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-16th 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.
