The revolution underway

There are perhaps too many people who are not paying attention to the abundance of art and music and literature being produced at a time when narratives of hopelessness ritualistically enter the public discourse as a dominant national condition.

Yes, admittedly, notions of hope and success aren’t always “neutral” in scope and definition. So, there are indeed those who recognise advantage in the face of adversity, if only to assert superior command of possible solutions.

But this habit is routinely reversed when roles change - exposing pervasive preference for cynical abuse of the human traits that accompany uncertainty and fear.

This is neither new nor is it unique to our circumstances. So, do not reduce this to a mere reflection on the current state of affairs in T&T. Art as crucible of adversity is of longstanding vintage.

There has been, for example, the reformative impact of controversial art. Michelangelo’s “The Last Judgement” – now, at the time of the Paris Olympics, elevated to divine status by the ignorant and hypnotised – was decried in the mid-16^th century as sacrilegious depiction of what some consider to have itself been a work of literary fiction.

Back home, Jackie Hinkson’s Carnival murals have, since 2021, been among the most revolutionary commentaries on the state of national consciousness. I have described the work of this master as being among our finest works of artistic journalism. This year’s exhibition along Fisher Avenue in St Ann’s exposed both glorious and inconvenient truths about ourselves.

This is art as both historical record and commentary on current realities. Ditto the music of our times (including so-called “Trinibad”) – capturing the rawness of our realities, even as calypso (which once played such a role, prompting calls for bans and censorship) gradually withdraws into a much more comfortable, genteel space.

Yet, defiance and revolutionary fervour is being captured under far less spectacular banners. For instance, I spent some time two weekends ago, witnessing readings by two authors with child audiences in mind, and meeting a book dealer from Chaguanas, “Scribble and Quills” reporting solid sales (no, no school texts).

Even as I took two publications home, I knew that my long reading list would suffer further delays. Inspired by Ernest Hemingway’s recommendation as a supreme source of literary inspiration I have had E.E. Cummings’ “The Enormous Room” partly read on my kindle for weeks now.

On the physical shelf are Vaneisa Baksh’s “Son of Grace”, Valerie Laurent’s “mystory – My Yesterdays in Ordinary Time”, and the Jamaica Gleaner’s fantastic “Best of Jamaica” souvenir book on some of the people and institutions that have shaped the country’s modern history.

Yet here I am with 8-year-old Amayah Wallace-Anienonah’s “Quest for the Golden Diamond” and Nicole and Faith-Josephine’s “Canboulay – A Look into Trini Traditional Carnival Characters” (written with developmentally-challenged children in mind) in my hands.

Vaneisa, Val, Cummings, Hemingway, and the Gleaner will therefore have to wait. Here, in fact, are acts of supreme defiance – in contravention of the call to cower in a quiet corner.

Because, in this open revolutionary space are also to be found Mark Loquan “A Better Tomorrow” video series on pan, Pomegranate Studios’ documentary film on the life and music of Mungal Patasar, and any number of other productions being churned out by busy creative folk.

There is also the advent of what my son, Mikhail, has identified as “the autonomy of youth” via social media which offers egalitarian access in a way traditional platforms could not afford.

Here is a generation of unbridled content creators defying the traditional rules of official and mainstream control, waging war on past and present values that are designed to restrain rather than to liberate. Enter Kyle Boss et al.

Then, this evening, there is the Ensemble and Orchestra category of “Steelpan is More Beautiful” at Naparima Bowl. This will be followed on Friday by the World Steelpan Conference which is among the highlights of Steelpan Month.

None of this is meant to say that claims of hopelessness aren’t rooted in several realities generating deep concern, but that art, music, and literature are playing important roles in establishing context and meaning, serving as cathartic tools, providing weapons of resistance, and acting as bridges for the building of resilience and solidarity.

There is a revolution underway in defiance of advancing feelings of hopelessness and despair. Its soldiers are proceeding with eyes wide open to all realities. The change some portend in common narratives of the day will pale in comparison to what is in the offing.