It is clear as day. As we saw in the GT&T All in Wan show in 2006, there is a very impressive array of creative talent in this country that could be harnessed to make a world-class spectacular.
Apart from the latent soca, chutney and dancehall performers, we have drummers, dancers, singers, poets, painters, songwriters, musicians – you know the list as well as I – so that the performing or presentation elements are already here; what we need is a vehicle.
Perhaps a nucleus for that could be President Jagdeo’s suggestion of a two-week entertainment event to entertain overseas Guyanese coming for an August visit. That idea, which contains the germ of the cultural vehicle concept, could be analysed and dissected as a way to end up with the cultural engine we need – given our problems with airlift, what is the best time of year; weather should be a consideration; an attractive name for the event and external promotion are essential, as are a high standard of production facilities and logistics coordination; government and corporate support is another key.
It’s properly the subject of a separate column, but if you’re dubious, let me also assure you that this is not just culture chat: there is money in this thing – that aspect always makes even the dubious sit up and take notice.
In closing, let me assure you that the creative community in this country would leap to such a thrust. There are so many talented and dedicated people in this country waiting, literally waiting, “tappin’ dey foot” as we say over the river, for such a gate to be opened. We have the talented people, they are all around us, ready to go, but without outlets they will continue to stand around on the parapet, wasting their abilities and wasting our potential. The music industry here will remain in the doldrums until we come up with our own cultural event engine. Okay, you can’t start it overnight – it’s not like an outboard motor where you pull a cord and you’re off – and it will be a difficult and costly process, but we have to engage the gears. If we don’t, five years from now, or ten years, the young musician at Amerijet will be as frustrated as he is today.
